Category: research

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!

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  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. ↩︎

Stand Back

Tuesday and back to the office with me this morning. I have tomorrow off to attend a memorial service for a friend, and then one more day back in the office before work-at-home Friday again. It feels weird to be up early this morning again, and my body is not really sure how to take it. I slept well–my blanket nest was very comfortable all night–and I didn’t want to get out from underneath it. But my coffee is tasting good, I am waking up, and my body doesn’t feel tired. My Achilles tendons are still a bit sore and tight, but that is nothing new and shouldn’t hold me back for the day. I do have an errand to run after work, but that’s not a big deal and it’s on the way home. I don’t know if we’re busy today in the clinic or not, but there’s naught to worry about until I am there and working.

Yesterday wound up not being terribly productive over all, and I am a bit battered this morning. You know how I always say I want to not be such a creature of habit and get out of the ruts I find myself in all the time? I’ve always found comfort in routine, in doing things the same way over again as a coping mechanism for anxiety and stress, so yesterday I decided to do things differently. Rather than making groceries in the morning I waited until the afternoon; I drove Paul to his office; and I made groceries and came home a different way–and had an accident. I wasn’t at fault or anything, but I was taking Baronne through the CBD and rather than turning on Howard to head up to St. Charles, I decided to go up to MLK and head down to Prytania. After I passed under the highway, I noted there was a city construction truck of some sort in the left lane just past Clio, but as I approached the intersection there I saw a car coming down Clio and into the intersection–turning right–who didn’t see me. In that split second I weighed all options quickly and calmly–okay I am probably going to be hit by that car how can I minimize the impact? I couldn’t turn into the left lane because of the parked truck; if I slammed on the brakes I would broadside him right where he was sitting, turning right onto Clio wasn’t an option (also a one-way) so the only option left was to floor it and try to get by without hitting him. I almost made it, too. He tagged me a glancing blow on the back end of the passenger side, but because I had sped up it wasn’t that bad. Had I braked we would have both had to go to the hospital, and I of course immediately pulled over. The poor guy didn’t know that my car was already dented and dinged from being parked! So I didn’t understand why he was so worried about me and my car because he thought he’d done all that damage to my car. I took a look, found the little bit that was new–it was hardly even noticeable–but his radiator was damaged and all the fluid was draining out. It wasn’t until he asked about insurance–and I’d made sure he was okay–that I realized what he was thinking. “Dude, you didn’t do this”–wide sweeping gesture at the side of my car–“it was already like this, and I’m not going to file a claim and make you pay to fix this! I am not that person!” So, we shook hands, we both apologized, and called it a day. However, my adrenaline had spiked and I also was a bit in shock, so by the time I pulled up in front of the house the shock had cleared and so had the adrenaline, and I was exhausted. I collapsed into my chair with Sparky and tried to read, but couldn’t keep my mind clear or focused, so just started watching sports highlights and whatever videos caught my fancy on Youtube with my purring kitty in my lap. I do love how cats can sense something is wrong or off and try to make you feel better. I am a bit sore this morning, but that is to be expected.

I hadn’t planned on watching any of the championship game last night, but I put it on while I was waiting for Paul to get home so I could make dinner and…it was a good game! I wasn’t vested in who won–a friend is a big Miami fan, so if pressed, I’d root for them, but if anyone had told me at the beginning of the season that Indiana would be in the championship game, I would have laughed; likewise had someone told me the title game would be Miami-Indiana. I wound up going to bed before it was over–Indiana had the ball, there were only a few minutes left in the game, and they were ahead 24-21–and woke up to see Indiana won 27-21. The miracle at Indiana! Other programs have turned around from sad and tragic, but not like this! Before, I would have said the big turnarounds were Tulane, Vanderbilt, and Kansas State–but none of them have gone undefeated and won the national title, either. Is Indiana the new college football dynasty? We shall see.

I also filled four boxes with books to take to the library sale this Saturday. You can actually tell this time, too, that I pruned the books!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday that feels like Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

If Anyone Falls

And the holiday has arrived. I slept well last night, and didn’t want to get out from under the covers, which were so incredibly comfortable this morning. I can tell that it’s cold outside my windows as I sit swilling my coffee and chowing down on my coffee cake. I wore tights under my sweat pants all day yesterday and that was very cozy yesterday, too. I should probably run an errand this morning, but I am also thinking it can wait maybe until tomorrow? I don’t know if the groceries are open today–grocery employees should get holidays, too, you know–but it will not hurt me in the least to give it the old college try. Yesterday was a very nice day. I wasn’t tired or achy at all–I usually am good by Sundays of my weekend–and I did manage to get some things done. I worked on the books and made progress, filling up two boxes of donations to take to the library sale this coming Saturday, and there’s at least enough pulled out to fill another box today, too. I did some picking up and cleaning yesterday, and also worked on organizing computer files. I watched some documentaries on French history, caught up a bit on the news (always dreadful) and read for a while, which was a lovely start to getting back into reading again–and I am going to carve out some time this morning for reading, too. Huzzah!

The other day on social media–I don’t recall if it was Bluesky or Threads–but Saeed Jones had discovered the wonders of Maldon brand sea salt and was sharing that information–before moving on to fancy gourmet style butter. I had already discovered the magic of Kerrygold butter (someone talked about regarding tariffs earlier last year, so I got some and was completely sold on this bougie butter), but there were some other brands mentioned that I’d not heard of, so I’d been trying to locate Maldon salt here locally (Rouse’s claimed to have it, but I didn’t find it in either of the two stores I frequent) and some of those bougie butter brands; I was planning on making baked potatoes last night, so I thought why not make them completely bougie? I didn’t find any of the butter brands, but got some more Kerrygold (including a stick of garlic and herb butter!). And yes, the Maldon salt is amazing. I am completely sold on the bougie salt! Now I am thinking of getting some of that pink sea salt they have at Costco…who knew there was fancier salt and butter all this time? Regular salt and butter are, of course, perfectly fine; but yeah, the bougie stuff is pretty damned good. Thanks, Saeed! And they say no good can come from social media! I laugh in their face HA HA HA HA HA!

I also decided to rewatch my favorite episode of Heated Rivalry yesterday–Episode 3, “Hunter,” which is the almost self-contained romance of Scott Hunter and Kip the smoothie barista. This was the episode when I became truly vested in the show, and committed to it emotionally. It was so well written and acted, and their chemistry together was incredible, sweet and intense, and I was in tears by the end of the episode, just as I was when I originally watched it. It’s such an excellent episode, and it definitely left me wanting more when I finished. It was even better on the rewatch, and I caught things I didn’t the first time. (I had seen that people were rewatching the show, and while I certainly can’t commit to the time required to watch the whole thing again, I thought “hey, I can watch this episode again!”) SPOILER: I was absolutely delighted they wound up together after all, with Scott publicly kicking open the closet door. I do hope we see more of Kip and Scott in future seasons! I’ve loved Francois Arnaud in everything I’ve seen him in (The Borgias….sigh. He was so good as Cesare), and this new young actor playing Kip is gorgeous, charismatic, and may even have the best body on the show, which is saying alot.

I also spent a lot of time scribbling free form in my journal yesterday, something I’ve not done in quite a long time. It was nice to let my mind wander and let my hand scribble. I’ll have to look at it again today to see what was running through my mind yesterday while I idly watched my French history documentaries (mostly about Cardinal Richelieu, Louis XIII, and the Thirty Years’ War–I also watched a good one about James I and the Duke of Buckingham). Once we’d had dinner, we finished Seven Dials, which seems to have a different ending, among other things, than what I remembered–but I could very easily be wrong. I’ve always loved the character of Lady Eileen Brent, and maybe that’s why I remember the novel so fondly, but I know for sure I loved The Secret of Chimneys and have reread it numerous times during my Christie era. We then started season two of The Night Manager, which is a lot of fun, and Tom Hiddleston is certainly not a problem for one’s eyesight.

As I mentioned, I did spend some time with The Secret of Hangman’s Inn and the new Eli Cranor, Mississippi Blue 42. The Ken Holt series is one of the highest bars in juvenile mystery series, and probably the hardest boiled of them all. I can’t wait to write about Ken Holt again! Mississippi Blue 42 is set in the wild world of college football, with a pair of FBI agents investigating criminality (paying players). Eli is a terrific writer, his debut Don’t Know Tough was set in the world of high-pressure high school football, and I am way behind on his canon…and spending some time with this book is reminding me of how much I love his work.

And on that note, I should probably get going with my day. I am going to try to be productive, but at the same time I am not going to kill myself getting things done, either. So, have a great day while I head into the spice mines.

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I Will Run to You

Sunday morning, I am up early, and it’s 35 degrees here. No snow here that I am aware of, but some places along the Gulf Coast did get snow, like Gulf Shores, Alabama. This morning is the best I’ve felt in the morning this entire weekend, and I think after yesterday’s low-energy-didn’t-even-unload-the-dishwasher day, it’ll be nice to get things done this morning and have a nice day. I did run those errands yesterday, so I don’t have to leave the house today (tomorrow may be a different story); and it’s warm and cozy inside this morning, too, which is marvelous–can some time in my easy chair with a book and a blanket be in my future? Absolutely! I am also going to shave and get thoroughly cleaned up this morning, too. AMBITIOUS, right? Getting up early and feeling genuinely rested is a lovely feeling, I must say.

We finished Run Away last night, which was fun and interesting and went into an entirely different path than I expected from the beginning. We then moved on to the new Agatha Christie adaptation, Seven Dials, which is based on one of my favorite Agatha Christies, The Seven Dials Mystery. I’ve always been an odd Christie fan; I started reading her when I was about ten or eleven, and spent most of my teens reading the entire Christie canon. While I did enjoy her more famous and iconic novels, my favorites of hers have always been lesser-known, and are probably considered her weaker ones. My absolute favorite is Endless Night, followed by The Secret of Chimneys, Death Comes as the End, N or M?, and The Pale Horse, among others. I really liked the character of Bundle (Lady Eileen Brent), and she is quite fun in this adaptation as well. We watched the first two episodes last night, and there is one more to go today. I suppose we’ll watch Stranger Things next, as completists, but there’s a lot of good shows to watch at the current moment, a tough problem to have.

As I mentioned, yesterday wound up being a low energy day. I didn’t run all the errands I needed to, cutting some things out because I was tired and didn’t want to push my luck. I did make groceries at Rouses and the Fresh Market, but after bringing everything in I was pretty wiped for the rest of the day, and my brain couldn’t really focus enough to read, so it was back to documentaries for me in the afternoon while Sparky napped in my lap. I did clean up and organize some computer files–an endless task indeed–which I will probably do more of today. The apartment isn’t neat and orderly, but it’s getting there. Today may also be a “prune the books” kind of day, too. I definitely need to empty the dishwasher and take the recycling out, for sure, and get the rugs back in order. It’s weird to have tomorrow of as well, but…there are worse things. I took Wednesday off for a funeral, too, so this is going to be a very strange week for me. Normality will return next week, but then it’s Carnival.

Sigh.

I’m really getting used to–and spoiled–by all this time off from work.

Despite the temperature, it’s beautiful and sunny outside today, with a blue sky and no clouds to be seen anywhere. I just saw that it also snowed in Pensacola, which is wild…Pensacola being about two hours or so from New Orleans east on I-10. Snow below I-10 is kind of crazy; I always joke that I moved south of I-10 specifically to avoid cold weather. I definitely need to write a Scotty set during the blizzard last year…I’ve decided to jump ahead with the series rather than trying to keep the books in a continuous timeframe, realizing at the way things are going in a couple of years the books would be considered historical fiction if I kept on the way I was, so I am going to skip ahead and recap in the intro to the next one. I can also go back and write more that are out of order, if need be; other series have done that, too.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and read for a bit. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Hitch a Ride

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and here we go, launching into a three day weekend. I was still a little drained yesterday when I finished work yesterday, so I ordered groceries and worked on chores and ignored the Internet. It’s lovely to disconnect once in a while to let my brain heal in order to face another day–and social media is becoming less and less fun (when was the last time it was truly fun?) and more emotionally disturbing. It’s also rarely helpful in dealing with any of the shit going on right now, either. I ordered groceries and just kind of rested while doing chores. There was a shit-ton of laundry to do, and dishes and…and…sigh. As I said yesterday, Sisyphean tasks indeed. indeed. But Paul brought dinner home–Chinese; I love me some shrimp lo-mein1–and we watched the LSU-Georgia gymnastics meet when he got home from his day before moving on to an episode of Run Away, which has definitely taken some turns on its journey to episode six. We’ll undoubtedly finish it today, with only two episodes left to go. I went to bed relatively early and slept very late this morning, which goes to show how tired and run down I was feeling. I’m a little worn still today, but I have lots of things to get done over the course of the weekend. I had planned to run a bunch of errands today and get them out of the way, so I wouldn’t have to do anything outside the apartment for the rest of the weekend, but when I woke up I wasn’t so sure if I would run them or not….but as the coffee and coffee cake kick into gear again for me, I might just be able to do that.

I’ve really started enjoying writing the newsletter, but it takes longer to write those entries than it does the blog, you know? I shoot this off every morning when I am drinking my coffee and waking up every morning, in less than an hour and think about my previous day and what I want to get done that particular day, what I watched and read and am looking forward to enjoying while putting all my “reviews” (books, movies, television shows that I want to get more in depth about) in the newsletter….as well as writing about my own past and the books and movies and things that inspired me, shaped me, and influenced me into who I am as a person and as a writer, which is very fun. I am in the midst of one about my lifelong interest in ancient Egypt and trying to remember where that interest originally sprang from. I’ve watched some interesting documentaries about ancient Egypt recently; ones about the three Golden Ages of ancient Egypt as well as one about the Ptolemaic dynasty, who have also always interested me (Cleopatra VII, the one we all know, was the last Ptolemy).

I also started writing some newsletters about Scotty and the upcoming release of Hurricane Season Hustle (available for pre-order; drops on February 10). The story behind the book might prove interesting to others beside me; on the other hand maybe not, but it’s also a kind of interesting example of how some book ideas can take shape and form even when it takes two decades. This was originally supposed to be Scotty IV, but things changed and now it finally is Scotty X, which is wild; how are there ten books in this series that started out as a stand alone?

I have to go to Office Max to buy envelopes so I can send out copies of the new book to the people I always gift them to; the mail; a prescription; and two different grocery stores. Heavy heaving sigh. That is probably going to wear me out for today, but if that’s the case, I’ll just clean and read and watch documentaries. I think Paul is going to be at the office this afternoon, or upstairs working, so I should be able to get all this stuff finished before I settle in for the day to read. I think I’ll dive back into The Secret of Hangman’s Inn today, and bust back into the Eli Cranor tomorrow. Pretty cool, methinks.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely holiday Saturday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

  1. Which is probably not even Chinese but American Chinese… ↩︎

Smokin’

Pay the Bills Wednesday has somehow rolled around again, and yes, there are bills to pay and errands to run and all of that fun stuff for me after work this evening. It was cold again yesterday, but this time I was smarter and wore layers. I don’t think it was as cold in the office yesterday as it was Monday…but again, that could have simply been layers. It’s also not as cold this morning as it has been, and I am wondering if I should do the layer thing again today anyway; the office has been horrifically cold this week for some reason. A quick check of the weather app on ye olde phone and no, it isn’t going to be in the forties. I slept well last night, so I feel very rested and awake this morning–a pleasant surprise, actually. I came straight home from work yesterday, and of course, had to play with and cuddle with Sparky, as he won’t be denied. I got caught up on the horrible news before watching another episode of Run Away, a particularly twisty show we are enjoying, despite the annoying male main character’s toxicity, and then it was off to bed for me.

I also managed to get my latest newsletter (which you can read by clicking here if you so desire: America America), which is about my passion for US History and watching the Ken Burns documentary, The American Revolution, which I watched last month and enjoyed. I also found it timely–it reminded me and its viewers of the noble principles of freedom and liberty from oppressive government with which this country was founded–in spite of its legacy of enslavement and genocide, we’ve never really achieved the democratic utopia the founders envisioned (because of the enslavement and genocide)–and whatever this is that we’re living through is about as far from that utopian (for white men) ideal as we ever have been. The so-called “melting pot” theory of the United States has always been kind of bullshit, hasn’t it? The nation of immigrants that slams the door shut on immigration? Just horrific.

Scott Adams, the sad tragic piece of shit who blew up his successful career in comic strips by being very publicly an asshole and turning off the majority of his readers, died this week from prostate cancer. However, as a true MAGA believer he of course distrusted medicine and used quack medicine from quacks to treat it, only for it to not work and to start proper treatment too late: a suicide by stupidity, if you will. The only reason I mention this is his death triggered a post on social media by Kevin M. Kruse, noted US historian, reminding us all of Bill Amend and Foxtrot, a strip I used to absolutely love but had forgotten about, so I subscribed to get his weekly Sunday strip. Huzzah! (Adams, a bottom-feeding scavenging scum piece of shit, also converted–in theory, anyway–to Christianity to save himself from the flames of hell…which is the thing about Christianity that is so bogus to me. You can live your life as the most hateful asshole on the planet, convert on your deathbed and still go to heaven? While someone else, who spends their entire life doing for others and helping people, will go to hell because they didn’t convert? Fuck that shit.)

Which again begs the question: which Christian franchise is the real one? Sigh.

But over all, it’s been a pretty good week overall, as we head into yet another three day weekend.

Erich von Daniken also died recently, which was kind of weird; I was surprised he had only just now passed, to be honest. I have been outlining an essay around the subject of weird takes and lore, beginning with Chariots of the Gods and going on to the Bermuda Triangle and numerous other strange books about strange theories or occurrences that I read a lot about when I was growing up and how those weird books–many of which I didn’t really buy into because of the poor scholarship and lack of actual evidence. But they were interesting ideas and theories that triggered my imagination and anything that does that is worth reading.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll be back tomorrow!

Something About You

‘Tis Tuesday morning and all is well; at least so far, at any rate. It was very cold at the office yesterday, which didn’t make a lot of sense. The temperature did drop overnight Saturday, as I may have mentioned yesterday, but man, it was so cold in the office yesterday it made me sleepy and my knee joints ache–which is a new ache, I might add. I was also experiencing some pain from my left Achilles tendon yesterday, that I noticed particularly as I pushed the cart around the grocery store last night. I did make good on my plan to stop and make a little groceries last night on the way home, but was very tired from the cold and once I was home, collapsed into my chair with Sparky. The apartment was very warm and comfortable when I got home, but I also realized yesterday that I didn’t dress appropriately for the cold, either. It’s 39 right now outside, so yes–layers and a jacket for the day (and a sweater and a T-shirt). Did I mention that it was insanely cold in the office yesterday? Feel free to mock me, people from the frozen tundra up north, as y’all are wont to do. I don’t care.

I also decided yesterday that one thing I definitely need to do this year is get the ebook of Jackson Square Jazz put up at long last. I just need to revise and copy edit it, and I may even do a bit more polishing on it than was originally done. I don’t know why I was so determined that the ebook be exactly like the (long) out of print hard copies, but there you have it, you know? My insistence that it be exactly the same and not changed or revisited at all was came from the obsessive part of my brain and now that I’m medicated, that’s no longer a thing. There’s no point in setting a personal deadline, because I always blow those in any case (kind of like the publisher ones), but I can add it to the long list of things to do (I still need to update my to-do list, don’t I?) and can at least try to get it done by spring. I do have a three-day weekend coming up this weekend, too….and no Costco trip, either, so that won’t wear me out. Huzzah? I guess the national championship in football game is this week, too? That should tell you something–that I don’t even know when the game is being played. Anyway, I need to reread the book first at any rate, and since my mind seems unable to focus enough to read something, anything, else…maybe this will kick-start my brain back into reading some more.

You know what straight women who consume queer content but try to exclude queer people from said content are? Homophobes. I saw over the weekend a horrible post in which a gay man in Utah went to an advertised watch-party for Heated Rivalry, and long story short, the straight women kicked him out because “he made them uncomfortable.” Seriously? I’ve seen a lot of this sort of “gatekeeping” on this show, but also on gay romance. Almost twenty years ago, I was attacked and lied on and smeared and slandered because I dared to say that there was clearly homophobia in the “m/m community”–which there was, always has been, and there still is obviously1; and I certainly do not need any cisgender straight woman to tell me what is and isn’t homophobic, thank you very much. If you’re MAGA and read/write gay romance, you probably shouldn’t be–because you aren’t allies, you don’t care about us or our rights, and how fucking dare you appropriate our lives and stories (and spaces) to make money? I have always said anyone can write anything they want whenever they want; I am not in the habit of telling any artist how to express themselves creatively. It isn’t a matter of can you, but more a should you. No one has a right to be published–and no one has a right to book sales and an audience, either. I don’t want anyone telling me what I can and can’t write; and I am not going to tell anyone else what they should write or read or watch or anything like that.

And as the watch-party story spread across social media, one of the terrific things I’ve seen is actual straight women allies calling that behavior out as exclusionary and homophobic, which is a lovely change from the way they all used to pile on anyone with the mildest question or concern about said writings and writers, particularly those who thought making jokes about queer identity when not being actually queer wasn’t homophobic.2

And for the record, I know any number of straight women who write excellent fiction about gay men.

It really is amazing how Heated Rivalry is driving so much discourse, isn’t it? I’ve also taken to occasionally watching reaction videos of straight guys watching and loving the show; my favorite are the Empty Netters, who’ve gone kind of viral. It is really, really nice seeing straight guys getting vested in the show–they tuned in for the hockey but got caught up in the story. I tend to think those men probably weren’t actively homophobic, or really were, deep down; I’m sure they’ve made gay jokes and used gay slurs to be funny with other straight men. But being open to watching a gay romance show, getting vested in it, and spreading the word about the show to get more viewers? That’s awesome, and the sort of thing we need more of in the future, despite the country burning to the ground.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines.

I’m very pleased with how this picture, from the Iris parade a few years back, turned out.
  1. The attacks on me were incredibly homophobic–and I will never forgive nor forget those bitches. ↩︎
  2. I also loved how some of them were horrified at how queer fiction is marginalized in the industry. I mean, duh. ↩︎

If We Make It Through December

Sunday, as we slowly transition from Yule season into Carnival, and I have to go back to the office tomorrow. Paul is coming home sometime today–I can’t find his flight schedule, but he usually comes back late in the evening; I may even go to bed before he gets home. Some greeting, right? But I have to get up at six tomorrow morning, he knows that, so I won’t worry about that now. I’ll see him after work when I get home from the office. I didn’t do a whole lot yesterday; I did some chores and ran a couple of errands (it was gorgeous yesterday) and when I got home, wasn’t terribly motivated to do much of anything. I did keep doing some cleaning and organizing and filing at various intervals throughout the day, but there’s still a lot to get done this morning/today. I feel more awake and alive this morning than I did yesterday; perhaps the drinks on Friday night and the walking did wear me out a little bit, even though I wasn’t expressly fatigued. My batteries were a little low, is all. I also have to be careful not to overdo anything because I feel better, you know? I also partly blame it on Sparky, who wanted to sleep in my lap all day, the sweet boy.

I also need to make a new to-do list.

It was surreal yesterday to check in and do my morning blog post and then check the news to see that “Donald the dove” (right, Maureen Dowd? How do you show your face in public, you tragically evil and clearly shameless hateful piece of shit?) had started a war all by himself! And people want to forgive his voters for being conned? No thank you–I’ll carry those grudges to the fucking grave. I am completely incapable of feeling empathy (and I am very empathetic) for the people who joyfully and gladly voted for every last bit of this agenda. Oh no, miss me with your “I didn’t vote for this.” Yes, you fucking did, and you mocked everyone who tried warning you before hand. Where are all those people who told me I was overreacting in 2016? In 2024? You deserve to be reminded of your gleeful ignorance and hateful disrespect every fucking day for the rest of your fucking lives. I sure as fuck didn’t vote for any of this bullshit, yet have to deal with it because YOU wanted to “own the libs.”

NO ONE IS LAUGHING NOW. HAPPY? No? Ever heard the phrase “you reap what you sow”? Well, now you’re reaping what you sowed and you don’t seem very happy with it. Live with the shame and utter humiliation of your public ignorance and stupidity, and you get no sympathy or pity from me–and there will certainly be no forgiveness ever coming from me.

Hope you kept your diapers, ear tampons, and golden shoes! Hillary was only wrong in underestimating how many of you were deplorable pieces of shit. Although, there is something almost comically ironic about the fall of the United States’ experiment in democracy coming from the small hands of an uneducated bigoted pedophile rapist. Well done, white people, well done.

And yet I still have high hopes that this will, all evidence to the contrary, be a good year. I feel weird about that, to be honest; how can I feel positive about the future in the face of all evidence to the contrary? It feels weird to be feeling good about myself and my life, making plans (tentative, as so much is out of my control) and just in general being happy and pleased with myself? I think I have one more year to stay away from conferences and so forth, to continue working on myself and my work and shaping up everything in the directions I want to take, before I return again to the wild world of mystery conferences. I think Bouchercon is in DC for 2027, and so I will probably go to that.

I did watch a lot of videos on Youtube yesterday–some historical stuff (the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt; Cleopatra’s sister1; the Valois dynasty of France), some interviews and reviews of Heated Rivalry, and sports “commentators” on the collapse of Alabama in the play-offs, or the SEC “not being what it was.” I also don’t–and have never–understood the mentality of “my conference is better than yours” arguments; they are pointless beyond any metric beyond winning the championships. The Big Ten has won two in a row, and could be winning a third in a row this year, with three different schools. That’s impressive, indeed. Of course, the SEC did that from 2007-2010 with four different schools…but that’s also the past. One of the biggest problems I have always seen with college football is the polls–because being a brand name is the most important thing with the polls. Ohio State was number one for how long, and how long was Indiana ranked behind them, only for Indiana to beat them? Indiana isn’t a brand like Ohio State or Alabama–although that may be changing now. Preseason polls are meaningless now, just like any polls before the playoff rankings and any bowl game that isn’t a part of the playoffs–which is why you cannot look at bowl results as a metric of conference strength. Many players opt out of the bowl games now because they are meaningless, so bowl teams are often not the same team from the season. Toxic fandom is just another phase of toxic masculinity–and women can be as bad, if not worse, than men.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich and see what all is going on in the world today, before I get back to work on cleaning.

  1. Arsinoë IV has always been of interest to me, as was Cleopatra’s older sister Berenice. ↩︎