Category: research

Look What You Made Me Do

And we made it to Thursday, our last day in the office for the week and we survived! Huzzah!

We had a marvelous rain last night, a steady downpour that no doubt flooded neighborhoods and streets and ruined any number of cars. There was thunder, too, and it made an already tired Gregalicious even sleepier, so much so that rather than doing chores before bed, I just went to bed and slept. I slept great as long as the storm lasted, but once it was over I was restless and tossing and turning. Sigh. We’re also busy in clinic today, so I sense another evening of exhaustion. I made groceries on the way home yesterday, and was thus very tired when I got home. I made a pizza for dinner, and then Paul and I watched Sirens (didn’t care for it so stopped watching) and then moved on to the final season of Big Mouth, which is so wrong but so damned fucking funny; it’s about kids going through puberty and is hilarious. It’s animated, so that removes the ick factor it would have if it were live action. I also didn’t do chores last night, so tonight I’ll have to push through the exhaustion and get the kitchen under control for Remote Friday. Yippee!

Ooh, just heard thunder and it’s overcast outside–that should help me stay awake all day, right? But I am going to enjoy the rain as long as I can, since next week the Saharan dust will be here drying everything out. And it’s pouring out there now–I’m going to actually have to take an umbrella with me to the car. YIKES–and trying to keep my feet dry will be a challenge.

My mind is still not capable of producing fiction when it’s tired, alas; I tried to work on the prologue for the new Scotty book (and am finding my cards for the tarot reading each chapter serves as) but it was painful and didn’t get anywhere. Oddly enough, my mind can focus on writing non-fiction (hence the flurry of newsletters over the holiday weekend) and reading it, too. I hope to finish Laura Lippman’s new book this weekend as well as Moonraker, which also means writing about them for the newsletter as well. I also have some other things I need to get done this weekend. I have some errands to run tomorrow after work (including, sigh, more bloodwork) and preparing a pitch for Chlorine. Wish me luck!

I also met with my case manager/nurse from the drug company that produces the medication I’ll be dealing with for the rest of my life. I am actually really impressed by this service (I also have one for the infusion center, one from the specialist, and one from the hospital, which is a lot to keep track of; I’m also going to have to take some time to figure this all out and know what’s going on and where I am going), but it’s also making me realize just how serious this condition actually is, which is kind of scary in some ways, but…what can you do? Buckle down, accept it, and go forward. I am getting stronger every day; I can climb the steps without stopping or needing to balance with the railing, which is a good thing. The grocery store is no longer exhausting, simply tiring, which I can also live with happily, and while my skin is still ashy, the moisturizing does help but I am still, I guess, a little on the dehydrated side.

And on that note, I am off to the spice mines and to make a to-do list for the weekend. Have a lovely Thursday, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Jedi Master Gregalicious

End Game

Ah, Monday of Memorial Day and all is well in the Lost Apartment. I finished cleaning up the kitchen yesterday, which was amazing to walk down into this morning, and I swear I will never allow it to get that bad ever again–do it every weekend, Gregalicious, and it will get easier as it goes. I am trying to keep up with my chores throughout the week rather than pushing them to the weekend–always a recipe for disaster–and if I can keep up, life will be better and I can get other, deeper cleaning that needs to be done taken care of.

Yesterday I started getting creative again. I got up early, around six–don’t ask me why, it’s apparently a thing for me now, which is great since that’s when I have to get up for work–and had breakfast, wrote my blog and a newsletter about Victoria’s death (which reminded me I’d never eulogized Felice Picano, so I started working on that), and then read The Get Off for a while (it’s so excellent) and also more of Moonraker. I worked on the kitchen and get it taken care of–just some minor touches for my workspace tomorrow, and then I can slowly get the living room into order as well. I gathered everything I need to have handy when working on the Scotty book (the older volumes with post-its stuck throughout the pages, and yes, they are color-coded; the notebook with everything written thus far in its most recent draft; the cast list; and my thick folder of notes and research, most of which won’t be used); I should have done this months ago. I started writing the prologue, with a very short homage to Valley of the Dolls, and even started putting the tarot reading together. Not bad for a rest day where I also got the kitchen floors under control and barbecued, don’t you think? After dinner, we watched Fountain of Youth on Apple–John Krasinski and Natalie Portman and a treasure hunt, which was just a little too silly to be enjoyable–and the season finale of The Last of Us. This morning, I have to do the dishes and run the dishwasher, and then start picking up the living room while I swill coffee and listen to Taylor Swift while also taking reading breaks. I also started reading something new for non-fiction, Old Man River: The Mississippi River in North American History by Paul Schneider, which I am already loving. As you can see, my creative ADHD is exploding off the charts again so I am going to need to start writing more than just the blog and the newsletter soon, else I’ll explode.

I’m also up before seven today, with a good night’s sleep behind me and facing the last day of this holiday weekend. I do have to make a little groceries today; so I am going to try to do some things around here before I head over there. Dishes and the living room, mostly, as well as some self-care and reading. I feel pretty good this morning, only slightly physically weak, and I actually made it all the way upstairs last night without having to stop and rest on the way up. I’m eating more and more every day–and trust me, after worrying about gaining weight for 2/3rds of my life, it’s nice to eat whatever I want whenever I want without fear or self-loathing about it.

And it’s a short work week, which will be nice. I don’t think we’re booked heavily in the clinic this week, but I am pretty much caught up on everything at the office so the week should be a fairly simple and easy one to ease back into the regular routine. I’ve gotten up early every day of this holiday weekend, so getting up early to go to work isn’t going to be an issue tomorrow morning. Huzzah!

And I’m enjoying my morning coffee again. I don’t drink nearly as much as I used to before the illness, because I get shaky and jittery, but at least it is tasting good to me again. Normality seems to be slowly returning to one Gregalicious, but it is slowly happening, and I am very relieved on that score. I am also feeling ambitious again, which hasn’t happened in a long time, and I feel pretty good about that as well.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Those books aren’t going to read themselves, nor are those dishes going to wash themselves (self-cleaning dishes would be amazing), and Sparky is acting like he wants my desk chair or my lap or both, so I may as well repair to the easy chair. Have a lovely Memorial Day, and remember to toast those we lost in service to our country.

You know, the suckers and losers.

What can I say? I was hungry!

You Keep Me Hangin’ On

Work at home Friday, and I am exhausted. It was, over all, a pretty good week for me at the office, as I got a lot done and eased back into seeing patients. I have to get caught up on my homework today, so that should be a good thing as long as I can stay focused. I feel rested this morning, which is also enormously helpful; but we’ll see how long that lasts, shall we? Sparky let me sleep a bit more this morning, which was lovely of him, and now I have a few hours to do things around here before I start working this morning. I am not going to overdo it this weekend–trust me on that score, number one on the list for the weekend is relaxation and reading (and it’s a three day weekend at that!) and doing some chores to get the house back under control.

Last night we got caught up on both The Last of Us and Hacks (what a fucking episode! Jean Smart clinched this year’s Emmy, methinks, again), and now we’re going to be looking for something new for the weekend; I’ve heard good things about Overcompensating, so we’ll probably check that out–and Alafair Burke’s TV show, The Better Sister, will be debuting soon. I loved the book–seriously, if you aren’t reading Alafair you need to make better choices in your reading life–and the cast is fantastic. Huzzah!

Yesterday I got an ARC of Laura Lippman’s new novel Murder Takes a Vacation, which has moved up on the TBR list, and a copy of Frank Perez’s Rainbow Fleur de Lis: Essays on Queer New Orleans History. Frank is fantastic and knowledgeable; I also recommend his history of Southern Decadence. People think I know New Orleans? I don’t know shit compared to Frank! Frank is a repository of knowledge about queer New Orleans; in fact, I should consult with him about my 1994 New Orleans book. (adds to list)

I also cleaned the Keurig last night, and yes, my coffee is tasting much better this morning. Whew. I was worried I’d lost my taste for coffee during the illness, which was obviously not the case. Of course the Keurig needed cleaning–it needed cleaning when I got sick, and then it sat there unused for four weeks, and then I didn’t clean it before trying to use it again. Dumb dumb dumb, but I am glad I can enjoy my coffee in the mornings again. Huzzah! I may even try to get some writing done this weekend–at least work on a couple of essays and maybe finish that short story I started.

I’m feeling better, can you tell, Constant Reader? I feel like today just might be a good day, if not the best one I’ve had in a long time.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines to read for a bit before I start work. Have a lovely Friday, and I will check in with you again later.

British Olympic diving team, 2024 Paris

It’s the Same Old Song

Monday morning and back to the office with me today. Huzzah? Why not? Yesterday was a low energy day, alas. I didn’t sleep as well Saturday night as I did on Friday, and I think all the shopping and running around depleted all of my batteries and I needed to have a down day to recharge. I also think I overdid it. I don’t feel so great this morning, but it’s my Admin day so I think I can push through and make it. At least there’s a three-day weekend looming on the horizon; and yes, I am going to spend most of it resting, reading, and relaxing. I always get impatient with recovery and try to speed it up, which isn’t very smart. And I’ll have everything delivered; no grocery shopping for me for a while. I am also seeing my doctor Wednesday morning, so I can get some tips on eating and rest and so forth.

I spent most of yesterday in my easy chair, getting caught up on Hacks and The Studio (we also started MurderBot, which is interesting), and I don’t really remember much of last evening–an indication of how tired I was–and I didn’t sleep that great last night, either. Ah, well, these are the challenges that make life interesting.

I had a great ZOOM meeting with my editor yesterday–the book has now been pushed back and will be out in January, sorry, Scotty fans, just a little longer to wait–but I feel a lot more confident that once I am through with this recovery thing I’ll be able to whip it into something I can be proud of and Scotty fans can enjoy. I think my next read–as I try to get my brain unclouded and able to read again–will be a Vicki Barr Stewardess1 kids’ mystery that I’ve not read yet–The Silver Ring Mystery. At least I can use this foggy brain situation to my advantage and get those newsletters about kids’ mysteries done. I may even reread some old Gothics, too–my Kindle is filled with Phyllis A. Whitney and Mary Stewart classics–not to mention all kinds of other things I could reread. There’s also some great history books in there that I can dig into as well. I just never really think about reading on my iPad.

The house is also a mess; I was too tired to do the dishes last night after I made dinner and so left them, hoping I might get to them this morning. But alas and alack, I was much too tired to do so once I was up and so left them for tonight. It doesn’t take much to fill up both sinks, you know, which inevitably makes the kitchen look terrible. I also need to do the floors and the windows, get the filing done, and clean up my workspace. Slowly, slowly, slowly, of course, while taking breaks and resting so I do not wear myself out completely again. I have to swing Uptown to get the mail on the way home tonight–my box grater should be delivered today–and at some point, yes, I need to reorganize the pantry and the cabinets. I’m just going to make a to-do list without a date on it and see how that all goes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Monday, and I’ll check in with you again later or tomorrow.

  1. Don’t @ me, that is what the series is called. ↩︎

Stoned Love

Sunday and here we go. Yesterday was a decent day, even if I did wear myself out. I couldn’t find my wallet Thursday, and couldn’t find it anywhere. So, as much as I wanted to put off dealing with until Monday, I got a wild hair of responsibility and took care of things. I canceled my credit and debit cards, then Paul and I drove out to ABC Title in Metairie for me to replace my real ID (and get him one). We picked up the mail (and the chopping/slicing/dicing device I’d ordered arrived), we went to the grocery store since I had no way of paying for them, and then came home. As Paul lugged the groceries in because I was exhausted, he checked our mailbox…

And my wallet was in there. (Thank you, whoever found it and put it there.)

I’d checked just to be safe on the way out to do everything, and it wasn’t there.I am glad it was returned, but man! If only a few hours earlier a lot of hassle for me wouldn’t have been necessary. And I have to wait for my credit and debit card replacements to arrive in the mail over the next two weeks. Ah, there are worse things, and at least they didn’t take the (now invalid) cards, you know? I even ordered a new wallet on line, which is fine. The old one has been pretty beaten up and trashed over the years.

Oh, and the new Real ID? With my weight loss, it is easily the worst state picture for an ID I have ever taken.

My brain was scrambled and tired when we got back, so I kind of didn’t do as much as I could have yesterday. I did some cleaning and straightening, but I also rewatched Aladdin, and finished reading that abominable Dana Girls mystery, Mystery at the Crossroads, which will be featured in my newsletter soon. My mind and creativity are trying to make a comeback–I did take some notes down for an essay I am writing, trying to get my thoughts better organized and even had a breakthrough on how to open it. But my energy reserves are so low, it’s hard for me to even think about doing anything once I get the necessary things done every day (like going to work; I’ll be seeing clients this week–we’ll see how that goes as my job duties start picking up again).

I slept decently last night–I also fell asleep in my chair again last night and Paul woke me up to go to bed–so I am hoping today will be a good day. I did manage to get some things done around here yesterday (progress is progress, however slow it may be) and I do have a ZOOM call with my editor this morning at eleven, so I’m hoping to get some things done this morning since I am up so early. Coffee is starting to taste better, but I need to clean the Keurig out since it sat unused for so long. That probably has something to do with the coffee taste, you know?

I hope this is going to be a good week. I have to take it one day at a time, of course–some days are better than others, and I need to pace myself and take things easier and not try not to be Energizer Bunny Greg and wear myself out, you know? The kitchen still needs work–as does the filing–and maybe I’ll try to get some writing done today, if my brain doesn’t end up scrambling on me.

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

The view from the Vieux Carré Room in the Hotel Monteleone

When I Grow Up (To Be a Man)

Thursday! Wasn’t sure I’d make it this far this week, but here I am, wide awake and sipping coffee–the taste for it is coming back; I was rather jittery yesterday morning but am glad the taste is coming back because I’ve really missed my morning coffee. I am also getting stronger every day, which is nice. I walk around the office every hour or so, just to get my legs back under me. Eventually I hope to start walking in the neighborhood, and maybe someday I can get back to the gym to tighten everything back up again–everything just sags now. I was always afraid that I was destined, like all the men in my family, for Southern redneck body; where you look like a potato on tooth picks and have to wear suspenders instead of belts. I was never terribly worried about that outcome, as I have always had big legs and a big ass. NOT ANYMORE. My legs are all scrawny, and my ass is gone. Sigh.

Good thing I’m too old to be vain anymore, right?

I thought we’d finished Andor the other night, but was very delighted that the final three episodes dropped yesterday, so we got to finish it last night. Huzzah! (And yes, there will be more about that at some point.) I loved it–even more than The Mandalorian, which was a very high bar to clear. I think we may rewatch Rogue One tonight–which, outside of the original, is probably my favorite Star Wars movie.

I made a colossal mistake on social media the other day, but I thought it was something that bore making a comment. I read three or four consecutive threads by different “Christians” analyzing and trying to explain why people are atheists, which was kind of amusing because it isn’t that deep: most atheists believe in nothing. You’re born, you live, you die, and that’s it. It’s not about hating God or Jesus or authority. Sure, there are atheists who hate religion…but not the religion itself, but the organized version. So, I just posted It amuses me seeing Christians tie themselves up in knots trying to understand atheists. Why do you care? So, of course, “Christians” came at me with torches and pitchforks, almost every one of them assuming I am an atheist, which isn’t correct. The best description for me is something like agnostic; because I am not arrogant enough to think I know all the answers or what is true or not. It’s not for me to know, right? That’s what always bugs me about the cosplay Christians: the arrogance in their faith and lack of humility–which is kind of what your Lord and Savior was all about? Only two–two!–gave me an actual Christian response: we are taught to worry and try to save lost souls. Everyone else failed. SHOCK, I know. My own relationship with religion is complicated–I was groomed into Christianity since I was a baby by family and society, so I never had a choice until I was older: my ass was parked in a pew twice on Sundays and once on Wednesdays after we moved to the suburbs. I have, as I said, complicated feelings about religion, and I’ve been working on an essay about that very thing for a number of years now, so I may just get back to work on it for my newsletter, which has been dormant since I got sick. (UPDATE: Every day I feel better, but I am still a little on the fatigued side.)

I also realized that I am actually taking a steroid, which has made me a little more on edge than I’ve been since I started taking the anxiety medication. I got really angry in the car on the way home last night, and I was puzzling about it until I remembered, idiot, of course you’re feeling aggressive, you’re taking a steroid, dumbass. I also took some Vitamin b-12 this morning, so I am feeling very good. I still have a bit of a fatigue, but I feel so much better. I also started, of all things, moisturizing. I’ve always had pretty decent skin, but this illness has made it very dry and flaky. I commented on this when I saw my specialist last Monday, and he told me (he’s an older white man, but probably younger than me) that I was “ashy and needed to moisturize”–which took me aback, that he knew what “ashy” meant; I assumed he got it from The Real Housewives of Atlanta–so I asked some of the Black ladies I work with for recommendations (EOS lotion, and original Dove moisturizing soap) and I can’t believe what a difference it has already made! I told Paul I was going to have to come up with a beauty regimen since I’m older and can’t just coast on good skin anymore.

As you can see by the length of this, I am slowly getting better by the day. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader!

The Pharaoh Akhenaten the Heretic, from the Egyptian Museum

American Pie

…drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.

Which also doesn’t make sense; levees are neither wet nor dry, simply an earthen man-made wall to keep water in or out. I do wish I had a twenty, though, for every class where we had to dissect the meaning of “American Pie.”

I feel good today, and alert, and like I can get things done today. I wasn’t tired physically yesterday, but there was some mental fatigue so I didn’t get much writing done. It was literally like banging my head into a brick wall, but I did get almost a thousand words done. We also finished watching The White Lotus, which was good and interesting and all, but was it great? I don’t know, but the acting was on fire, which was terrific. We then spent the rest of the evening watching news clips of the world burning to the ground (my favorite are the tears of the MAGA grifters losing money now; sucks to be you, live by the MAGA die by the MAGA), and ironically, I started thinking about the book and the closed door in my brain that had been constraining and holding back everything I was trying to do with this book suddenly burst open in my head and I know exactly what to do with this book going forward. Huzzah! Now to get the words down…

As you may well also remember, I am researching the 1970s (mostly the early to mid) for my next book, and yesterday I went down the wormhole of short-shorts for men. The 1970s wasn’t maybe the best time for men’s fashions, but for the first time in a long time men’s clothes became more showy, and everything was super-tight, to show off the bodies. (Sadly, most men still neither worked out much–and those who did, often skipped leg day so they really didn’t have much of an ass to show off in their tight jeans.) Shorts were short–sometimes barely covering the full butt cheeks, and those ragged strings everyone had in their cut-offs that were barely more than a square cut today. It was a tragic decade for fashion–for most styles of everything, really. Cars were big and ugly, so was furniture, and the middle class’s tract homes all looked the same with the dark shag carpeting, the wood paneling (even on some cars!), and linoleum. And the memories these forays into research wormholes bring back! And the nice thing is those memories aren’t painful anymore? So what if I didn’t have any real friends because most everyone was afraid of fag cooties? I read a lot of books, made up a lot of stories, and was always able to entertain myself so I was never lonely. Sometimes I would just pick out a kids’ mystery to reread. I didn’t leave the house much, really, other than for school or the occasional shopping foray with my mom until we started going back to church (a tale for another time). But I didn’t get into trouble, I kept to myself, and it didn’t bother me that I was solitary because…my natural default is solitary. Whether solitude was meant to be my default, or not minding being alone developed it that way or not, is a mystery for the ages.

And now that I’ve grown up into a published author, I find that I really do prefer solitude. It’s lovely to get together with people I care about, but…much as I enjoy that (and I do), I wouldn’t miss it terribly if it went away tomorrow and I spent the rest of my life as a hermit in my apartment. Oh, probably enforced solitude would probably not be my thing either, but it’s something one can dream about, at any rate.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely little Tuesday, and I’ll be back to check in with you again tomorrow for Pay the Bills Wednesday!

The Logical Song

Monday back to the office blog, and it’s taking me a while to get my morning together. I feel good this morning; like this latest round of depression has finally ended. Not that anything happening in the world has gotten better–it certainly grows worse with every passing day; at least Germany had a fairly stable economy for a little while before things got super dark there in the 1930s, you know–but I always have to remember that I am not completely helpless in the face of the rising evil in the world, I do have a voice, and I should never in a million years allow the bastards to get me down and keep me from being tired or feeling beaten. This has been a lifelong struggle for me, and now almost every American is finding out how it feels when the government doesn’t give two shits about you–it never did, but people are finally waking up to the realization that unfettered capitalism, the ideal state for Ayn Rand, doesn’t work because her “men of the mind” always allow their greed and inhumanity to take control of things.

It was very easy for capitalist pigs to convince Americans that regulations–for their own safety–weren’t necessary. So, I guess we all needed a hard reminder that capitalists and corporations only care about money, and don’t care if they poison you in the name of profit, since some people never fucking learn and will never read history.

This last bout of depression was undoubtedly triggered by coming down from the Festivals, having to return to work, and all this horrible fears about my job and potential retirement. Thanks again, MAGA voters. But I do feel good this morning, better than I have since before the festivals, and so am hoping that this will carry me through until I get everything done that I need to get done. I have a shit ton of emails to answer and more to send. I have a lot of writing to do, and I need to get my taxes done once and for all. I need to pay bills, and I need to run some errands on my way home from work. I also feel physically better; I never really got past the Festival induced exhaustion. We’ll see how this goes.

I did manage to read some yesterday, and managed to finish the first part of Moonraker before my mind stopped focusing yesterday. It did amuse me; the entire first fifty pages or so of the book are about introducing the mysterious billionaire Hugo Drax, who has moved to England and is developing an amazing defensive weapon that could protect the UK from Soviet nuclear weapons, and has gotten deeply involved in British politics (sound familiar? That’s part of the reason I am revisiting the novel), and revealing him to the reader as a cheat at cards. He plays at M’s men’s club (ah, those last vestiges of the Empire and class distinctions!), and the manager suspects that he’s cheating, as he is quite successful. The manager and M want Bond (who became a master at cards on the job; can’t help but think of Casino Royale) to figure out how he’s doing it, and then give him a lesson to protect the club from a cheating scandal. Imagine the first part of a Bond film being about cheating at bridge! It also begs the question of just how far from the original character and his world as conceived by his creator, and how insane it’s gotten as the film got bigger, crazier and campier.

I spent more time on social media this weekend than I like to on the weekends, mainly because of the unfocused brain and my inability to focus–although social media, methinks, has had a lot to do with making my ADHD worse–and I could easily do that while watching the country burn to the ground on the news, and while watching documentaries about the Hapsburgs and how their incestuous marriages–a long-standing family policy geared to protect their money and their lands–eventually led to their downfall, I found myself getting sucked into several on-line dramas that just further illustrate divisions in the country. First up was the candle thing; turns out a gay candle maker decided to make a candle commemorating Cory Booker’s filibuster…and one of the options was cotton-scent. First of all, yikes–and then when Black women started calling the dude out for profiting on Black labor, he doubled down, and then someone came to his rescue–or attempted to, at any rate; this person (I am not using pronouns because I don’t know how they identify) was “camp callout”–I’d seen some of their videos about MAGA regrets, but…this person turned out to also be deeply problematic: long story short, Camp has a very well documented MAGA and anti-trans past; and then the candlemaker turned out to be a convicted sexual offender. Whoops!

Needless to say, they have both disappeared from social media, at least for now.

The bouncy house thing was another one of those “is this a real post or is it parody” posts, in which a white woman complained that the Hands Off protest she attended (her first protest) didn’t have any entertainment for her bored child, suggesting a bouncy house…and she got dragged for it, rightfully so. Good on you for going to your first protest, what the fuck are you thinking have you never seen a protest before? Granted, white people tend to not get teargassed or beaten or had police dogs set on them or firehoses trained on them (unless they’re protesting genocide!) because white privilege, but it was an incredibly tone deaf thing to say, given our proud history of incarcerating Black and brown protesters, along with their children. Leave the kids at home. Then another white gay man (sensing a theme) came in hard for Black women laughing at this idiot…calling them bullies. No one was bullying this woman…and tell me you don’t know any Black people without saying the words. I don’t speak for the Black community, but I do know the difference between bullying and clowning, and that was what was going on. People were laughing at her. No one was wishing her or her children harm, any of that stuff.

Maybe make some Black friends, Keith Edwards? Won’t be watching your channel anymore.

This, for example, is why Black people can’t trust white people–and similarly, why queer people can never fully trust straight people (having your bridal party go to a gay bar doesn’t make you an ally…being an ally doesn’t mean centering yourself and crowding out the people you’re supposed to be an ally of, for the record).

And on that cheery note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have as lovely a Monday as you can hang with, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)

Saturday morning and I have a couple of errands to do this morning. I need to go by the bank (I haven’t made a deposit in person in eons) and I have to swing by the grocery store. Sigh. I really didn’t want to leave the house today, but here we are. It’s also a struggle these days to get through as we go through and experience the collapse of the American experiment in self-rule. I think another significant part of our history that isn’t taught the way it should be is we aren’t taught about how many Tories there were in the colonies during the lead up to and aftermath of the Revolution. We aren’t taught New England threatened to secede during the War of 1812, or that there were people on both sides of the Civil War1 that sympathized with the other side; North and South weren’t monoliths the way we are taught. We aren’t taught about how many Americans were Nazi sympathizers and isolationists before Pearl Harbor, using the slogan “America First”–so you see why I have always raised a cynical eyebrow whenever anyone uses that slogan; it was tied to Nazi sympathizers to me.

Watching the collapse of our country is challenging and more than a little bit depressing. It is terrible that just as I approach the age of retirement and the final chapter of my life…well, the retirement may turn out to be involuntary, as my clinic’s funding is definitely on the chopping block, Social Security is about to be looted and destroyed, and I don’t want to even look at the paltry 401k, which has also probably evaporated. No job and no retirement funds is going to be awesome when I turn 64. Paul got the notice from the NEH to not bother applying for grant funding, as it’s all been cut, so his job may not survive this, either–no more festivals in the spring. So, miss me with “we need to be nice to MAGA voters now finding out”–fuck them now and forever. I will never forgive them, and their suffering lightens mine. You want to embrace them, be my guess. Me? I will never stop laughing and pointing, let alone mocking them and enjoying their tears. My patience has worn out for ignorant haters, sorry not sorry– and as they so eloquently put it, “fuck your feelings.”

Yesterday was a nice day, overall. I got up, had a virtual meeting at work, and then did my Admin work before running some errands. I got that done, and then Paul and I made a Costco run and spent an insane amount of money. After getting home, lugging everything into the house and putting it all away, I was tired. I collapsed into my chair for a while as Paul went upstairs to work on the NEH grant–but got the email so didn’t have to bother for the rest of the evening and we dove further into The Residence, which I am greatly enjoying. Uzo Adoba is fantastic as Cordelia Copp, the world’s greatest detective, and it’s very well cast, high production values, and the writing is quite crisp. The chief usher at the White House (the divine Giancarlo Esposito) is murdered during a state dinner, and Cordelia is brought in to solve the murder. I think what’s most interesting is the divide between the White House domestic staff v. the White House political staff; the domestics work for the House, the political staff comes and goes. I’d never really thought much about the staff of the residence, so it’s an interesting look at how that all works, and it’s very cleverly structured. Highly recommend.

I do have some errands to do today, and a lot of straightening up to do as well. I want to get some reading and writing in this morning, so I can go to the gym tomorrow (I know, right?) and get some more done. I’ve been letting things slide a lot lately, which probably means I am depressed, which isn’t surprising, given the state of the world and everything else going on in my life. I think there’s an element of why bother with this book, to be honest, which is counter-productive and quite self-destructive, but it’s hard to be productive when your default is almost always pessimism. I always knew Republicans were working very hard to destroy everything decent about this country (unfettered capitalism is sociopathic in nature), but I never dreamed they might actually succeed. To paraphrase Game of Thrones: “Whenever I wonder why the Republicans would do something so counter-productive to democracy, I like to play a little game: what is the worst reason they would want to do this?”

Littlefinger was right, even if he did end up with his throat slit for his treachery.

Yesterday I also realized that one of the great American traditions, going back to colonial days, of evading paying duties and tariffs was smuggling. I used to love to read about Colonial smugglers (John Hancock was one), and some great fiction was built up around smuggling. I’ve always thought the years of Prohibition (and alcohol smuggling) in New Orleans would be an interesting time to write about. That decade saw the rise of Huey Long to power in Louisiana, and there are some fantastic stories about that post-Storyville time here. Jean Lafitte was a pirate, too–but he was also a very successful smuggler. But again, one of the great problems of New Orleans/Louisiana research is going down wormholes and sidebars–my ADHD does not matters at all in this regard; I do remember wanting to write about “Mrs. Officer,” the first woman cop in New Orleans, who was hired because they needed a woman to search and interrogate criminal women, which was a problem during Storyville days. I mean, what a great decade to research and write about! Imagine what “Mrs. Officer”2 endured in terms of misogyny as the only woman cop in an era where women couldn’t vote.

There’s also a protest today scheduled in New Orleans, as well as around the country. I’m hoping to make it, it just depends on how tired I am after getting things done this morning. I feel pretty good right now, but that also doesn’t mean I won’t flag later, either.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you most likely tomorrow morning.

  1. This is a classic example of why I say we don’t teach history properly (which will end up being a longer-form essay for my newsletter at some point). There were plenty of Tories during the American Revolution. There were Southern sympathizers in the North and Unionists in the South–I knew about the North, but whenever I’d come across that about the South I figured it was after-the-fact apologia, excusing Southern whites for their inhumanity. But over the least few years as I’ve done more deep dives into Alabama history, and hearing more old family stories, I’ve come to realize it was actually true. Erik Larson discusses this in more detail in his The Demons of Unrest, which I do recommend. ↩︎
  2. SHe was always referred to as “Mrs. Officer,” which also makes a great title. ↩︎

Knock on Wood

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I can go in a little later than usual this morning, so I am sipping my coffee and eating my morning slice of marble coffee cake (from Rouses, and I love it) and slowly trying to get it together this morning before I hit the road for the office. I did some work last night, and some chores when I got home, but feel a little tired this morning–moving kind of slow here at the junction–but I can come straight home from the office tonight and I am going to get some work done tonight. Tomorrow is my work-at-home, and I have a department meeting to get through also. I can live with it. I think we’re also going to Costco this weekend (got to stock up before prices start rising uncontrollably, thanks again, MAGA trash voters), and I really need to pull it together for myself. The auction is still making money (the auction is closed but the donate button is still active), which is super-awesome, and very uplifting. Obviously, it doesn’t mean everyone who donated and everyone who bid are actually allies through and through, but it’s something, and I am not going to be cynical about raising over 300% of our goal. Woo-hoo, way to go, everyone! A bright light shining through these steadily darkening times.

It was very windy yesterday and we are having high winds again today, which is odd. It’s also much warmer than it usually is around this time of year, which is also odd, and definitely problematic for the looming summer. Sigh, and everything is going to be more expensive, including power (thanks again, MAGA!). The two grocery runs I made this week came out to over $140 combined, and I didn’t really get all that much, which completely sucks. I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, and wrote for a little while until I got stuck. I still got in over a thousand words, so I am calling that a win.

This week, a recovery from the festivals week, also involved the auction–not to mention the easy to see it coming second Great Depression–so it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster and now that all the adrenaline has died off, I am a bit worn down, which is why I think I am physically tired and a little mentally fatigued. The day is going to be relatively easy, overall; we’re not busy in the clinic today and I should be able to get a lot of paperwork and admin stuff taken care of, and I get to go home an hour early, which is terrific. Sparky will certainly appreciate it, and I want to get some chores done tonight. I need to do another load of laundry, and the dishes, pick up around the apartment, and take out garbage and so forth. Sigh. We also have a department meeting tomorrow morning that I can join remotely. Sigh.

I also have to get back to reading my current reads. I was enjoying both The Get Off and Moonraker, so I want to get them done soon. Moonraker is more interesting in the juxtaposition between the tone and tenor of the books vs the silliness of the movies. It is very much of its time, and the whole “gentlemenly” approach to the spy genre is snobbish. classist, and yet still interesting in a weird, classist elitist kind of way; the whole gentility thing they still have across the pond is something we’ve never quite adapted completely, which isn’t a bad thing. It’s been tried before, obviously, and some are still trying; the Boston Club and other organizations like it dot New Orleans–because of Carnival krewes. Carnival krewes were, from the very beginning, nothing more than an extension/adaptation of the men’s clubs in London, which I will definitely need to talk about when I write my essay about revisiting the novel.

And on that groggy note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Thursday be free of drama and full of joy, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.