Where Life Begins

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and so far, so good. I got up to feed Sparky and went back to bed for another few hours and was even reluctant to finally get up when I did at last. But my coffee is good, my coffee cake was even better, and I do feel good this morning. I did nothing of consequence yesterday, other than having some things delivered and picking up a little bit. I didn’t engage my mind much with anything–didn’t read, didn’t write much, didn’t do anything but let myself have a recharging day, and it seems to have worked. I actually wrote some stories in my head while I was sleeping, or in that half-sleep thing, which is incredibly cool. I need to be more productive today–at least a little bit. I did page through Valley of the Dolls and Peyton Place, reading random sections while thinking about the books themselves and their writers.

Hopefully, when I get around to writing those essays, they will be good.

I also spent time reconnecting to Dolly tributes and video compilations. I’m very glad they are renaming the Nashville airport for her. What a legacy to leave behind, right? So many incredible stories of kindness and charity and compassion, and none of it performative–as most of it was done quietly and without fuss. She loved the queer community when it was dangerous for someone with her fan base, her long time driver/assistant was a trans man, and she loved and embraced drag queens.

From now on, all I am going to say to people that hate drag queens is “Oh, wild, so you hated Dolly Parton? What a weird thing to admit.”

It’s kind of wild, but I had thought about writing a Scotty book about the murder of a Milo-type a while ago but chose a different story at the time; I don’t remember which it was; but it was after he did the whole “child rape can be consensual and good” thing–but I am sure a strike against it was how deeply unpleasant he is and how much I would hate learning more so I could credibly create a character from that foundation. Now, I am thinking about it again for this Scotty I am building, and it could easily be shoe-horned in. Hmmm, this could really be fun.

The goings-on over at HWA are troubling, to say the least. Much as I love horror, I’ve tended to keep that community at arms’ length…well, because there is always a lot of drama going on in that community. I’ve personally never had a problem with HWA; all of my dealings with them have been incredibly pleasant, and I even put on an event for them. I’ve seen a lot of drama over the years on social media and, choose to stay out of it. I’ll see posts here and there, but don’t look into it very deeply with a not my circus not my monkeys mentality. I’ve served on boards and even run them in a leadership position. I’ve spent more time in my life at board meetings than I would have liked or preferred, retrospectively. I don’t criticize organizations publicly, or their boards, for that matter. Even when I disagree with a policy or a statement or anything for that matter, I try to keep my mouth shut because the work is hard and any system (waves around at the world in general) can be hijacked and suffer institutional damage at the hands of a bad actor, or good intentions not landing right with the community. Unless I am going to get involved to clean up the mess, I am not going to criticize. I am not saying others can’t, of course–I wouldn’t know any of this if people didn’t debate these issues publicly, for example, and some of these controversies are general enough to be of interest and concern to all authors (AI issues, for example). I only speak for myself, I want to make that abundantly clear; I don’t even claim to speak for authors that I am friends with and talk to regularly. I think it’s a shame, though, but there seem to be a lot of factions and not a little bit of hypocrisy in the horror writing community. It’s a shame, because it’s a marvelous genre and there are any number of talented and lovely writers within it. I don’t like watching train wrecks, but always seem to get sucked into watching them–which is something I need to work on.

Speaking of horror, we watched Obsession last night, which was very unsettling and very well done. It wasn’t terrifying or jump scary; it was just very disturbing and creepy but impossible to look away from. It’s another variation on the be careful what you wish for trope, but the acting is phenomenal and it’s brutal and horrific–but I also can’t help thinking, it would be nice to see this from the woman’s perspective. Imagine the horror of being obsessively in love with someone while knowing you really aren’t but you can’t control yourself. Now that would be terrifying.

And now, I am going to get something more solid to eat than a slice of coffee cake, another cup of coffee, and then I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Screenshot

Keep It Together

Saturday!

His Majesty let me sleep late this morning–I did wake up at six and went back to sleep after a glance at the clock–and I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a surprisingly good day, all things considered. I got my work done, got the chores done, we went to Costco, and last night we watched the newest episodes of The Shards and Reacher. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked; the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and the counters are a mess, too. I have to order some things for delivery this morning, and then I’ll be all set for the weekend. My current plan is to not leave the apartment except to either take out trash (there is quite a bit of it), or to cook out. Next weekend LSU has its first game and it’s Labor Day weekend and it’s Southern Decadence, but this delicate magnolia flower actually can’t really handle standing around in oppressive heat anymore. I didn’t do any reading or writing yesterday, so hope to get to some of that today while I clean up around here and get the house under control. Ambitiously, I want to finish this chapter and a short story draft I’ve been working on, but we’ll see how everything goes. I also want to get out another newsletter this weekend, so I need to decide which draft I am going to finish.

But I do feel pretty good this morning, which is a very lovely sign that the day might be a good one.

Honestly, I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week. I thought it was because of the one-two punch of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry dying, which definitely played a part in it, but it’s also the weekend of the Katrina anniversary, which has always been an subconscious downer and mood-suppressor for me. It’s why I was so low-energy this week and unfocused. (I did enjoy seeing Carrie Underwood getting dragged for the filth she is on Threads and her post about Dolly. She really thought we’d forget her bending the knee for the tangelo toddler; she thought fucking wrong. I also laughed at loud at some stupid show business “journalism” website posting that Kristen Chenowith play Dolly in a bio-pic–the nicest response I saw was “do you want people to actually watch it?”)

This has been rather an interesting week, has it not, for stupidity and bigotries? Good Good now is claiming Callaway set them up to take a hit while buying their stock back at a much lower price because it dropped dramatically in trading price because of the abuser ad, and threatening to sue the. Oh, cute little stupid white boys–welcome to unregulated capitalism, and for being so fucking stupid you trusted a bigger company as a “partner.” You were of use to them until you weren’t. (I suspected this whole thing was manufactured to drop the stock price; you were the idiotic sexist jerks who gift-wrapped it for them.) But I also think it can easily be proven that people were demanding that Callaway abandon the partnership, too. I also love how the “boys” at Good Good (they aren’t men) feel betrayed and cheated and made the patsy–well, the number one rule of the business world is never trust anyone completely; always keep an eye open because they will screw you at the first possible moment, but it all sounds like Good Good trying to cope and shift blame….typical for white people, especially white men who are used to being catered to on everything. Maybe this lesson can make up for that high school diploma and college education you passed up, Garrett Clark, because you are now toxic and so is your brand…and it was all very public.

Good luck to you getting that stain out. But I’m sure you were smart with your big income and didn’t blow it and safely saved some and made some conservative investments with a low but solid and steady return.

Yeah, right!

Milo Yiannopoulos was arrested by ICE yesterday when he flew into New Orleans for his employer’s concert here last night. Mr. “we need millions and millions deported” is now going to be deported because he turned on his original foul lord and master. This is an excellent example of leopards feasting on his face or FAFO. I hope he enjoyed his stay in whatever detention center ICE has set up here, and Louisiana doesn’t concern itself too much for the health and safety of anyone incarcerated…so either they’re using one of the local places (I’ve crossed my finger for Orleans Parish Prison myself, but I’d prefer to see him picking cotton at Angola.) No, I am not celebrating ICE; I still consider them no better than the Gestapo or the STASI. I am, however, enjoying another far-right piece of shit getting exactly what he wanted for other people. I hope he’s banned from the country. Fuck that ex-gay pedo enabler/excuser, now and forever. His mugshot was terrible, and I love the petty bitchery of Homeland Security releasing it. They’re finally detaining the worst of the worst, and the schadenfreude is as delicious as a face is to a leopard.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will see you again tomorrow morning.

I love this view of the quarter and the river from the window of the Tennessee Williams Suite at the Monteleone Hotel

Spanish Eyes

Work at home Friday! I feel most excellent this morning as I sit here at my desk inside the windows, my windows covered with condensation and it being actually very chilly inside this morning. It’s in the high seventies outside right now. I ran errands on my way home yesterday and felt pretty worn down when I got inside and fed the Sparkster. Sparky wanted to sleep in my lap, so I gave in and provided him with a lap while I saw in my easy chair and did my usual catch up on the news thing while my min mostly wandered. I didn’t do any of the chores I wanted to get done last night, and this morning I do regret pushing that off until this morning. I have my biweekly team meeting at ten, and lots of paperwork to get caught up on today so I’ll be off-line for a good portion of the day, and we’re going to Costco this afternoon when Paul gets home from work. Today is the big laundry day, as it ever is, and between that and Costco–I may get some reading done; we’ll see. I may rewatch a Dolly Parton movie while doing my paperwork; I’ve been meaning to revisit The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas; why not this weekend?

What a week this was! I’m still a little frazzled from the one-two punch of Dolly and Tim Curry’s deaths–and the whole Callaway Golf/Good Good controversy (among others that broke this week, too) was completely insane. What was even more insane was watching the same men who got pissed that women will always choose the bear over a man, gaslighting women that the ad we all saw with our very own eyes, wasn’t “bad” or “just a joke.” (Hilarious how these asshole men kept doing this despite the apologies from both companies, the ad being pulled, and admitting they made a huge misogynistic error–but the “undescended testicles” brigade are still at this morning. Shock. The way some men will always circle the wagons to protect other men is why women choose the bear.) SO, I did do a bit of a deep dive on Garrett Clark, who issued the nine-minute non-apology yesterday. DId you know he was homeschooled, went to a private “Christian” school aka a segregation academy aka a Christian Nationalist school. Is it any wonder he thought shoving a woman to the ground and then getting in her face threatening her was funny? Apparently, his father told him to drop out of school because he was making so much as a content creator (it’s not like he was getting an education anyway), and you know, he was clearly raised and groomed to be a piece of shit pig man.

I also don’t think he learned anything from this, either–he’s just sorry his business is going down the toilet. Sporting goods stores and Costco pulled the merchandise, their reality show was canceled unaired, and both Callaway and the PGA severed ties with Clark’s stupid-stupid company. I guess he can put that excellent education to use now.

But in all honesty, the golf bro community will give him a chance to redeem himself–watch and see! There will be all these interviews about how hard it was to go through this, but he wasn’t that person and had to prove that to everyone (not anything about the lessons learned, if any are actually learned) to redeem himself, patting himself on the back all the time for how wonderful he is. And then he’ll say, with a very well rehearsed look on his face and a tear in his eyes, about how he is actually glad he fucked up, because learning made him a better person. The golf bros will all burst into tears and welcome him back with open arms and shoot loads in their pants while bashing “overly sensitive” women.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

But…women hold grudges, a quality I have always appreciated and try to emulate as much as possible. The North remembers, so does Pepperidge Farm, and so do women…and so do I.

Sigh.

But I am hoping for a lovely, peaceful weekend. Obviously, I have no control over the news or what’s going to potentially happen in the world, but hope springs eternal. I want to finish reading that book, get some writing work done (as always) and I need to send out another newsletter this weekend. The house is a mess, and today is, as I have already mentioned, a big laundry day, too. LSU’s football season begins a week from tomorrow, and I am starting to get a bit excited. I do love me some college football, after all, even when LSU isn’t doing well. Expectations are very high for a quick turnaround this season, but I am cautious and temper my hopes and prefer to wait and see how everything plays out. Last year, after LSU won the opener at Clemson, they were ranked in the Top 5, which was utter bullshit–as the rest of the season showed. (Polls–whether they are political or sports-related, are generally bullshit, which anyone who’s paid attention in the last ten years plus could tell you…which is why I am hopeful for the midterms, but not going to be surprised if it doesn’t go well. I’ve ceased giving my fellow citizens the benefit of the doubt anymore, and tend to expect either the worst, or the barest minimum, from them these days. Sigh.

And on that note, I am going to go get started on my chores before my meeting, and get going on the day job work, too. Have a lovely Friday, and I will be back tomorrow morning. Until then, ta-ta!

A nice looking young man, but why do so many underwear/swimsuit models all use the same size prosthetic bulge?

Act of Contrition

Thursday and it’s my last day in the office for the week, and I’m kind of glad to not have to get up tomorrow morning. This week hasn’t been terrible as far as being tired or sleepy or feeling worn out as I was–or has this been the case now for a while and I wasn’t paying attention? (That does tend to happen quite a bit.) It’s not sleepiness that causes me to hit the snooze button; it’s how comfortable and relaxed I am in the bed and under the pile of blankets that makes me not want to get up…and that’s every morning, not just the ones when I have to get up early.

Everyone is still reeling from the loss of Dolly Parton–who kept her cancer diagnosis private so “people wouldn’t worry” (so typical)–and it is very sad. I’ve been meaning to rewatch The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas for any number of reasons; maybe this weekend would be a good time? Maybe so; I saw it in the theater back when it was released and greatly enjoyed it, despite its many flaws. Naturally, there was some trash on-line who decided to be nasty about Dolly; there was one bitch in particular whose account eventually disappeared–her biggest reason for calling out Dolly’s mourners is because Dolly recorded a duet with Kid Rock and defended it. Oh my God, why wasn’t she burned at the stake? I believe that particular piece of shit may have either blocked me (I didn’t engage so not likely) or deleted her account. There was another one to that also trended for a while–a redheaded pile of dog shit I had already blocked. Anyone who is being shitty about Dolly Parton is a fucking piece of shit themselves. Dolly was the purest example of living Christianity we maybe ever had–so it wasn’t surprising that both the far right and the far left came for her. They really are the same people.

And now, Tim Curry, too? I’ve loved him since the first time I saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the performance was so fucking iconic that everyone who’s played the role since (sorry, Luke Evans) has just mimicked Curry’s performance and never quite equaled the master. He was usually the best part (or one of the best, at least; he did make a movie with Madeline Kahn, after all) of everything and anything he was in; his Cardinal Richelieu made the execrable remake of The Three Musketeers in the 1990s–and that’s a story I love, so for me to hate the film it had to be bad, right?–bearable. In fact, that was my entire opinion on the movie: Well, at least Tim Curry was in it. And yes, as I wrote about for my newsletter, seeing Rocky Horror when I was nineteen or twenty was eye-opening and mind-altering. He was just so out there and erotic and sensual and so not like anything I’d ever seen or imagined before (well, besides Liza in Cabaret)…Curry was a cultural touchstone for me, much as Dolly was.

What a shitty fucking week this has been, am I right?

Celebrity deaths generally don’t hit me very hard, with a few exceptions (Whitney Houston is one), but Dolly kind of left me off-balance, and the follow-up punch with Tim Curry while already reeling was very disconcerting. I ran an errand on the way home from work last night, and once I was home I just settled in for the night, mindlessly watching short documentaries about the Pacific War and thinking about the book. OH! A marvelous thunderstorm has just rolled in! It’s pouring rain outside! That will make driving to work fun this morning! (I actually don’t mind driving in the rain–safe and snug and dry inside the car while all hell breaks loose outside of it–but I do mind other drivers in the rain, who are absolutely terrifying here. You’d think it never rained here the way drivers here lose their minds driving in it.)

So, Janky Jeff is letting the Space Nazi build a “space port” here in Louisiana; on the Gulf Coast in Vermilion Parish…you know, on the wetlands1 that are at or below sea level–what we call a . What could possibly go wrong? A Category 3 storm surge will wipe it clean, if it doesn’t sink in the marsh first (concrete is heavy; which is why we can’t keep the roads up in New Orleans). But I am sure Janky Jeff and the Space Nazi did environmental impact studies in an endangered wetlands and…ha ha ha ha! NO they didn’t. I’d be surprised if they even did a feasibility study. This is going to help Louisiana continue to erode into the ocean and is going to destroy or wreak havoc on the ecosystem. I wonder how much Janky Jeff pocketed for this deal? Senate candidate Julia Letlow certainly has pocketed some.

Pecan Island Spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious.

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

This picture captures the essence of how I viewed New Orleans when we first moved here–a decaying yet still beautiful place with wild overgrowth. I think this may be the house they used for the exteriors for Mayfair Witches, as opposed to the actual house at First and Chestnut which is the actual house from the books.
  1. Pecan Island, the site, is what we call a chênière, a sandy ridge with live oaks. ↩︎

erotica

erotic…erotic…put your hands all over my body..

Madonna really recorded some bangers, didn’t she? (She still is; really enjoyed her latest record.)

So here we are on Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again, and wow, this month has certainly flown past like nobody’s business, hasn’t it? September looms, and there are even college games this weekend (nothing I’m interested in watching; but if an SEC team was playing I’d watch.

Dolly died yesterday, or at least, her passing was reported by her family on her social media channels. I’m a little taken aback, honestly, because there was something eternal about Dolly and she would always be here to help where she can and spread love and joy wherever she went. RIP, sweet princess! At least you’re with Carl again. Usually when a celebrity dies, I think oh that’s a shame if they were someone whose work I admired and pity when it’s someone I loathe (don’t try to school-marm shame me over that, either. I’ve watched too many good people die young to waste my time and energy and sympathy on a piece of shit that’s finally been flushed; not very Dolly of me, I know, but it’s who I am). Prince saddened me, but this was like a 2 x 4 to the forehead. Dolly was hardly perfect, but she was the best example of a real Christian, trying to do good to make up for whatever harm she may have caused. She distilled Christianity down to its core elements: kindness, charity, and empathy. There’s a reason she often got type cast as an angel, you know. What an incredible loss to the world.

And I will never get over the fact she wrote “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You” on the same afternoon. I mean…wow.

Yesterday wasn’t bad, outside of losing Dolly. I wasn’t quite as groggy when I got up yesterday morning and felt pretty good all day. Sparky was incredibly needy when I got home, so he demanded a lap and some cuddles to feel safe and secure again. He’s very neurotic, much more so than any other cat we’ve had; when we boarded him the last time I went to Alabama he was very traumatized and terrified; his abandonment as a kitten must have been very traumatizing for him…to the point I don’t think we can ever board him again. (It’s hard enough thinking that the cat thinks you’re dumping him again…) Paul was late getting home, and when he did we watched an Outer Banks, in which John B and Sarah ran off to New Orleans to find her mother, who has the scytale, which…it’s one of those insane treasure hunt plots that sounds even more insane when you try explaining it, so I won’t. (Every time someone said “the Big Easy” Paul and I said, in unison, don’t call it that. LOL. And we’re not entirely sure it was actually filmed here…somehow they got to a body of water here without going over a levee, and it couldn’t be the river because there was no current.) Every time I start to wonder if I am still a New Orleanian… I see something that makes me think oh, yes, you still are a snobby New Orleanian.

If I’ve learned anything from watching Game of Thrones, it’s you can never go wrong wondering what the worst reason for someone to do something like this–and you’ll only go wrong due to a failure of your imagination to realize just how corrupt, vile, and disgusting some human beings can be. When I saw the horrible golf club commercial, my jaw literally dropped. As I was reading some of the social media postings about it, I assumed it was probably bad…but I had no idea how bad. I still can’t believe a company in this year of our Lord 2026 was okay with this commercial. The fact that the man shoving and threatening the woman is a co-founder of Good Good, who made the ad, tells me one thing–they’re all misogynist pigs who think violence against women is absolutely legitimate and okay and funny. (After all, same co-creator posted a selfie with the creature from the spray-tan lagoon, so yeah, I’m sure he respects women) Anyway, Callaway, the golf accessory company they made the video for? Their stock tanked and they’re buying it back! Sounds like some market manipulation to me, and yes, evil. “Yes, this will make everyone mad and people will start dumping their stock and the pigs we really market to will appreciate it, think it’s funny, and maybe will even use their drivers on their wives! And we won’t lose sales and we get a lot of stock back! Win! Win!”

Maybe I’m cynical, but this is the world we live in. I do think this was a ploy to manipulate their stock. But I don’t think the outrage is going to go away. Ask Target how that went for them. And yes, that is the worst reason I could think of for posting that ad; but the reality is probably even worse to the point I can’t imagine it…and I don’t mind that failure of imagination.

Heavy sigh.

I also managed some work on the book yesterday–not any actual writing-writing, but background work and realizing I need to do some of the work I should have done before I started writing the book, but I also wanted to get started to get me going on it. I need to focus, though…but I do think I’m getting better about things like that. Baby steps.

Oh! I sent out another newsletter yesterday! You can read it here, if you like.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will check in with you again tomorrow for my last day in the office for the week!

Former collegiate wrestler turned onlyfans model Wrestle Chris.

Fever

Tuesday, and day two of my return to the spice mines. I was a bit groggy yesterday, and felt a bit tired in my legs for some reason, but it wasn’t anything, really. And I certainly had the energy to walk around the office pretty briskly while at work. We were busy in the morning–it’s been awhile–but it slowed down in the afternoon so I could get caught up on paperwork and so forth. We also had a marvelous thunderstorm system move through yesterday afternoon; on my way home it was still sprinkling, and it was wonderfully cool. I went to the post office and made a small grocery run and was home before six, which was also nice. Once I was home, of course, I had to feed Sparky and give him some attention before we put on the new episode of Furious (so damned good), followed by an episode of Outer Banks (so damned silly but strangely entertaining; so what if it doesn’t make sense?) before going to bed for the evening, where I slept very well. I feel pretty good this morning, too—if hungry; this morning’s coffee cake slice did not do the trick this morning; I should have eaten something last night but just didn’t feel up to messing around in the kitchen. Tonight I’ll bake potatoes, I think; I have some mushrooms I need to sauté in butter, too; Kerrygold works marvelously for this, by the way.

Sorry/not sorry about the cattle ranchers and farmers going bankrupt. Were all those liberal tears worth it? You voted for this not once but three times (excuse me, #not all ranchers). You wanted ICE, you wanted no regulations, you wanted a whites’ only country, and you kept what? Like four trans girls from competing in sports? You voted for all of this, you pathetic beta cuck bitches, and look! Here you are with your hands out for socialism. That’s practically communism! (Actually, the government controlling the means of production and market IS communism–so all that foul beef, that may or not be wild horse meat–for the record, you fucking idiots. But hey, wasn’t it fun calling Kamala Harris a whore who slept her way to the top? Is losing your cattle and your land worth screaming “Lock her up” about Hilary Rodham Clinton? You tell my community we were freaks and pedophiles and don’t deserve rights? Why the fuck would I give a shit about bailing your homophobic racists asses out with MY tax dollars. Like the student loan situation–didn’t you all oppose that? Aren’t you concerned about the national debt anymore? You scream at the top of your lungs about it whenever there’s a Democrat in the White House; why so silent when your votes are responsible now for it being so incredibly astronomically raised, higher than ever in history? Oh, no, you’ve got your palms up begging for relief from the taxpayers you gladly mock and vote against all the time? Like student loans, why should the taxpayers be on the hook for your poor choices? You don’t even have the balls to NAME him, like the submissive mongrels you are. No, you blame the government–you can’t even say anything critical of him personally. You’re fucking afraid of a pedophile.

Miss me with your low-T whining, you little bitches. Some MEN you are. Your ancestors would be ashamed and embarrassed, you entitled shits.

This was all in Project 2025, by the way. Everything that has happened since he was sworn in last year is straight out of Project 2025; you know, the thing they all lied to you about so you wouldn’t read it…but you were too busy “owning the libs.” Good job. Now someone else is going to own your land and you’ll be homeless and on the dole. Come on guys! Aren’t you the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps real men who don’t need anyone” types? Seriously, go fuck yourselves now and forever.

I was also highly amused to see that the Tate Brothers had to admit to a court that they are broke, they don’t own any of the properties or cars or jewelry they paraded around on-line to give unfuckable young men something to cling to since the world is “so unfair to them!” Whatever happened to “nobody ever said life was fair?” Has anyone checked on the incels today? What with Spider-man whomping on Jake Lang1 this weekend, the collapse of the Tate Brothers…can the collapse of the bros and the so-called man-o-sphere (cuck-o-sphere is more accurate) be far behind?

We started watching Lanterns this weekend, too, and I’m enjoying it. I do like both Kyle Chandler and Aaron Pierre (my God that man is beautiful), and I’ve always liked Green Lantern (I pretend that execrable film with Ryan Reynolds never happened). The show has a kind of slow burn feel to it, and I like that a lot.

I was pleased to see that Nicholas Hoult has bowed out of the TERF Queen’s tv show because of “scheduling conflicts”…I saw someone on-line said, “Yeah, the scheduling conflict was a phone call from an angry James Gunn asking him, why are you buttfucking my Superman sequel?” I, for one, was perfectly willing to never see anything he’s in again–I’ve been a big fan since Warm Bodies–but…he’s still kind of tarnished with homophobic slime, now. I don’t think I’ll ever be as big a fan of his again. His replacement can’t act anyway and mostly looks constipated–so no loss not watching him in anything again…which I’d pretty much decided after Pompeii already. Pompeii was exponentially worse than all of the Twilight movies combined. And I fucking despise Twilight with the white hot passion of a dozen burning suns.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am going straight home from work tonight, no stops, and hope to get the kitchen under control. I’ll be back tomorrow, of course. See you then!

I took this picture from the upper balcony at the Times-Picayune office on St. Charles; Paul and I were there for their Friday night before Mardi Gras parade party. I just love how it turned out.
  1. And why is someone with an ankle monitor able to travel so freely between states? Who is bankrolling him? Inquiring minds want to know. ↩︎

Love Song

Saturday morning and I have really lost the plot on what day it is. I kept thinking it was Saturday all day yesterday, which was annoying. And as much as I was wanting to have another day off yesterday (planning on working more today and tomorrow), I actually started writing my next chapter of the WIP, and even worked some on my newsletter drafts, which is becoming more and more fun the more I do of them. Obviously, we didn’t go see the movie because I was writing and had gotten settled into that “in my sweats and I’m in my chair working on my laptop” mode, and so I thought it was better to go ahead and do what work I could while doing my chores. I wound up writing about 1500 words on the new chapter, which was a pleasant and unexpected surprise. Whether they are any good or not is another story, but I am taking the win. I also stayed up later than usual, doing the laundry, and Sparky tried to get me up early again but settled in for cuddles when I didn’t get up.

I watched some more documentaries about the Pacific War again yesterday, which is technically research for the book–since my main character served in the South Pacific during the war. It also occurred to me yesterday that I should watch South Pacific again–I watched it when I was a kid, and never revisited, but thought it might be interesting from a sociological and research point of view; how did they depict sailors with no access to women? It’s been so long I don’t remember much of the movie, or the book either for that matter (Tales of the South Pacific was my entry point for James A. Michener’s work) so one of these weekend mornings when I don’t have much else to do along the lines of reading or chores I could put it on. I liked musicals a lot when I was a kid–I remember seeing The Sound of Music and Camelot on the big screen–but kind of got away from them as a teenager and the post-teen years…the fact that not many were made might have had a lot to do with it. Anyway, it couldn’t hurt, right? And if I can consider something as a kind of sideways research, it doesn’t feel like I’m just wasting my time…see, what you saw right there is an anxiety coping mechanism: I’d feel guilty and anxious for not being productive, so I needed a rationale for it that made sense to my brain.

And while we didn’t go see the movie yesterday after all–and probably won’t this weekend either–we are going to Costco tomorrow.

I watched more of The Burbs yesterday, and when Paul came down from his work-at-home duties, we caught up on both The Shards and Reacher. This most recent episode of The Shards was probably one of the best ones so far, but it’s still Ryan Murphy so there’s kind of a glitzy veneer over it all and character motivations don’t seem to be important (they never are to Murphy)…and almost all of the characters are unlikable, because I at least never feel any sympathy for any of them–and kind of enjoy their failures…I am not sure that’s the primary intent here, but that’s my reaction to it. It’s addicting, though, like so many things are that are nothing more than empty calories, like cotton candy or soda.

I was actually kind of glad we didn’t go to the movie yesterday because around the time we would have left, some amazing thunderstorms rolled into the metro area. The band of bad weather lasted for about six or seven hours, too–with street flooding uptown and there was also HAIL uptown, big chunks of ice hurtling down from the sky. We didn’t have any here at the Lost Apartment, thank the Lord, and it sure would have sucked to bring Costco home during a thunderstorm. Yikes.

Some rather interesting news broke yesterday regarding the Karmelo Anthony case, and a better picture of what happened that day is starting to emerge. When I first heard the news, my first thought was “self-defense” and my second was “they are going to roast and railroad this kid” and I was right about that, too. (Just like when Nolan Wells went missing and my reaction was “he’s dead and those white kids did something, they may not have killed him but they certainly didn’t act like innocent people who didn’t know anything” and as more facts come out…)

Because inevitably it will always turn out to be some kind of bullshit white shenanigans. And that kid Karmelo Anthony killed sounds to me like he was already well on his way to becoming a full-fledged sociopath. We need to stop treating white kids with kid gloves. Hell, we need to stop centering white people, period.

And on that somber note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in on you again tomorrow morning, okay? Til then!

I’ve never understood the “must shave body and be smooth at all times” mentality. Body hair can be sexy, too—and very masculine.

Promise to Try

It’s my birthday, and I made the enormous mistake of giving Sparky a new catnip toy this morning and now he’s high as a kite and zooming around the apartment, with the occasional launch of a crazed kitty at me in full play-attack mode. Needless to say, I’m regretting giving him that toy!

And just like that, I qualify for senior discounts. Funny, I don’t feel any older this morning. I’ve never been a big birthday person, for any number of reasons (primarily because outside of my parents, no one else ever cared much about it, which I will unpack at some point in the newsletter), and the older I get the less fuss I want made of it. I really prefer to just spend the day hanging out at home with Sparky and Paul, very low-key. I’ll watch some shit on television, and do some reading; maybe even take some notes on something, anything, that I am working on currently. But no pressure at all, and that’s the lovely thing. A day of ignoring the world and everything else going on and just having some peaceful, relaxing down time. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? It does, indeed. The house is messy, so I may slowly and gradually do things, too, but the primary goal for the day is to stay off-line as much as possible and just have a lovely quiet day at home.

Sparky also let me sleep late this morning, for which I am grateful, and even slept in the bed with me after checking on me at the usual time I get up. The no-alarm confused him, I think–hey you’re supposed to get up to the loud noise–which is why he curled up in the crook of my legs and went to sleep.Yesterday was fine. It was a relatively easy and mellow day at the office, and I ran some errands when I got off work. Paul got home while I was catching up on the news, and we watched another episode of Furious, which took another turn last night I wasn’t expecting. We’re caught up now, and have to wait for the next episodes to air, so we can catch up on The Shards and Reacher in the meantime. There’s also a couple of movies streaming that I want to see–Obsession and The Devil Wears Prada 2. And the final season of Outer Banks dropping today on Netflix like another birthday present for me. I also want to read more today, and finish the birthday newsletter I started…but there’s no rush. It’s about getting older and not being ashamed or afraid of the word old. I wouldn’t, for example, want to be younger now than I am, and frankly, now that my health is pretty far along on its way to 100%, I actually feel pretty good most of the time other than the occasional ache or pain; and you know, I was often sore when I was younger because I worked out.

And yes, we are definitely seeing the new Spider-Man tomorrow.

I also got caught up on the new season of Real Housewives Ultimate Girls’ Trip, and I have to say I really am enjoying seeing the other women bonding over not liking Vicki. Them’s my girls!

So, I am going to get another cup of coffee and have some breakfast. There’s a load of laundry I want to do, and the dishes need to be done, and some minor straightening up I also need to get done and handled, and get cleaned up as well. Sparky has calmed down now enough for me to safely navigate the apartment without getting attacked, so it’s also safe out there.

Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning!

A very young Michael Biehn posing as St. Sebastian

Express Yourself

Wednesday, Wednesday, my last day of work this week! And yes, it’s my Birthday Eve. The last day of being sixty-four. Am I having heavy thoughts about being old and officially a senior citizen? Fuck no. I’m happy I made it this far–the odds were not in my favor. I turned twenty-one the year the New York Slimes first reported the appearance of a strange illness that only seemed to affect gay men (later, Haitians and injection drug users were added to the list), and when I came all the way out eight years later, I just figured I was going to eventually get infected and die. It never happened–I really have lived a charmed life–and there were any other number of close calls with death throughout my life; so many, in fact, that sometimes I forget them all.

That’s a rather somber start, isn’t it?

I slept very well last night, which was marvelous, even if I didn’t want to get up and feel a bit groggy this morning. Yesterday was a nice day at work–not terribly busy and thus was able to keep up on things. I was able to come straight home from work–tonight I have to go pick up the mail and do a very minor grocery run–and spent some nice time with Sparky sleeping in my lap. Paul went out to dinner with a friend, so I was home alone with the kitty for most of the evening. I watched another episode of The Burbs, which I am loving, and did some chores before going to bed relatively early.

College football is a mere couple of weeks away now; LSU opens with Clemson in Baton Rouge over Labor Day weekend, and my Saturdays will officially become dedicated to college football again. Thge preseason polls are out; LSU is ranked 11th in one and 13th in the other. Coming off a tragic 7-6 season that finished off Brian Kelly1‘s time in Baton Rouge (I don’t mind the season since it rid of us of him), that’s kind of surprising. I know everyone is expecting magic this first season with Lane Kiffin as coach, but we should really temper our excitement some. The schedule is brutal, and includes games at two places that want Coach Kiffin burned in effigy if not reality; Tennessee and Mississippi. These polls are not quite as bad as last year, though, which had LSU in the top five after beating Clemson in the opener, which was insane. No one knew whether either team was any good at the time, and Clemson has definitely not been on brand for quite some time now. Polls mean nothing, in football as in politics, and all that matters is what happens on the field on Saturdays. Obviously, I’d love to see LSU make a run for the natty, but it’s also not the end of the world if we’re not there yet.

Is it wrong to be looking forward to the long weekend so much? I don’t know that I’ll do a whole lot on my birthday tomorrow; I usually take the day off from anything approximating actual work–I’ll do chores and read for a bit, of course–but for the most part, I plan on being bored as fuck tomorrow. I think we’re going to Costco this weekend, and we’re planning on seeing Spider-Man. Not a lot of plans for a four day weekend, right? I do think tomorrow I will stay off-line most of the day. I have a newsletter to get out and a blog entry to write, and once that’s taken care of, I am walking away from the computer. Sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I’ll see you here again tomorrow morning. See you then!

The Sipsey River bottoms on my uncle’s farm. The river was high that spring.
  1. Hey, I was at least willing to give him a chance. He wound up ending worse than he started. ↩︎

Cherish

Monday and back to the office with me today. Yesterday was kind of nice, to be honest. I started clearing out old drafts of posts here; moving them over to the newsletter because they are all longer than I am willing to do here on the blog. It was kind of fun going back to see the ideas I had for longer posts–including ones talking about writing Timothy and A Streetcar Named Murder, which I should really finish and get posted–assuming, of course, that people who get the newsletter are interested in that sort of thing.

Yesterday was kind of nice. I had a short something to write, so I took a few moments and gathered some thoughts and dashed out a rough draft to send to them to see if I was on the right track…apparently I was because they loved it and I don’t have to worry about it anymore. I guess I can go ahead and cross that off my list.

I also spent some time cleaning up and organizing computer files–long overdue, and very time-consuming, but it’s a very good start for now. I now have a nice file for New Orleans Nemesis and even thicker files on works currently in progress. It’s kind of fun, if a little bit daunting, to see how much stuff I need to get done, but I am also getting into the swing of my life again. I feel much better, am not tired all the time anymore, and while there are definitely times when my mind needs to just rest, those moments are becoming fewer and further between. The house didn’t need a lot of chores done, either, so I was able to sit in my chair, watch documentaries on history (some excellent ones about World War II, and some Spanish history through the kings and queens) while I cleaned up my back-up hard drive and organized computer files. The next chapter of the book in progress is forming in my head, and so this week while I wait for those thoughts to coalesce, this week is going to be about clearing up continuity in the four current chapters. I also have to make sure my tenses are correct; I am not used to writing in the present tense, and when my character thinks about the past…that can be in past tense but do I switch back every time I need to? The real nuts and bolts of being a writer here, folks.

I feel pretty good this morning; I slept really well and thus feel rested this morning. I only have to go in three days this week because the birthday is Thursday and why work on Friday if I am taking Thursday off? Doesn’t make sense to me, so I took them both off. We’re also in a heat advisory still, but nothing really new there. I am going to make some groceries on the way home tonight and have some things that need to be done at the office today in addition to seeing my clients. But I am not doing anything on Thursday, the big day itself; that will be my day to just stay home and do not a goddamned thing besides read and watch television. That will be lovely, and I think I will probably stay off-line all day, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again in the morning. See you then!

The Sipsey River. Alabama is really beautiful.