Category: shopping

Too Long a Soldier

My word, I was tired yesterday when I got home from the work day, so much so that all I could do was basically eat something and collapse into my chair. I don’t know why I was so tired, but I was. It was a nice day, actually; informative and saw some people I don’t see very often. I also got a service plaque or twenty-one years on the job, which is kind of staggering–and something I should talk about at some point, I guess. I just like to try to keep my separate lives from overlapping. It’s kind of ironic that I circled back around to having two distinct and separate lives again; who’d have thunk it? But I keep the two lives–day job and public–apart as much as I possibly can. I also have my private life, which I don’t really share much of–probably more than I think, but much less than twenty-odd years ago when this–the blog–began. Ironically, I started keeping this blog about two weeks before I started the day job, so the two are also kind of linked in my mind.

Paul even did the bedding yesterday, so I wouldn’t have to. I ordered a pizza for dinner because I didn’t have the energy or bandwidth to look through the cupboards and the refrigerator to throw something together.

As an example of how tired and worn out I was yesterday, I slept about ten hours last night, and could have stayed in bed longer had I not opened my eyes and seen the time. I feel better now that my coffee is kicking in, but today was questionable when I first got out of bed! My fan broke earlier this week–Paul said he’s been having trouble sleeping as well last night, and I think we both subconsciously miss the sound of my little fan. That, of course, will be remedied today. I think I’m going to buy one; once I am completely awake I think I’ll do a mail and grocery run–and they have fans at the grocery stores here. The heat has been insane–it was 98 when I drove home from Dillard yesterday (!!!) and humid as all fuck. Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Do it before noon before it gets really hot (!!!), get home and get cleaned up and do chores and read and organize and do other things as the mood strikes. I did figure out Chapter 4 of the book last night, despite the exhaustion, so that’s a good thing. I also intended to load the dishwasher before bed last night and I didn’t do that, either. Since the theme of this week was tired, I didn’t keep up with the chores as well as I did the previous two weeks, and so there is more for me to do this morning/afternoon.

I don’t even want to look at the news this morning. Talk about exhausting. I think I may go back to the old “no news is good news on the weekends) mentality I used to have back in the day; we all need to take breaks from the madness from time to time for the sack of our mental health, you know?

I think that could have also had something to do with why I’ve been having trouble sleeping this week, too–the fucking news. It’s always an assault on decency and humanity and everything that is good in this world, as the country burns to the ground and the world continues to shed its reliance on the United States–which is, actually, a good thing for everyone concerned, because it’s showing we the people that the world can get along fine without us. Look at Ukraine’s success battling Russian since they stopped sharing intelligence with us! NATO and Ukraine are showing Europe–and Russia–that they don’t need our support or assistance.

So much for that hideous and horribly ugly American trope of you have to back us or you’ll be speaking Russian before you know it that has existed since August 1945. How many markets have we lost now, because we elected a cowardly bully with a brain that has never worked properly?

Okay, enough of that. I do not want to go down that dark mental path today. And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and have some breakfast while I read for a bit. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow!

Not a fan of the facial grooming look–ugh, mirrored sunglasses–but the body is nice.

Cool Zero

Friday morning and I need to drive out to Dillard University’s campus for an all day training, under the guise of Staff Development Day. I’d rather be working at home today, to be completely honest, but that’s also okay. Next week I finally have my normal four days in, one day at home work schedule for the first time since mid-June. Here’s hoping it’s a fun and interesting day and my mind doesn’t wander, like it does when I get bored (sorry/not sorry; that goes back to first grade with me), which will just make the day drag out longer than it will already seem. Heavy heaving sigh.

I was very tired yesterday, but I managed to run my errand to make groceries on the way home and then I just collapsed into my easy chair “just for a minute” but then Sparky fell asleep in my lap and I stayed there until Paul got home (late). I caught up on the news (sigh) and then just watched clips of Game of Thrones on Youtube; it really was an incredibly well done show until those final two seasons when they blew it all up. The thing that was great about the show was that everything was unexpected and unpredictable; any character could die at any moment, but as the show went on, it became apparent that some characters would make it through to the end for the big climactic arc, which they might not survive. The three Lannister siblings, Sansa, Arya, Jon, Daenarys…they weren’t going anywhere. The finale, and the last two seasons, were a missed dismount, sadly. Would it have been too difficult for them to write an incestuous (but they were incestuous) marriage between Jon/Aegon and his aunt, Daenarys? I guess they really wanted that episode of Kings Landing being destroyed and Cersei dethroned and killed. With Jon/Aegon on the Iron Throne, Sansa wouldn’t have felt the need to make the North independent….ah, what could have been–and yes, the hints of her Targaryen madness were there from the first episode; it’s kind of interesting how Daenarys and Sansa went through an almost similar path to their finale. (It was also kind of awful how character growth for women often involved rape and abuse, or, in Cersei’s case, a public humiliation.)

But if anything was changed, we’d lose that magnificent final scene of Lady Olenna Tyrell roasting Jaime before she dies. (It did beg the question of why she never had Cersei poisoned. Ah, well.)

I didn’t do much writing yesterday, due to being so tired–I really was, but it wasn’t fatigue, it was just being worn out. As tired as I was, it was nice that it wasn’t the fatigue from before. I did sleep pretty well, despite waking a few times, but I am really looking forward to tonight’s sleep–since I don’t need to get up to an alarm tomorrow. Tomorrow? We’ll see how I feel and how it goes when I get up, I reckon. I want to get back on board with my writing, obviously, and may do some tonight when I get home–depending, of course, on how I feel after this day of professional development. I also want to finish reading my book–that’s what I should do after work this evening–and start reading my next. There are also some newsletters I need to get finished and scheduled. I didn’t send one at all this week, and I don’t remember if I sent one last weekend or not. Ah, the last one went out on July 6th, so ten days ago (I did, however, send three over five days that first week of the month) so yes, there is definitely one due this weekend.

I didn’t watch the unpresidential address last night, and it looks like it turned out to be exactly what I expected it to be–more whining and grievances from the colicky diaper baby in the White House, and just yet another reminder of how lovely it was before the unholy alliance between Fox, the Republicans, and the Heritage Foundation to undermine our democracy and establish a conservative religious state, similar to Iran, took hold.

Sigh. At least Ukraine continues to drag Russia to the hell they so richly deserve.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your weekend eve, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with a full report on Friday!

Live oaks dripping with Spanish moss is one of my favorite things about the South.

Don’t Walk Away

Well, good morning, Thursday, how are you doing today? Yesterday wasn’t a bad one, frankly. I woke up before my alarm, feeling very well rested, and went to work. I also had a good day at the day job, which included getting some things taken care of, and I took care of another (non-work related) task over my lunch break. I did get a little tired in the late afternoon, but it wasn’t a big deal and I also had to run an errand on my way home, too. I worked on the book some, but wasn’t really feeling it a lot yesterday. I’m a perfectionist, of course, and I’d rather not write something I know is terrible, but that’s what the next draft is for, too. I need to really get out of my own way sometimes. Sigh. WE also watched the season finale of Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which was excellent, and set up a second season perfectly, which I didn’t see how they were going to manage, but they did. Highly recommended, of course. I slept decently last night, too, even if I did wake up a few times. I’ve not slept through the night in a while, actually; something to discuss with my doctor the next time I see him…which reminds me, I have a new doctor. Sigh. My previous doctor, whom I really liked, moved away and I am being reassigned to someone new. I hope this goes better than the last time my doctor moved and I was reassigned to a homophobic quack whose idea of being my doctor consisted of oh you’re just getting older, which led to my ulcerative colitis going undetected for years, and of course the misdiagnosis of my bicep tear, which resulted in a minor surgery becoming a major one….and the UC worked with the surgery to keep me weak, fatigued and brain fogged. I really should have sued him for malpractice; multiple medical professionals have told me that–which is frankly rare, as they tend to close ranks against outsiders, just like the police.

Sigh.

It looks like Ukraine is kicking the shit out of Russia now, and more power to them, as Moscow and St. Petersburg burn, their energy production has been crippled, and they are being driven out of Crimea, after a 12 year illegal occupation. I also appreciate that, unlike their foes, Ukraine isn’t targeting Russian civilians. How much longer can Putin hold on to power? A defeat in Ukraine and a surrender would probably do the trick–but I think he’ll hold on until his own people and/or military rise up against him. I highly recommend Vlad get the Romanovs-in-a-basement-in Ekaterinberg, but of course, your mileage might vary.

I am feeling a little spacy this morning, which is to be expected; it’s Thursday and I am slowing running out of steam like I always do on Thursdays. I have an all-day staff development tomorrow, which is mostly a training that we usually do at our own pace in free time during the work day. I hope I won’t be sleepy! I’m going to stop and make some groceries on my way home tonight; and I need to put the clean dishes away and take out some trash. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some writing done as well. I am enjoying myself writing now again, and it’s something I wish I could dedicate even more time to; but I also like that I’ve somehow managed to wean myself out of the 3k a day binge writing I’ve done for so damned long. I want to finish Chapter 4 before planning out the next four chapters; because I am not entirely sure how it’s going to go from there.

I’m trying to not talk about politics on here anymore–if you don’t know where I fall politically by now, you really should do something about your lack of reading comprehension skills, although I imagine it’s too late for those kinds of considerations at this point. But JFC, how is this not the worst possible timeline? An exploding diarrhea pandemic? This is what happens when you vote for a narcissistic sociopath who thinks anyone is qualified for a high-level public service job as long as they lick his ass and pretend he won the 2020 election. Tonight he is going to put out some baseless claims about the 2020 Georgia elections, in particular the two senators who won–one of whom was reelected already, and the other is looking damned presidential already. Why people continue to attach themselves like remoras on a great white shark to FOTUS’ ass, but here we are.

Newsflash: he’s never cared about you, he never will care about you, and his autopsy is going to show an almost entirely smooth brain.

And here locally, our governor, Janky Jeff Landry, has decided to come for New Orleans because he and his should-be-disbarred piece of shit Attorney General filed criminal charges against her…newsflash: being Attorney General means you enforce the law equally, not target your political foes. Janky Jeff actually said this week that “New Orleans thinks it’s special” and “New Orleans isn’t the primary economic engine in the state anymore.” Would that be because of the fucking data centers that nobody fucking wants in Louisiana except for Janky Jeff and the donors who own his crusty unwashed ass? If New Orleans is so fucking unimportant now, Janky Jeff, why don’t you keep your crusty unwanted ass out of our city? No, you bring important guests to New Orleans all the time. You come to every big sporting event at the Dome–Super Bowl, Sugar Bowl, etc.–and love to eat our food and show off our city but then you’re going to shit all over it? Fuck you to the moon and back, you piece of shit. So Louisiana no longer claims the Saints? The Pelicans? Carnival? Jazz Fest? The billions in revenue New Orleans tourism brings?

By all means, Janky, take your VIPs to Shreveport or Lake Charles or Monroe. That will sure impress the hell of them. You’re doing such a great job as governor, too. How has anything he done improved life for any one single Louisianans? I’ve got time, I’ll wait, cuck boy. Take all the time you need.

Louisiana deserves better, and I will laugh my ass off if the recall petitions for him and his bitch AG succeed and they get voted out.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I hope I’ll be able to get my entry finished before the training tomorrow morning. Until then!

Sigh, Italy.

Cerebral Man

Wednesday Pay the Bills Day has rolled around again somehow, and so I get to spend some part of my day doing just that: paying the goddamned bills. Evangelicals keep promising the rapture, can y’all get your shit together and let us know when exactly this is going to happen? I intend to have fun during the end times, and I have zero interest is paying my bills during that time. Of course, whenever I think about these things, I do reflect on what a paradise it will be without the evangelicals here….oh, wait. They were Left Behind? (see what I did there?1) After the rapture, think how much fun it will be reminding evangelicals why they are still here.

I’m petty, what can I say?

I’ve been listening to the new Madonna album, Confessions II, and it’s good; probably her best album since the original Confessions on a Dance Floor and I have to admit, it’s a lot of fun having Madonna back on form again. As I listen to it while I drive around, I remember other Madonna bangers–there were quite a few–and what a fucking legend she is, and it also takes me back to my gay bar days and weekends. I don’t miss going out and dancing all night–much too old for that now–but I do have a lot of marvelous memories–or would if I could remember any of it, ha ha ha. I feel another essay coming on…there’s no celebrity that I am such a huge fan of that I can’t judge their work independently; I am not a “I love everything so-and-so has ever done” unless I actually do love everything so-and-so has ever done; but I don’t cape for famous people nor do I try to defend them against the indefensible on-line. I’ve stopped being a fan of some celebrities once I realize they aren’t good people–looking at you, Gloria Gaynor and Carrie Underwood, just off the top of my head (nothing makes me madder than people who use gay men for money and fame like that two-faced MAGA skank Kristin Chenowith; Judy or Liza would never). Also, there are people–adults now–who know nothing of Madonna, which is insane to me. If you want to talk disruptors…she was the original, and we’re all the better for it.

I feel rested this morning, so I think I slept better last night than I have the last two nights–or my body has adapted to getting up early. I have an employee development thing at work on Friday–everyone in the agency has to go–so once again, not a normal weekend for one Gregalicious. Sigh. The highs for the rest of the week are in the nineties, and I am sure the heat advisories are back, too, although we didn’t have one yesterday. It was actually kind of nice and cool when I left for the office yesterday morning, and according to the forecast the rain is returning this weekend. It was overcast a lot for the rest of the day after the rain passed in the morning, and it was definitely hot when I came home. I had to swing by the post office on my way home yesterday to pick up a package, and dashed into the grocery store for one item. I washed the dishes and cleaned out the sink last night, running the dishwasher just before I went up to bed. So yes, came down to a lovely clean kitchen (well, cleaner at any rate) this morning, which was absolutely lovely.

My coffee is kicking in! I like this leaving for the office later thing I’ve been doing, and I don’t care if I have to stay there until 5, you know? Yay! I do have some things I want to get done today. I didn’t do much work on the book yesterday–a couple of hundred words, at best, and I honestly don’t think I hit a hundred with fiction yesterday. I have to pay the bills and have another task I need to get finished today–preferably this morning, actually, or over lunch–and I have some stuff to order and have delivered, either tonight or tomorrow.

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

Yes, yes, people are interested in his brains.
  1. If you are fortunate enough to be unaware, I am talking about the post-Rapture books by the evangelical scum by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins, which were popular for a few years around the turn of the century. Three films (starring certifiable freak Kirk Cameron), all as forgettable as the poorly written books. Most don’t remember them at all, and if I just reminded you of them, my apologies BUT WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO SUFFER ALONE?? ↩︎

Suffer the Little Children

Monday morning and it’s raining–there was a flash of lightning as I got up. I’m not sure how long it’s been raining already, but I suspect the deep sleep had something to do with it, as well as how comfortable the bed felt this morning. It looks like it’s going to rain most of the day, too, and more all week. Huzzah! I love rain, even if it makes me sleepy and want to curl up under blankets all the time. But we’re not in a flood warning or watch (the city did flood the other day, in all the usual places), so getting to and from work shouldn’t be an issue. I need to stop on the way home to pick up a couple of things, too. But I feel good and rested this morning, which is a very good thing. I did some more picking up and so forth yesterday while Paul watched the Wimbledon final, so the place looks decent this morning–always a nice way to start the week.

I read more of Rough Pages yesterday, and it’s really quite excellent. Lev’s work is very important, and this book focuses on gay literature and books at a time when they were considered obscene and unpublishable, educating while entertaining. It’s easy to forget that when I first came out, my sex life was a crime–punishable with a prison sentence if convicted. Homophobic cops, as Lev depicts in his work, loved raiding gay bars and breaking heads and ruining lives (bars in New Orleans continued to be raided for “public indecency” even after Lawrence v. Texas ended sodomy laws nation-wide). It’s also true that often times gay bars were owned by the mob and used to launder money, as well as pay off the cops. Cops, there to protect and serve ostensibly, requiring bribes to leave the queers alone. It’s not like this is a secret–I guess people just always assume cops are there to do good, and that’s the default we’re all trained to fall back on, when the truth is you have no idea how sideways an interaction with a cop can go at any time…and it’s worse, far far worse, for Black people.

It was another peaceful day around here yesterday. Sparky adapted to us both being home and went back to being his occasionally aloof self–not needing constant attention, but needing some every once in a great while–but that will definitely change while I am gone today. Paul continues to improve even more with every passing day; he really should be the poster child for rapid recovery.

Not only did Lindsey Graham pass from this mortal coil Saturday (give Satan a big hug for me once you’re all processed and assigned to a fire pit, Lindsey!) but rapist Conor McGregor got his ass beat that same night and blew out his knee, praise be. The world seems to be healing. One of those bigoted Giant pitchers got sent down to the minors, too. Aw, gee, bigot, maybe your God also thinks you’re a piece of shit and need to learn some humility…after all, it’s not your place to judge, is it? You’re not god, and you even suck at your job. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, bitch. May you never play another major league game–and never forget you achieved your dream before you threw it away happily with both hands. Pray harder, pig.

I also worked on the book. I’ve been stuck a bit with Chapter Two, so moved on to three and that went very well, and am quite pleased. We also finished watching The American Experiment, which did such a marvelous job of depicting what we are in the process of throwing away that I can’t help but recommend it; it was also very honest in reminding everyone that these liberiies and ideals were meant for white men only at the time.

Sigh. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I haven’t driven in rain in a while, so this drive to the office this morning should be interesting. Hope you have a lovely Monday wherever you may be, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning. See you then!

The thing about walking around your neighborhood that’s so great in New Orleans is you will always be shown poetic and inspirational images. This, for me, is a great story prompt.

Wide Awake in Dreamland

Sunday and wide awake, perhaps not in Dreamland per se, but definitely the Lost Apartment. Yesterday was a lovely day, really. I got up around seven and checked the news, put away the dishes, and pottered around in the morning over my coffee. As it turned out, Paul had plans for nearly the entire day from before noon until the mid evening, leaving me to my own devices for the day. I read some, puttered around a bit, wrote some, put some things on while I rearranged and reorganized during the day while he was gone, and kind of enjoyed the peace and quiet of a little alone time. It’s nice periodically to have a day that is entirely mine to do with as I pleased, you know? It would get old very quickly, I suspect, but as I said, it’s nice every once in a while. The thunderstorm also arrived just before one, too–at least that’s when the sky started darkening and I heard thunder in the distance. It was the proverbial New Orleans gully-washer with flash flooding alerts and so forth. Paul wasn’t home, so Sparky wanted to sleep in my lap all afternoon and I was frankly happy to allow him to; it was very cozy with the chilly damp in the air and the sound of rain pouring out of the sky and rushing along the walk to the lower level of the street. I watched the last two episodes of House of the Dragon, which were quite enthralling. It did pick up in episode two, after all, and these episodes I watched yesterday were very gripping and moved very quickly.

I apparently missed the news about Lindsey Graham’s sudden death yesterday, adnd have not read any of the reporting, just seeing some social media posts about it this morning. Awful as he was, there was a little part of my brain that felt sorry for him. I always felt that the mocking of his questionable sexuality bordered on the homophobic and made me uncomfortable, even as I succumbed to the temptation of the low-hanging fruit on occasion. I guess seeing him triggered my empathy because I would always think, whenever I saw him, how easily his “path” (we don’t know anything for certain, everything is speculation and cruel gossip rooted in the homophobic ideation that you can always tell. Um, tell Rock Hudson and Tab Hunter’s fans back in the day, or Rob Halford. Hell, they didn’t think Freddie Mercury of QUEEN was, so yeah, no you can’t) could have been mine. I often wonder how I, born gay into a rural Southern family steeped in that dominant Southern culture, may have turned out had we not left Alabama when I was two, which is where my place of empathy for Graham comes from–and now that he’s dead and cannot cause any harm to non-white non-straights anymore, I can shake my head with sadness about his wasted life. Even if everyone is reading him wrong and he was just not “masculine” enough1, that’s actually even sadder. He was a horrible person and his congressional voting record and public white supremacy mean the sympathy is more along the lines of a wasted life who could have spent his entire career doing things for his constituents rather than being a MAGA mouthpiece.

He certainly was a Harkonnen beta, and that is unforgivable.

With McConnell also dead (despite the pretense and this whole Weekend at Bernie’s bullshit they’ve been pulling with his brain-dead corpse–if he didn’t die before they took him out of his home, they sure were not in a hurry for someone found unresponsive in their home. These things come in threes–dare we to hope? As someone I admire greatly once wrote–dare we have the audacity of hope? This could be the best American summer in quite a while. Although in this shitty timeline, Anne Widdecombe probably counted as the other vile politician death in this glorious triumvirate.

Seriously, live your life so the world isn’t better off when you’ve died.

I slept late this morning and feel good and rested this morning, if a bit hungry. I do have to order some things for delivery and I’ll have to stop on my way home from the office tomorrow to pick up a few things. Today I am hoping to read and write and do some picking up around here. Paul slept on the couch last night (he said it’s easier sometimes for his knee when it hurts) so I can’t catch up on the news, so I will have no choice other than to read and write this morning. We watched a documentary last night on Netflix, Breakdown: 1975, which was a pivotal year culturally–this focused on politics and films, and that in wake of government distrust that permeated the country after all the scandals, how films became more cynical rather than optimistic and good didn’t always win in the end–and the good guy himself was not entirely a good guy either, unless he was an innocent pulled into something beyond both his knowledge and control, like Marathon Man. My Cynical 70s Film Festival that I did during the shutdown really emphasized how gritty and realistic the decade’s “serious” films by the auteur directors that rose in the 1970s were…and how Spielberg and Lucas changed the industry into the summer blockbuster mess it’s been ever since.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. My book is calling to me, and I need to read some other things for research purposes before I dig back into my own book and short stories and essays. Hope you have a lovely Sunday however you choose to spend it, Constant Reader, and I will see you again bright and early at six am again tomorrow!

Sure, whatever you say, there’s absolutely nothing homoerotic about professional wrestling. Uh huh. Nice ass, anyway.
  1. This would make a marvelous introduction to one of my essays about masculinity, wouldn’t it? ↩︎

The Art of Letting Go

Saturday morning, and a top o’ the morning to you, me pretties. Yesterday wasn’t too terrible, actually; I always make such a big deal out of things that aren’t big deals and I really need to break that really bad habit at some point before I die. I got up before the alarm, but hit snooze a couple of times before Sparky realized the alarm was mysteriously going off a fifth day in a row, which meant I’d be getting up soon which means breakfast for the kitty! And wasn’t it sweet of him to try to let me sleep in? I feel good and rested this morning; I was tired and sleepy last night when bed time rolled around, and I slept like a stone (how things that aren’t sentient are supposed to sleep has always mystified me) last night, and woke up relatively early this morning. Once again there’s supposed to be some serious thunderstorms in the late afternoon, which would be lovely and a nice time to curl up and read some more of the book I am currently reading and need to finish.

I was tired, though, when I left the office to run my errands before heading home to finish the chores. They didn’t have Creole tomatoes, which was enormously disappointing; I really wanted one of my grilled cheese sandwiches, which I need to rename because it’s not just a grilled cheese sandwich. I usually will put bacon, guacamole and Creole tomatoes on them, too; they are so amazingly good, and when you use Maldon salt and fresh ground pepper? My word. I’m going to have to go to the store again over this weekend to look for Creole tomatoes, which is the only thing I actually need to get. I was a bit brain dead when I got back home, and then worked on the laundry and other chores. I do feel like this is going to be a productive weekend, and I feel good about that. I really straightened up the books in the living room as a first step to making it look less like a FEMA zone, and also couldn’t find a copy of a book I was looking for, which means I’ll have to buy another copy. Oh well. I did also locate my copies of Dancer from the Dance and Faggots while going through the books, which was a bit of a relief. I can revisit them now, at some point. It’ll be interesting to see them again through a modern lens, remembering the first time I read both and what I thought of them then and how they hold up now. I really need to get back to my reading.

We watched an episode of Sugar and I had the end of an episode of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters (not enough monsters) on while I was straightening and picking things up last night. I also baked potatoe sbecause I didn’t feel like making ravioli or…anything, really. I also kept thinking it was Thursday all afternoon, and being confused by how early it was before remembering oh yes, you put in six hours at the office. Next Friday is Staff Development Day, also mandatory, and also all day. Hurray. Not loving this, honestly. I’ll survive though–at least, I hope so and if I don’t, well, I could use the rest and not aging anymore isn’t a bad thing.

Amazing what anti-anxiety medication can do for a person, isn’t it?

Paul is going to something tonight–he told me, but I forgot; some kind of art show he’s attending with his board president–so they’re having an early dinner first, which will leave me here alone with Sparky for a few hours later on–probably around the time the thunderstorms are predicted to hit the hood. I also want to do some more deep cleaning on the place; I need to move some furniture around, but getting all the shit various cats over the years have knocked behind or underneath them out. (I told you, I have not been as thorough with the housecleaning chores this decade as I used to be, and I wasn’t joking at all!) I also would like to work on a newsletter some more this weekend, maybe even get it sent out later today or tomorrow (I kind of went overboard with them over the holiday weekend and need to space the next ones out some more), and I do want to work on the book and some short stories today, too–we’ll see how it all goes, though, won’t we?

Okay, on that note I am heading into the spice mines. I am going to take my coffee into the living room and watch some news before I get cleaned up and going on this fine day. It looks beautiful outside my windows, and it’s not that humid because the windows aren’t covered in condensation. So, out with the trash and the recycling, too!

See you tomorrow morning!

Il Duomo in Florence from the air. I love Florence.

Invincible

Friday morning and I have a mandatory in-person meeting at the office this morning, so I am going to just stay there and do my hours at the office today. I can leave in the early afternoon and run some errands, too, so I can get things under control for the weekend before the weekend. The goal is to only go outside to either cook or take out trash/recycling, and work on the book, cleaning the house, and getting my body rested and recharged for another week of work. I was dragging a bit yesterday morning, but this new thing of “don’t have to be there till eight” (a long and not interesting tale I won’t bore you with) actually is working better. I get up at the same time, but I don’t have to rush–and rushing is when I will forget something or not do something and makes me feel off for the morning until I wake up completely. Yesterday afternoon I was fine, only a little mentally fried, and when I left work I came home and did some chores and some writing. Boo-ya!

There’s rain in today’s forecast this afternoon, but it shouldn’t be starting before I get home. I need to run uptown to get the mail after work, and I may make a grocery run as well (minor); depends on how I feel because I also am aware I can simply have things delivered. Having things delivered has so simplified my life, and I really don’t miss going to the grocery store, but I am fresh out of Creole tomatoes, and I need to pick those out in person. Paul is changing his eating habits, and I really need to change mine too–but it’s hard to be motivated to make significant changes to our bodies when you’re almost sixty-five. It’s still hard sometimes to understand or wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve lived so fucking long.

I feel good and rested this morning, which is a pleasant surprise. I worried about getting up at six an extra day, but it hasn’t phased me this morning in the least. MY mind is very alert and I don’t feel physically tired, which is great. Last night we caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which we are loving, and caught another episode of Sugar. I didn’t get any reading done last night, alas, nor did I do any chores last night. The good news is this doing them all week has me ahead on the chores, so the kitchen doesn’t look like a disaster area this morning, which is also nice.

A name I hadn’t heard in a while is trending on social media this morning because the hateful old bitch is dead. Yes, Anne Widdecombe has apparently died; I assume from choking to death on her own bile. She has always been a massive ally to the patriarchy, homophobic to her rotted and wizened soul and felt men had a right to women’s bodies without consent. I hope her death was horrifically painful, just as I hope Mitch McConnell is still alive but suffering deeply right now. “Don’t wish ill”? FUCK the people who wished me and my entire worldwide community ill, and actively worked to make our lives as miserable and marginalized as possible. No, I don’t have sympathy for her family because they love a monster, and sat by while she spewed vile putrescence and did as much damage as she possibly could…like McConnell. Anyway, here’s hoping for a pleasant day, right? I don’t mind being reminded of these vicious pieces of shit because they’ve died. I hope she’s enjoying roasting in hell.

Miss me with your high horse and moral superiority. I have about as much sympathy for these monsters as they have for me and people like me, so yeah, fuck off. I have no desire to give trash grace.

And on that note, it’s off to the office and my meeting and the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning, never fear!

Yes, gays will makes passes at pretty men who wear glasses!

Run Between the Raindrops

Monday morning in the Lost Apartment and it’s back to work for me today. Yesterday was kind of lovely. I slept later than I’d intended, but I must have needed ten hours of sleep and yes, as a result I felt quite marvelous all day yesterday. I relaxed and took it easy in the morning, doing some organizing on my computer over my coffee, which also tasted marvelous, and had some things for breakfast. My back up hard drive and all of my storage is in such bad shape, you have no idea. Fortunately I can do searches, but that’s if the file has been named and I can remember what I named it. I have so many picture files that are unnamed…I may never sort them all. I also need to stop collecting images of hot guys because I already have so fucking many of them. Sigh. I hoard computer files, too, what a surprise.

Of course, all I need to do is disconnect the damned hard drive and plug it into my laptop, so when my mind wanders while I’m in my easy chair I can sort the files and make some progress. Du-uh. I really have quite the grasp of the obvious, don’t I? We also had the most marvelous thunderstorm yesterday afternoon while I was working on writing–a plethora of different things; from newsletters to short stories to the book itself. I am very pleased with how the book is progressing–it’s slow going, but I am also very out of practice, and am still adjusting to all of this free time I have now that I’ve stopped volunteering. I honestly had no idea how much time I was spending on it. No wonder I was so tired all the time, and that being tired had something to do with the onset of the illness, whenever it was; my system was worn down and vulnerable. I don’t regret the time spent, of course–like I ALWAYS say, I don’t live a life of regret–but it is astonishing to have time that I can actually waste guilt-free. But now that I am healthy and getting back into the groove of my life again, my sense of joy and my sense of humor are coming back stronger than they were before, too. My illness and hospitalization was actually the best thing to happen to me in quite a while. And while I certainly don’t recommend it and don’t ever want that to happen to me again (not just sick but six nights in a hospital bed), it was the kind of wake-up call I needed.

I also had to laugh at myself a bit yesterday, too, speaking of my sense of humor. I had worked on a short story Saturday afternoon; I’ve had this idea for at least five years and for some reason it started kicking around in my head again on Friday, which is why I started writing it Saturday…only to discover I’d actually started it when I originally had the idea, after all…but now I know what the story is, what the right tone for it is, and that was absolutely some good work I managed Saturday. I had also worked on the book some on Saturday, too, and that also felt good, especially since I didn’t really feel like doing any writing at the time, but managed almost a thousand words without really any drive to write or any idea of what I actually was going to type out. I suppose I could do Jami Attenberg’s A Thousand Words of Summer, couldn’t I? Note to self: order her book.

And the Giants continue to lose, speaking of joy, and what makes it even better for me is to see those bigots are now pariahs in the city where they play. I don’t follow baseball outside of LSU, but I grin every time I hear that the Giant Bigots lose yet another time. I hope those fucks are booed and hated for the rest of their shitty, unwashed crusty ass lives. Newsflash: you’re okay with every sin but homosexuality, which didn’t make your God’s top ten. Have fun in hell–God don’t like ugly, and God don’t like men who think they speak for him, either. My values and beliefs don’t allow me to suppose hateful bigots. See how that works, you punk bitches?

And I wouldn’t be throwing a lot of stones about anyone if I looked like that in a baseball uniform, bitches. You’re supposed to be professional athletes, not the “before” in a gym advertisement. Can’t you look like one? Baseball has pretty much made it clear this summer that they embrace racism and homophobia; all that’s left is for them to demean women like the misogynist pricks on the US Men’s Hockey Team to complete their trifecta of enshittification. Well done, baseball. Way to turn America’s Pastime into a bigot-fest.

Oddly, if MLB has been a horrific disappointment for a fan of sports in general, the World Cup has been incredibly refreshing and fun to watch and experience. Erling Haaland has captivated me, the big goofy Norwegian Viking golden retriever that he is, and I also fell hard for the Cabo Verde team; what an inspiring tournament story they gave the world. And of course, loved the Scots and all the fans from everywhere. The world cup has, of all things, been so heartwarming and enjoyable (I do love seeing people enjoying themselves) and it’s also been lovely seeing the fans enjoying each other as well as themselves. That has been absolutely lovely and healing to see, as well as the hope for the future such things engender. I do generally prefer to be optimistic; at heart, I like to think I am usually cheerful and hope for the best…and I don’t enjoy when people make me not feel that way…which is yet another reason to hate those trashy asswipes who like to bring other people down.

I also love the anti-Trump chants they brought with them, my favorite? Aussie boys here on a bender, Donald Trump is a sex offender! Thank you, World Cup fans, for not letting him make this about his fat shitty ass, the way he will if he makes it to the Olympics in Los Angeles next year. I can only imagine the horrors his goons will unleash on LA before the games open. Heavy heaving sigh.

We had a marvelous thunderstorm yesterday afternoon, the lights even blinked a few times. It’s been a while since we had such a great storm, so I cuddled up with my blanket in my easy chair during the downpours while I worked on my laptop. It was marvelously cozy, I have to say. I’d intended to cook out yesterday, but the rain forced me into a dinner alternative and made something I’ve not made in years–and as I was eating it thought this is good for thrown together but I can make this a lot better which is how I always end up redoing recipes all the time. Some gravy would have been nice…bell peppers. Anyway, the rain was relaxing and calming as it always is.

I am pleased with the work I got done on the book, and the character’s voice is starting to come to me a lot easier and a lot faster than it has for a very long time. We’ll take that as a good sign, won’t we?

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

Sexy Angus O’Brien, one of the breakout stars from last summer’s Boots

Big Life

Sunday and the morning after the holiday; all is well and peaceful this morning in the Lost Apartment. I had stuff delivered yesterday, so I didn’t have to leave the house (I am getting a bit spoiled by all this delivery service, but it’s wonderful and I am not going to stop using it). I ordered everything in the morning and it was here by twelve! Ah, modern convenience. Something good that came out of the pandemic that future generations will thank us for. Who knew that horrible time had a positive impact in some ways? It made for a lovely start to the day, really. Sparky wanted me up early yesterday and rather than resisting his entreaties, I got up and started my day, which was cool. I did some filing and organizing, and I also finished and published a holiday newsletter yesterday, about the 4th of July and remembering back to the bicentennial in 1976, which was very different from what we saw yesterday and what we saw in the time leading up to yesterday. Everything he touches dies, doesn’t it?

Going outside to get the deliveries or take out trash/recycling wasn’t terrible. I may be acclimating to this summer, which might not be a terrible thing. Oh, I’ll still bitch and moan and whine and sweat and feel the humidity sucking my soul out of my body like always, but…you do get used to it. You’re aware of it, of course, there’s no escaping any of that unless you’re inside the blessed cool, but your subconscious is aware that it’s not going to kill you even if it feels as though it might.

I wasn’t able to read any yesterday morning, alas. By the time I got everything ordered and delivered, and had done some of my chores it was past noon. Paul was up and watching Wimbledon, so I broke out the laptop and did some writing on it in the living room, which was nice. There was some good energy in the apartment yesterday. I felt really good and content. I also have some things to order for delivery today, too, which I also hope to take care of this morning. I polished a newsletter that has been sitting in my drafts since late May and will probably get it sent out tomorrow morning (I’ve done two in two days already this weekend, and I am aware it could quite easily be overkill). I also started two more, about more serious subjects, that I hope to get done this month. I need to finish Lev’s book so I can write about that, too. There’s literally no end, is there? There’s also the Half Man one I need to write…where’s my to-do notebook?

I also wrote about a thousand or so words of fiction yesterday, which felt good and was absolutely marvelous. We finished The Big Conn and hey, at least he felt remorse and bad for the victims, which is more than SSA did. WE started watching Sugar which we are loving Colin Farrell yum, love the stylizations and the occasional dips into classic Hollywood, and really like the character, too. Colin Farrell is perfect for this Ross Macdonald/Raymond Chander-style detective show; why has someone not tried filming a Lew Archer with him in it? You know what else I’d like to see? Alexander Skarsgaard playing Travis McGee. We also watched some of Wimbledon yesterday, and probably will watch some more of it this afternoon.

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


The Golden Band from Tigerland prepares to perform “Pregame” on the field. It’s the one with THE four notes that bring every fan to their feet.