Category: social media

White Heat

Pay my bills, pay my telephone bills, pay my bi-ills….

There’s always a song cue in my life; and every time Pay the Bills Wednesday rolls around, I always hear “Bills, Bills, Bills” by Destiny’s Child in my head, even though the song is about a leech boyfriend, not losing a lot of your paycheck to bills…but that big Entergy bill is worth every penny in the summer. I have to say air conditioning is a gift from heaven that we should not turn out backs on, or scoff at. Now that the air is working again in my car, it’s made a huge difference. I wasn’t sweaty and crabby when I got home from work yesterday; I felt good. Maybe it was also because I remembered the injection was due on Monday (I forgot Monday with all the car stuff), and did it yesterday morning? I don’t know, I don’t need to know why I feel so much better, but all of these things could easily be related. Feeling how the car a/c works now has me wondering how long the a/c wasn’t functioning properly? It took that truly nasty heat dome thing to make me finally realize something was wrong with it.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day. I only added 300 words last night to the book, but that’s because I know the rest of the chapter is going to be hard. (This is the part when I’m on deadline when I just type finish this scene later, which always makes me want to cry to the heavens when the deadline is soon and I get to that in the revision…I know I am not the only person who does this, either.) But I do feel like the better I am feeling, the easier the writing is going to be? Does that make sense?

Are all these heterosexual hockey romance shows doing as well as Heated Rivalry did? I know they aren’t a cultural phenomenon the way the queer hockey show and I literally have seen no conversations about any of them, anywhere. So typically Hollywood to get the wrong message, isn’t it? “People must have watched for the hockey! IMAGINE if the romances were STRAIGHT? We’ll be printing money!” Yeah, no, that’s not the right lesson….but at least when those shows fail, we won’t get blamed for them; which may make them think even deeper about Heated Rivalry’s virality, but I doubt it. They’ll just think it was a fluke, or it was the cast. Which is good for the cast, of course, but not so much those of us who want to see same-sex relationships. But these are the people who saw the huge success of Barbie and thought the takeaway was “more toy movies!” No, it meant you finally gave women a reason to go to the movies and they turned up in droves…as well as anyone else who wanted to see a good film with a feminist message critiquing modern society and culture.

It’s astonishing how bad Hollywood can be at originality and creativity. Billy Wilder would be making pictures for television now if he were in his prime currently because his movies wouldn’t be seen as bankable.

Can I just say that Abdul el-Sayed is hot, hot, hot? Then again, he’s also very smart and quick on his feet, which is even more hot, in my opinion. Interesting, though how the centrist battle–cry of vote blue no matter who only applies, apparently, to white straight men. These are the same kind of Democrats who tried to water down the New Deal and did water down the Affordable Care Act…even if we do take congress back this fall from the Unwashed Flat Ass Party doesn’t mean they’ll accomplish anything because, well, Fetterman and other Democrats like him. There’s always at least one Trump sympathizer running for the Senate to sabotage any and everything and to completely back him (looking at you, racist Vindman with the skank wife in Florida), because we will always have the Sinema and Manchin sell-outs (I really hope the rest of her life is even more miserable than she deserves, and she should never go out in public without being heckled; same with Manchin. I hate her, more, though, not because she’s a woman because she’s an out bisexual who stabbed her own community in the back repeatedly to stand with McConnell and Trump like the syphilitic quisling skank1 she is.)

Furious is really good, y’all. It goes far beyond the usual “FBI agent starts tracking serial killer” trope, by getting more deeply into who Alice Black is as a character, why she left the police, and why she is the way that she is–cold, driven, thoroughly professional without empathy, which can be hard to watch when she’s interrogating a teenager who witnessed her father’s murder–but we know why she’s the way she is…she is working her way through PTSD from an abusive relationship, and it’s an extraordinary performance by the always underrated Emmy Rossum. And given the motivations of the killer, I’m not really sure she qualifies as a serial killer–because, yes, the bodies are piling up, but their connection is through her having been trafficked as a child…so yes, she is a very clever and vicious killer, but at the same time she is a victim and her tormentors are horrible people who would never see justice for what they did…another stinging indictment of our society and culture, really.

Injustice for one is injustice for all. I was taught that in grade school. I guess my public education was “woke,” even as it indoctrinated us all in white supremacy and American Exceptionalism.

I am very sorry to add Nicholas Hoult, whom I’ve enjoyed watching since Warm Bodies, to the “dead-to-me-will-never-watch-again” fake queer ally list. Hope your HBO check from the Chatelaine of Castle Hate is worth it. *Cough* Sydney Sweeney *cough*. This is why it is impossible for queer people to ever completely trust straight people–they will always choose their wallets over any “alliance” with a marginalized group. A shame, because I loved Superman, but …no views, clicks, or money from me going forward. The thing these people forget is that we never do. We also never forgive. Even an apology–which won’t be coming, believe you me–and withdrawal from the hate project won’t suffice for me.

You see, I believe people when they tell me who they are. Bye bye, Felicia! You’re not an ally if you’re only one when it doesn’t affect your bottom line. Thanks but no thanks.

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

I’ve had a crush on gorgeous Latino hunk/actor/model William Levy since he was on Dancing with the Stars…can you blame me?
  1. Bisexual erasure is bad enough without skanks like her making them all look bad. ↩︎

True Blue

Monday morning after a car-free (yes, not a typo) weekend, and I have to take a Lyft to work this morning. Not a big deal, really; just a matter of timing. I left my work badge in the car when I dropped it off–it never occurred to me to take it, because I didn’t think they’d keep the car all weekend, either. Not a big deal. The big deal will be trying to figure out when I can go pick the car up once it’s finished as I have clients scattered throughout the day, and picking the car up will require another ride. Sigh. But at least I’ll have the car back and I can make some groceries on the eay

I also sent out a new newsletter yesterday, which you can read here. It’s about The Vampire Lestat, which we finished and thoroughly enjoyed, and really, Sam Reid is everything. It felt good to get that sent out, and I also was able to work on the book some yesterday, too. I also read some more of the book I am reading, which I am enjoying and savoring, and probably reading too slow because the language and voice are so hypnotic. I also upgraded the operating systems of both my laptop and desktop; who knew these upgades would, for once, actually be convenient? I was never able to access the back-up hard drive from the laptop, but now I can! Which means I can work on cleaning up my files while in my easy chair and watching television, whenever my mind doesn’t want to work too hard, I can do that. Needless to say, this is epic. (It may not even be that big of a deal, and I may have just not known how to do it before, but now it’s super-easy.)

We lost Frank Perez over the weekend, which is a real loss for the New Orleans queer community. Frank was dedicated to the history of queer New Orleans, and a big part of the scene here. I’ve read several of his histories and loved them all. He was also the driving force behind the LBGTQ+ historical archive in the Quarter, and his walking tours were also popular. We’ll miss you, Frank. I hate that we keep losing literary legends in this town…buy his books, please.

So, last night we started watching The Shards. I remember when the book came out, and it just seemed too meta…the author of Less Than Zero writes another book in the same setting, only this time it’s got the author writing a book about his friends while they are dealing with a serial killer situation. It’s a Ryan Murphy show (of course–stay away from Connor Storrie, Murphy!) so it’s glitzy and gorgeous, and there’s even nepo stunt casting (Cindy Crawford’s daughter! Richard Gere’s son! Cindy and Richard used to be married! Meta meta meta). The soundtrack was killer, of course, and hilariously, the standout set from the film Less Than Zero–the wall of televisions–appears in episode 2. It’s interesting enough, the acting is so-so, but we’ll keep watching, primarily because the main character is either bi or gay, but the men part is very deeply closeted. There’s also some poignance with that, too, but I can never get past how much the actor in the lead looks like Topher Grace, so I keep thinking Eric Forman with money.

I may order the book. I don’t know. I hated Less Than Zero, but loved The Rules of Attraction, and those are the only Ellis novels I’ve read. I can only take so much of the boredom and excesses of rich kids–I knew too many rich, spoiled brats in college who loved nothing so much as leaving behind messes for other people to clean up. (I suppose Ellis has been compared/contrasted to Fitzgerald?)

I did see some posts over the weekend talking about “straight actors who played gay early in their careers”, and they mentioned Dermot Mulroney…who I’d forgotten was in it; he was one of the first in the movie to die from the strange new disease. As heartbreaking as that movie is, it’s my favorite movie about the HIV/AIDS crisis. I started thinking about it more, and remembered how much better it was than Philadelphia (which I hated)…and thought, maybe I should rewatch them both and see if I still feel the same way about both? Needless to say, you can’t stream Longtime Companion anywhere, even to rent, but of course Philadelphia is available. Grrr.1

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Monday, and I hope it’s not as wacky and turned around as mine is turning out to be!

  1. Has anyone done a definitive critical analysis of HIV/AIDS books and movies? I’d love to read that. ↩︎

Love Makes the World Go Round

Sunday already? #madness. I am up early this morning after a good night’s sleep, and I feel pretty good. Yesterday wound up being one of those days where I didn’t do much of anything, and I am not one bit sorry about it, so there, LOL. I am not going to allow myself that luxury today, of course, and at least I should be able to get some reading and cleaning done. Or not. I had the television on, but don’t really remember a whole lot of yesterday and that’s also really fine. My time is my own, although I have some things starting to percolate. Another shared anthology is in the works (with Art Taylor and Donna Andrews for Jeffrey Marks’ Crippen & Landru Press), I have a short essay due by the end of the month, and of course, there’s always the book, the newsletter, and some short stories I want to write for upcoming submissions calls. I am trying to get back into the riding saddle again, but I have to be better about my time management, too. That’s the problem with a lot of free time; you can also wind up wasting time because you think you have plenty of it.

And you never do.

It was a bit gloomy when I got up this morning, but the sky has seemingly cleared. We may get some rain this afternoon, which would be nice and cooling. The temperatures have dropped to the low nineties/high eighties, which is more normal for summer in New Orleans, but I have no doubt we’ll get more blast-furnace heat by the end of the month; Labor Day weekend is always insanely hot and humid (which always made Southern Decadence more fun). But the summer is nearing its end (we won’t have cooler weather until October, but the humidity lessens some after Labor Day. A quick perusal of the weather channel and there is a disturbance out in the Atlantic, but no concerns for the moment. With my luck, it’ll probably come here and I’ll have to evacuate for my birthday. (It was my birthday the weekend before Katrina.) No sense borrowing trouble, as my mother used to say–which was funny, given she had generalized anxiety disorder and thus worried about everything,

Everything she could control, at any rate.

It’s kind of nice having my own dialed back to something manageable, seriously.

I am feeling both lazy and productive at the same time this morning. I need to eat something and get some more coffee, for one thing. I’ve got my journal right here with me, and I keep pausing to take notes. I also have The Last House on Needless Street here with me that I can dip into every once in a while, along with my reread of Celebrity. I have two newsletters I can get finished and out soon, and there are also a couple of others I am still working on. There’s always something for me to write, isn’t there? But one thing I definitely want to do this morning is organize the submission calls that I want to try to write something for as well–organizing is something I always enjoy, and it helps when you can look at everything in one single solitary place. I have finally accepted that my once sharp memory is now a thing of the past, and frequently am amazed at what I have forgotten.

I was thinking about this while reading another chapter of Needless Street, and about how wrong so many of my memories of Alabama have so often proven to be…this bothered me quite a bit, since I’ve visited the home county more times in the last four years than I have in the last forty. It bugged me mostly because I have written fiction set there in a fictionalized version based on memory, and if the memories are incorrect…(the reason is it–the book– reminds me of something similar I have been working on for the last decade or so; my own creepy house down the street in a small town and horrors from the past. This morning, the anvil dropped on my head. Fictional version are the keywords here; it’s based on, not an actual representation of the county. I swear to God, I wish I weren’t so literal and stubborn and oblivious, you know? Sometimes I wonder if I’d have been better off were I not that way; look at the difference dialing back the anxiety has made. Things to think about and consider, at any rate.

So Miss North Carolina was dethroned this week, so naturally the bitch tried to make it about religious persecution, so she could go the Riley Gaines route in conservative media…and then the pageant released the racist posts where she freely threw around the n word. Sit your racist ass down, skank, and have a folding chair. The “asshole whiner to conservative darling” grift is an entire thing, and always so sadly predictable. Your faith made you a racist piece of shit, did it? Have fun explaining that to your God before he sends you to hell, bitch. And how awesome is it that the title now passes on to a Black woman? Chef’s kiss, no notes–although to be honest, I wasn’t aware that beauty pageants, er scholarship contests, were still a thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Sunday, y’all. I’ll be back in the morning.

I cannot believe I’ve never written a Scotty with a chase scene across balconies in the Quarter.

Borderline

Friday morning and here we go.

You will be pleased to know that I am yet again certified for CPR, for the thirty-first time or so. This is more of an intense version–the clinic thing–and some things have changed, so I am glad I had to do it again this year. I’ve never had to use it–we have an emergency response team that responds to a code call–and some of the people in my department are on that team (I’ve seen them save multiple lives over the years) but it’s nice to know I can help if necessary.

I am about to get a second cup of coffee and start getting ready to take the car to the body shop. I’ll just grab a Lyft home. I have an on-line meeting at nine, and plenty of work to keep my busy this work at home Friday. It’s also supposed to rain this afternoon, and it’s under eighty degrees this morning–under eighty in New Orleans in August? Madness. I wasn’t tired after work yesterday, but didn’t do a whole lot when I got home other than pick up some things and catch up on the news. (Always a pleasure to do…) We did watch the season finale of The Vampire Lestat, which was different from the ending of the book but definitely ended on a cliff-hanger, which was an interesting choice. I also slept really well again, which was lovely. I am hoping for a good weekend again, but don’t really have any plans for the weekend other than reading, writing, some errands, and cleaning. I did finish reading Love in the Afternoon and Evening (more on that later), and hope to make some progress on The Last House on Needless Street as well.

Okay, the car has been dropped off at the body shop I use on the Earhart1, and I was sweating in buckets by the time the Lyft came–which was deliciously cold when I climbed into the back seat. Ah, this is what it’s supposed to feel like inside a car in the summer. The way New Orleanians forget every year how hot it gets in the summer needs to be studied–along with the comment “I don’t remember it getting this hot before” which is part of that protective amnesia I suppose. I said that on social media to a friend–who’d had dinner with someone earlier in the week who’d said the same thing. We do tend to talk about the weather here a lot, even if it’s just “whew, shore is hot this mornin’/afternoon/evenin’.” (Which is why Elmore Leonard’s writing advice to never start with the weather doesn’t work here. It affects everything.)

But “how to write” manuals are merely authors (or professors) telling others who are interested in writing and getting better. Nothing is tried or true in writing; one of the reason I turn off the spell/grammar check in word is because sometimes I want to use a sentence that may not be grammatically correct–and don’t even get me started on what that shit does to a stream-of-consciousness run-on sentence inside a character’s head. We don’t think in grammatically correct sentences and paragraphs; we also don’t speak that way. I certainly don’t, but that’s also me extrapolating my experience to everyone’s experience, which is a fallacy–yet something everyone does. A few years ago I read something and knit my brows together, thinking no gay would ever–and had to stop and remind myself that actually, some probably would. Our community, after all, is no freer from quislings than any other marginalized group. Sad, but a fact. That’s the mote in our collective eyes; the default that our own experience is the default and everyone thinks like we do….like how racists assume every other white person is also a bigot. (I’ve shocked a few, which is fun.)

And on that note, I am going to make some breakfast and get ready for my meeting. Have a lovely and great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

The Rhode Island mansion that was a stand-in for Collinwood on Dark Shadows.
  1. I also asked for estimates for the damage acquired from other New Orleans drivers while parked. Thanks again, trash! ↩︎

Burning Up

Thursday morning and the last day in the office for me this week. But I slept amazingly well last night, and feel rested and refreshed this morning. Today is going to be hectic–I have back to back clients all morning, and then this afternoon I have to renew my CPR license, which will take the rest of the day. Heavy heaving sigh. I do think, though, that I can come straight home tonight and chill. That would be lovely, and I can get caught up on chores that I won’t have to do over the weekend. We can also finish The Vampire Lestat, which we are both loving, and some other new shows/seasons have dropped as well that I need to explore. I also want to finish reading my books this weekend. I read some more of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, which I am really enjoying (thanks again, Kristopher, for the recommendation), and also want to get more into the new fiction read as well as the reread.

Yesterday was a bit rough. I didn’t sleep well Tuesday night (I may have forgotten to take my night time pills), and so was either over-caffeinated or tired most of the day at work. It was just busy enough to keep me on my toes, but not so busy I was miserable. Oddly enough, I did catch a second wind later in the afternoon–which was a relief, as I had a dinner date–and came home and changed before heading uptown to Le Petit Grocery for dinner, which was superb. (I even allowed myself a dirty martini, but just one.) The company was even more superb, as it always is–I really do have the most amazing friends. I actually didn’t feel tired at dinner, and yes, of course I got tired when I got home, but…I slept amazing last night and feel fantastic this morning.\

Yesterday was a bit on the insane side, at least in the world of social media and author organizations. I only currently belong to ITW (no membership fee) and Sisters in Crime. (Sisters always has and always will have a special place in my heart because they’ve all been so great and supportive of me, personally and professionally.) I’ve not belonged to HWA in a long time, but not out of any sense of oh they are so awful or anything like that; I chaired World Horror Con for them here in New Orleans in whatever year that was (I want to say 2014, but it may have been 2015; who can keep track anymore?), which I actually enjoyed doing, working mostly with Rocky Wood and Lisa Morton–and I became very fond of them both. When I saw the first rumbles about a controversy involving their newsletter yesterday on-line, my first thought was literally Thank God I am not on any boards anymore and the second was oh no poor Lisa (before remembering she isn’t president anymore) and finally to I am SO glad I am not on any writer’s organization boards anymore. As for the op-ed, I know the person who wrote it, and of course, someone sent me a link so I could read it. It was…badly written and poorly argued. I saw her claim that the piece was theoretically about bullying, to which my response was clearly, straight white lady, you’ve never been bullied. No, dear, your piece was about bullying authors for using generative-AI–you know, the thing that stole my work for training purposes? No, bitch, I am never using any generative-AI in any way with my work because it is my work and they STOLE from me and almost every published author in this country. As for those writers who do use generative A.I.? I won’t bully you but I also will not read you. I lost interest in the controversy when it became apparent a lot of people were jumping on the bandwagon to slam HWA, which I wasn’t interested in. I don’t publicly bash writers’ orgs because I have sat on their boards before and I know all the concomitant difficulties–as well as battles–that happen behind the scenes. Whether I agree with the decisions they make is a different story, but I try not to critique because I also know I don’t have the whole story. HWA reacted to the backlash very quickly, removed the person from their board, and issued an apology. The bashing still went on, and yes, it can be frustrating when you’re on the outside, but I at least don’t need to know anything more, and I am not a member of HWA. I prefer to believe that everyone behind the scenes is doing the best they can at crisis management, and to give the benefit of the doubt.

But, for future reference, straight white people? Don’t use the word “gatekeepers” so blithely and freely. It’s a term for the exclusion of non-straight not-white people, and the predictable process those of us they chose to publish wind up going through–and it’s incredibly offensive to be accused of that simply because I don’t want to use, or read anything by, generative-AI. Fuck you for that cultural appropriation now and forever, even if it was unintentional, it was still incredibly offensive. Use your generative-AI if you want. But you don’t get to tell me how I can or should feel about it, unless you’re paying the rent. If not, shut the fuck up and take a folding chair.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely day, Constant Reader; I’ll be back tomorrow after I drop the car off.

L. A. Knight from WWE

Love Without Words

Saturday, August 1, and coniglio! Coniglio!

Let’s see if that works; it did for Trixie Belden in The Mystery of the Emeralds.

It’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. Sparky got me up before seven this morning–His Majesty was HUNGRY–and I decided to get up and feed him. Once I was out of the bed, I decided to get cleaned up and get going on my day. Yesterday sucked–I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say the a/c in my car still isn’t working and I need to take it to another place first because some “body work” needs to be done, and it really doesn’t sound cheap–but I am shaking it off today. I’ve never had to spend much money on this car since buying it and it’s been about ten years. So, let it go, I can’t do anything about it until Monday, anyway, and why let that spoil my weekend when I have free time, I still feel good, and tomorrow we’re going to go see the new Spider-Man movie. So, lots to look forward to, and today I am going to try to get some stuff done around here. I need to order groceries for delivery (too hot to drive there and back), and I need to get the house back under control again. It’s not that bad, but the last couple of days I’ve let things slide a bit. I did read some of my book yesterday, and it’s really fantastic. We caught this week’s Sugar, and I think tonight we’ll dive into The Vampire Lestat.

I also have those Emily Wilson translations to dip into, as well. And a newsletter to get out, but them not going out consistently has been an issue from the first, and I do suspect the only person I am actually disappointing with any of this is me, you know? But they are fun to write, and while I do forget things I wanted to say in them from time to time, and I don’t proof them as thoroughly as I should before they go out, but I am also not going to get anxious or stressed about them. Paul is going to work with his trainer today and then is going to ride the bike at the gym, so I should have the entire afternoon to myself for downtime, reading and writing and more cleaning. Why is there always more cleaning to do? Heavy heaving sigh. I did decide to treat myself to a long birthday weekend this month, so I have my birthday and the Friday after to accept that I am officially elderly. It doesn’t bother me (much); it’s more shocking to me that I made it this far, with so much stacked against me. Making it to 65 as a gay man in this country was no small accomplishment, but honestly? Pure damn luck. I made it through the HIV pandemic without getting infected–miracle of miracles, especially when it seemed so damned unlikely any of us would make it through with anything other than PTSD and guilt. (The guilt has always been tough for me to deal with–why me? Why did so many wonderful and talented and brilliant people die? And yes, I’ve been thinking about this since the circus the other day with Dr. Fauci, whose true crime to conservatives is that he helped stop gay men from dying.)

Maybe I do see homophobia everywhere, but you know what? That’s what it almost always is–enough times that it’s not a surprise when that does turn out to be the case.

It also pleases me to no end to see Tom Holland and Zendaya starring in the two biggest movies of the summer. I’ve always liked her, and of course, his lip-sync to Rihanna made me a life long fan of our short king. He is also one of the rare examples of a child star who grew up into a successful and always working adult actor/star.

I was also amused to see the Department of Justice and that pig Jeannine Pirro had to drop charges against “reflecting pool vandals” when it turned out to be a result of shoddy installation on a (surprise!) a no-bid contract for one of the Harkonnens’ friends? Everything the Baron said about the reflecting pool was a lie (as everyone with a brain and one working eye could see), and his minions jumped in line–against all reason, against all sanity, and above all else, against the Constitution–to snap to his insane logic and mentality and excuses. His supporters should never be allowed in public again without being shamed for the bootlicking quislings they are. (I laugh every time they call him “Daddy”–showing they are all fucking betas and will roll over, ass end up in the air ready for his penetration) Karoline Leavitt and Jeannine Pirro will go on to jobs at Fox, next to Sophie “Maga Skipper” (Barbie would never) Cunningham.

And when this is finally all over? Watch the centrist Dems try to close the book and “move on.” We saw this after the Bush Crime Syndicate left office in 2009, and way back when the Republicans sold out southern Blacks for political power. (They haven’t changed from what they became under Grant.)

What this country has allowed itself to become makes me appreciate that I am old, and I do not ever wish I were younger. Ever. And I wouldn’t go back in time even if I could.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and take my book over to my easy chair. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved stained glass. I played with it as a hobby in my twenties, but could never ever dream of doing something so artistic.

Everything

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I have to take the car over to the dealership across the river tomorrow morning, but hope to have a nice productive day once I get home from that. I intend to stay inside the cool house as much as possible. I feel rested and good this morning–my Achilles tendons are making their presence known again, but nothing unbearable, just noticeable. I slept really well last night, which is nice, and the heat is breaking at last; now we’re just in a heat advisory, rather than an extreme heat watch. I parked my car in the garage at work yesterday, so the drive home was bearable yesterday. I picked up the mail, got my copy of All Aboard for Murder by Ellen Byron, and made a little groceries. I did do some chores last night–cleaned out the sink and ran the dishwasher overnight–and did some picking up. We watched another episode of Ride or Die, which we are loving, and I went to bed. And it looks like we may get some rain this weekend, which would be marvelous; there’s nothing like New Orleans after a cooling summer downpour.

Something occurred yesterday on Facebook that hasn’t happened in quite a while; someone from one of my past eras (thanks, Taylor, for that name) appeared on my feed extolling ignorant MAGA talking points about Dr. Fauci and his testimony yesterday and of course, the people in his life were all there replying (viciously) in agreement in his comments. While I was tempted to ask, did you go back to school and get either a medical or epidemiology degree I chose instead to block him. It was also a reminder that over the years I’ve accepted friend requests from people out of a previous era mostly out of curiosity, more than anything else. I’ve also accepted friend requests from strangers since I started an account there during the Bush administration (yikes). Sometimes I get requests from names that sound familiar and I can’t place either the name or the face, so I don’t know how I know them or just that they have a familiar-sounding name. The person yesterday popped up on my feed out of nowhere, and was one of those I know I know you but don’t remember much about you which usually is an indication that, well, you’re not someone that made a deep impression on me nor do I care about you or your opinions. I saw the post, blocked the person, and then–because it hadn’t happened in so long–I posted about it blocking MAGA’s from my past. (Is anyone surprised that guys from my fraternity support an adjudicated rapist? And yes, that means exactly what you think it means.) Anyway, someone replied to my post with “Add me to the list” which was both annoying–you lazy MAGA fuck, you won’t block me?–and hilarious at the same time. Dude, I have no fucking idea who you are. Your name sounds familiar but that’s it, and do you honestly think I care what a rando MAGA piece of shit thinks? The arrogance! Like it’s some great pleasure for me to be friends with you on social media when I don’t even know who you are? For the record, MAGA is a cult with a plank for homophobia. Every single time you vote, you vote to have my rights as an American stripped away. And you think we should be friends? Fuck all the way off, and then fuck off some more.

And my wall isn’t an airport–no need to announce your departure. Have the life you voted for. I mean that with all of my heart.

For the record, the tolerant left is another Fox News lie. My tolerance went away during the HIV/AIDS pandemic–remember? “It’s killing all the right people”? If you’re looking for tolerance of your abhorrent beliefs that also mean you consider me less than human, you’re knocking on the wrong door, boo. Look for the house with the swastikas MAGA signs.

Recently, someone promoting his business, natch,did a light show on the Lalaurie mansion–without permission from either the owners or the Vieux Carre Commission. It was in incredibly poor taste–I’ve always thought it being a tourist attraction was exploitative, given the house’s horrific history, and what Delphine LaLaurie did to enslaved people shouldn’t be a folk legend told in whispers and intended to give a cheap thrill. People were tortured, maimed, and murdered there; the amount of suffering is unimaginable, and surely its in poor taste and exploitative to market that horrific past. If any piece of ground in this city is haunted, surely that lot would be it. I have always wanted to write about the Lalaurie House, but I wouldn’t want to do it in an exploitative kind of way, which I am not sure is even possible. Over a decade ago, a friend who is a horror writer suggested I should do a short story collection called Monsters of New Orleans; how could such a book be possible without including Delphine the demon? Maybe someday.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow before (or after) my trip to the West Bank.

Ben Pierce also does excellent Louisiana photography, and I love this shot of a foot bridge in the Atchafalaya Swamp–very evocative, and an excellent writing prop

Fragile

Wednesday and somehow, it’s Pay the Bills Wednesday again. Go figure, right? Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, slipping, into the future….

I’ve been spacy this week and I am not really sure what that’s about, honestly. I don’t mind–I’m being productive and getting things done, but I think I’m still not used to all this free time that I have now. I’m used to worrying about things I have to do when I’m taking down time, and I’m also so used to having so much to do all the time that I can’t comprehend having actual down time without anxiety. I’m still wrapping my mind around this. Trust me, I don’t miss being that busy or that Type A in the least. So the week is going well. I haven’t been doing much reading this week, either, but after I get home tonight–depending on how miserable the drive home in the heat–I want to do some reading. This a/c in the car not working thing is very unpleasant (fortunately I am not in the car that long), so I will have to bring the car in this Friday. It’s fine, I haven’t been over to the West Bank in a while, and I should see what else I should do while I am over there. I have to make groceries on the way home, and of course, not having a/c in the car is going to make the trip even more marvelous. Heavy heaving sigh.

Yesterday was a good day, even if I was tired. The plumber is coming to look at the sink tomorrow morning, so I need to empty the dishwasher tonight and do something about the dishes in the sink, which are too dirty to load into the dishwasher, but I can at least hide them in there to get them out of the sink and out of their way. Yesterday was a nice, busy day at the office, and I stayed caught up on everything. Our site visit is today, too. Two more days of July, so I also have end of the month duties to look forward to tomorrow and Monday. Yay! I know this sounds like I’m spoiled, but not having cold air in the car during a excessive heat warning is the pits. By the time I got home yesterday I was drained; the heat just sucks your soul right out of you. I fed Sparky and gave him some attention (he loves to sit on my shoulders and head butt me) before collapsing into my easy chair to cool down from the hideous heat outside. Paul was home, so we watched some Jeopardy before diving back into Ride or Die, which we are loving. Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer need to be in everything. I went to bed at a relatively decent time and slept like a stone. I’m debating running errands on the way home tonight in the heat; there are a couple of things I need, so maybe I should just swing by and make some groceries on the way home but not drive uptown for the mail until after I get the car serviced Friday morning. It does seem smarter. At least then I will know if there’s anything wrong with the a/c compressor.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mins. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will see you tomorrow on my last day in the office for the week day blog.

This is such an 80’s look! Sweaty and everything torn for a glimpse of lovely skin. And lots and lots of oil.YayYay

School

Oddly enough, this past weekend I was thinking about my experiences in school (while being a little taken aback by how long ago I graduated high school; two years will be the fiftieth anniversary of that). Public school was unpleasant for me after we moved to the suburbs (it was fine when we lived in the city), and I always figured the other kids somehow figured out that I was gay and bullied me until we moved to Kansas, where I had one good year before it started up again. How do they always know? What I actually didn’t know was that my sister (and why wouldn’t she have told him, or my mother?) told my father (in the wake of Mom’s death) that I was bullied pretty badly. Dad brought it up at some recently (I think during the May trip) , but he had an entirely different perspective and one that had never occurred to me before; “you were so much younger than everyone. Not only should we not have let you skip a grade, we should have held you out a year.”

Wow. Wasn’t prepared for that massive paradigm shift in my head canon. I also recently read a post from someone who, like me, had been bullied for being gay in high school, only to have one of his bullies reach out to reconnect like nothing had ever happened…which is also something similar to my experience; people I went to high school with are stunned that I remember being bullied and don’t have good memories. ‘But everyone loved you!” they always say, and I am always taken aback by their reaction. Is it…is it possible that calling me a fag was just…teasing and didn’t mean anything more? And I can remember, actually, hearing them call other guys that, too–an insult and a joke…so were they really just teasing me, considering me one of the guys? Did it sting so badly and horribly because it was true, and they didn’t know? And of course, given my brain chemistry issues…

And yes, I was sixteen when I graduated from high school. I was almost three years younger than some of the kids in my graduating class.

I will have to explore this in an essay at some point. Two or three years in teenager is a fucking lot. And it seems like my sixties are my decade for reflecting on the past.

But it’s Tuesday, I am awake and drinking coffee, Sparky is being annoying because he wants attention and my body doesn’t feel quite awake yet. The heat warning is going through the weekend (!!!) so again, probably going to try to stay inside as much as possible. There’s only a month left of this extreme heat…yay? There were some systems out there they were watching for potential hurricane development, but this morning’s check of the NOAA web page shows nothing of interest, which is different from the last time I looked at that map. But the local weather also shows nothing to watch out there, so I guess those systems disbursed? Not sure how to feel about that and whether to trust it or not, but….nothing to worry about is nothing to pay attention to. Our garbage disposal also–per our landlady–has a clogged filter so my kitchen sink spigots don’t let any water through. This started on Sunday, but Sam the handyman wasn’t around yesterday, but he’s out there this morning so I will tell him on my way out to the office and hopefully, tonight I can do the dishes. Yesterday was very miserably hot, so much so that the a/c in the car never blew cool. I was concerned–it needs freon, I think, so Friday morning I’ll have to drive over to the West Bank (due for oil change, too) and get that looked at–there’s no way I can survive a summer here without functional a/c in the car.

We are all caught up on House of the Dragon, and watched another Ride or Die. I was glad to see Sir Criston die horribly and dishonorably; personally I loved that he challenged his foes to a duel only to get an arrow in the chest in response. It also made me think of an allegory last night, as Rhaenyra and Daemon continued to make mistakes and fail at ruling; it’s much easier to capture a throne than it is to govern, as the Republicans remind us over and over. The only thing they are actually good at is being an opposition party. Democrats are shitty at opposition but good at governing for the most part. Isn’t that always the way? Westeros is descending into chaos again–and chaos, as we remember from Littlefinger, is a ladder.

Yesterday was a kind of weird one, honestly. I did feel off all day, not really sure what that was all about, but I also managed to get current on everything. I did some writing yesterday, too, but not much but it was something, a couple of hundred words, but it was some progress and every word is one word closer to having a completed first draft. I am coming straight home from work tonight, and if the sink is working I’ll do the dishes, and then I am going to reread what I already have done and make notes–I already have some for Chapter One–and hopefully this weekend I will be able to get more written, since I’ll be camped out inside the house all weekend. The house is a very lovely cool oasis from the heat and humidity. Oh! I also figured out some more Scotty things! Which makes me happy, you have no idea. I was beginning to think Scotty was gone from me now…horrors!

And on that thought, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Taco Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.

@DavidFlorentine also does excellent New Orleans photography. Follow him on social media! I love this moody sunrise shot of Pirate’s Alley.

Love Sensation

Monday and back to the office with me, lickety-split and all that nonsense. I feel good and rested this morning, if having a bit of a slow start to the day, but once the coffee starts kicking in I should be fine. Here’s hoping for a lovely week. The coffee is quite good; one of the chores I did yesterday was descaling and cleaning the Keurig, which was very overdue. I did quite a bit yesterday, given how much time I spent sitting in my easy chair, chilling out. But I got some work done on the floors, organized the refrigerator and freezer to optimize space, and now probably this coming weekend I will work on the kitchen cabinets and the laundry room and my workspace. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and also kind of relaxing. I have some errands to do, and am wondering about getting them handled today on the way home from work tonight. We’re in both a heat advisory and an extreme heat watch, with the “feels like” in the high hundred and teens. YIKES!!! The car is going to feel amazing when I get in it after work this afternoon….yay.

Yesterday was a very lovely day–it’s so lovely to enjoy weekends free from stress about the gazillion emails waiting in my inbox, you have no idea–and I did some vastly overdue chores and organizing, while watching television and doing some writing. (So many people think I’ll be bored when I finally retire from the day job. Hardly. Not so long as I can read, watch, and type, darlin’.) I got caught up on the news–Ukraine continues to embarrass and wreck the Russian economy and war effort, and it’s just a matter of time before Putin falls, isn’t it? I am very pleased with how the weekend went, and I feel so completely rested this morning, it’s kind of wild, you know?

House of the Dragon is so much better this season than the previous ones, and I have to say I am glad I went back and gave this season a second chance after that terrible season opener. Finally things are happening instead of the conspiring–not good, especially given Game of Thrones–but I still don’t care who winds up on the Iron Throne, and given it’s Westeros, my guess is none of these contenders that we are seeing will win anything. Royal family feuds inevitably and historically weaken dynasties–so is it such a wonder that the Targaryens fell, and this was how it all started? I just wish the first two seasons hadn’t been quite so slow with all the set-up.

Started rereading Celebrity yesterday, and picked out my next reads–picked out a novel I don’t know how I acquired–and it entirely possible I confused this author with someone else (it’s happened before, and will happen again). Regardless, the first three paragraphs of The Last House on Needless Street sucked me right in AND triggered my creativity, so am looking forward to getting deeper into my read. It seems like one of those fabulous “creepy house down the street in a small town, which I love (We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the ur-novel of this subgenre), so we shall see how that goes. L.A. Noir will be my nonfiction; it’s also research, after all. I also must make a list of research necessary for the next Scotty, so I can get started doing that. I also want to finish this chapter of Chlorine before working on some short stories. I also am thinking again about The Last Picture Show and writing an essay about its depiction of masculinity and male sexuality, which would also require a revisit.

Still digesting Rough Pages, which was so engrossing and smart, with so much to say. I wish I had gone deeper into the importance of queer books, which is the book’s overlying theme, in my newsletter recommending the book to my subscribers. We have so many amazing queer crime writers these days, it’s hard keeping up with them all.

We also started watching Ride or Die, and seriously–can we have Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer in everything, seriously? This show is incredible, and both women are fantastic in their roles. Why haven’t we seen Waddingham as an action/adventure star before? She is a goddess, and the way she lights up the screen is amazing. Highly recommend this one, seriously.

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

Gorgeous out bisexual actor Francois Arnaud for Under Armour. Damn! You see why I’ve been a fan since The Borgias.