Category: television

My Wish Came True

The big news of yesterday is that I actually revised, copy-edited, and finished a short story last night. Woo-hoo! The deadline for the anthology is not until this weekend, but I think I’m going to reread it one more time and then go ahead and pull the trigger. The last story I sent out was rejected, so a sale would be nice this time around. But if not, I’ll just put my nose to the grindstone and try, try, try again. I can always put this into the collection–and writing the introduction to the collection is on my to-do list for this week. I think June is going to be here sooner than I was thinking–the holiday really has messed up my already fucked-up sense of time–which isn’t ideal, but it’s fine. I want to get this one manuscript finished in June–and maybe the collection, too–and then I can move on to my next manuscript.

See? I am starting to feel ambitious again, and that’s been a long-time coming.

I slept very well last night, too, which was a very good feeling and of course tomorrow I don’t need to set the alarm as it is Work-at-Home Friday for one Gregalicious. We started watching a new Netflix show called Bodkin, which is really quite enjoyable–the first episode wasn’t terribly promising, but it really takes off in the second episode and continues to build. It also has a lot more depth than it seemed to at first, and I am looking forward to getting deeper into it tonight. I also am going to try to do some more reading this evening, after doing some more writing. My next goal is to revise the prologue to The Summer of Lost Boys–probably tonight–and then tomorrow after work-at-home duties I’ll work on finishing the revision of “When I Die,” and this weekend I can get to seriously working on my next book. I came up with a very ambitious writing plan for the rest of the summer; so we’ll see how that works out. But–Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, it’s also completely do-able. There will be times, I know, when I will need to rest and not risk burn out again, and that could affect the schedule. The key is to be flexible, and not get down on myself, for therein lies the path to crippling anxiety and creative paralysis.

But damn, it feels good to feel excited about writing again rather than seeing it as an odious chore…especially when life sometimes feels like everything is an odious chore. I still have to try to fix the garbage disposal, which is irritating not to have, and I still need to really do something about the floors. I think if and when I get my tax refund, I am going to use it to buy a new vacuum cleaner, one that is heavy duty and not only will work, but continue to work with little to no maintenance. I don’t know what is wrong with my current one, but I am going to go through the manual and see if I can’t figure out how to get it to work properly; if that fails, I’ll be getting a new one. Big plans for my weekend, right? The excitement really never lets up around here, let me tell you.

The Louisiana lege, in an effort to create a state more repressive than Puritan Massachusetts, passed two bills yesterday targeted at queer people: a bathroom bill, and a “don’t say gay” bill, which are now heading to our Christo-fascist governor’s desk to be signed…and thanks to the illegitimate Supreme Court, these laws will likely be upheld. Thanks again, protest voters in 2016. So glad Hillary wasn’t “pure” enough for you–and everything she warned about that summer has fucking come true. I will never forgive protest voters in 2016, and no one else should, either. There is no telling what other horrors Republican state legislatures and governors are going to do, now that they know they have a joke court upholding all of their un-American and un-constitutional laws. Samuel Alito and Clarence Thomas are making a mockery of the Constitution and legal ethics, and John Roberts either doesn’t care or applauding them behind the scenes–so he is also unfit for office. That’s three who need to go right there–and Kavanaugh, Gorsuch and Barrett shouldn’t even be there in the first place. So, hey, Susan Sarandon–miss me with your fucking ally-ship to my community, you narcissistic bitch. I will never watch anything with her in it–and that means never seeing some classic movies that mattered to me again, and frankly, I can live with it. Glad you don’t vote with your vagina.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines for my last day in the office this week. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader–unless you’re a Louisiana Republican, in which case you can rightly and justly fuck all the way off.

In the Mood

Someone really needs to do one of those music-themed crime anthologies built around either big band music, or the music of the Andrews Sisters; and In the Mood would be a great title for it, wouldn’t it? Don’t @ me, I’m not interesting in doing another anthology, thank you very much, praise Jesus and hope the creek don’t rise.

I was right; I got very mentally fatigued yesterday afternoon, and last night after we finished watching the second season of Euphoria, I was basically falling asleep in my chair. I’d swear we watched something else, too; oh yes, a stand-up comic special on Netflix, but I can’t remember the name of the comedian. I feel much more awake and alive today, which is a very good thing. I also feel a little bit behind this morning, and I am–not sure what that is about, but I am a bit off, too, I think, which is weird. But I enjoyed finishing the show–not sure if it’s coming back again or not, but the second season finale definitely wrapped everything up, so if it doesn’t the stories are pretty much finished for the most part. Zendaya was terrific–the whole cast, really; Paul and I were amused that the most level, centered and likable character on the show was Fez the drug dealer. Jacob Elordi is also memorable as sociopath Nate–casting beautiful people as monsters is genius, really.

I also didn’t write yesterday–the brain fatigue thing again, but at least this time it wasn’t the fog, you know? I do think I am starting to get back to normal, or what passes for it at any rate. It’s normal to be tired after not sleeping well. It’s normal to feel off after finally getting a good night’s sleep again. I was very tired when I got home, wasn’t I? I have some errands to run tonight, too–and tomorrow I am taking workout clothes for me to change into at work so I can go to the gym afterwards, see if this theory of changing at work and going directly there afterwards will work–we shall see, shan’t we?

One thing that I’ve been doing lately is submersing myself in the music of the 1970s, to help get myself more into the right space to write this book when I am ready to get started on it, and frankly, Top Forty music of the period–with a few exceptions–was awful and cheesy and terrible. So many novelty songs (“The Streak” by Ray Stevens jumps to mind, and there were so many others), so much cheese (Tony Orlando & Dawn, and so many other offenders), and some frankly terrible recordings surrounding the few gems that I don’t know how I listened to it growing up. But we did; both my sister and I always had our radios tuned into either WLS or WCFL for hours every day. I am trying to get the prologue to this finished this week, as well as revising another short story whose deadline is this weekend, and still really trying to get everything organized and sorted. I put some short story anthology call deadlines on my calendar yesterday, which was a nice start to get better organized, and I think, besides this book I want to finish, I am going to spend a lot of this summer trying to do more short stories. I also want to get the introduction to the short story collection finished by Monday, and a first chapter of the new Scotty done.

But my immersion in music of the early 1970’s–and other pop culture aspects of the time; television was also mostly garbage back then, too; thanks censors–also led me back around to listen to the eponymous first album by Boston in the car over the last two years, and it still holds up. It’s quite excellent, although I suppose it would be considered excessive nowadays; as rock music pushed boundaries in that decade and became more orchestral, especially in the second half of the decade. There’s not a song on that album that’s not a bop (in modern parlance), and it also put me in mind of other favorite albums from throughout my life–and making a list of them. I’ve always had a soundtrack album for my life, and revisiting music always brings back a lot of memories. Listening to the Billboard Top 100 of 1973 (awful as it was) made me remember other things–like Romper Room, Captain Kangaroo, Bozo’s Circus, and Ray Raynor’s show; the Saturday morning cartoons; and the horrible variety shows that were everywhere back then and finally died out in the early 1980’s. I really want this book to be good, and I’m going to have to go to a very dark place to write this book, too, and make it as real as possible…which is why I am immersing myself in the early 1970s. I am also reminding myself I can change things in the suburb to fit my writing needs; it doesn’t have to be exact, just as Bury Me in Shadows didn’t have to be correct about the homeplace. (My mind can be very annoying at times.)

But I feel good this morning, both mentally and physically. After work tonight I need to get the mail and make some groceries (not much, just a replace some things run) and then it’s home to write, possibly make dinner, and finish some chores. I am going to head into the spice mines now, so have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back probably later.

Kissin’ Time

Ah, the Tuesday after Memorial Day and back to the office with me. Such an exciting life I lead, don’t I? I didn’t sleep all that great last night, to be honest–the kind of half-sleep/sort of awake kind of nights, which I didn’t quite understand until I came downstairs to find my sleeping pill (Trazodone, if you’re keeping track) sitting next to my keyboard, where I left it last night. Mystery solved!

But as I wake up, I’m feeling better–more alive and awake than usual, but I imagine I’ll be running out of steam later this afternoon. LSU is in the Chapel Hill regional for the NCAA baseball tournament, playing Wofford. GEAUX TIGERS! I did do some other things yesterday, including finishing the dishes and laundry, and doing the floors. I think I need a new vacuum cleaner (I saw a meme the other day that said “now that I’m an adult I understand why so many prizes on the The Price is Right were appliances”, and yes, very accurate). I didn’t work on fixing the garbage disposal or get out the vacuum handbook for maintenance help this weekend, but it’s something that can go on the list for this coming weekend. I won’t have as many errands to do next weekend, if I plan properly; although I will need to go to the library to donate books.

I also managed to make it to the gym yesterday to start the arm-rehabilitation process again. I went back to the light-weight-one-set thing, worried about overdoing or re-injuring (my biggest fear, seriously) my arm…which seemed easy-peasy, but we’ll have to see if stiffness or soreness sets in any time today. But the stretching and exercise felt great, and I was on an endorphin high for the rest of the afternoon, which was pretty fucking amazing. We’ll see how long I can keep this up for…I am looking forward to re-acclimating and getting back into a regular workout routine by mid-summer. Huzzah!

I read Michael Thomas Ford’s story in the queer horror anthology We Mostly Come Out at Night, edited by Rob Costello. Ford’s story is called “Be Not Afraid”, which is what I recognized immediately as what angels say in the Bible when they appear before humans to bring them messages from God, and I love some Biblical based horror. But even better–it was a Mothman rural West Virginia story, set at Christmas, and what a delightful story it turned out to be. Ford is a master at voice, and writing sentences that make you keep reading on to see what happens next. His characters are likable and relatable and absolutely real, and it’s always delightful to read one of his stories–he always seems to write about people who are lost and become found, but not in a Christian way, if that makes sense; he writes lovely hopeful queer stories. In a just world he’d be more successful than most other authors…he’s one of those I think will be studied as a queer literary giant by future generations. He also always can do poverty in a way that isn’t moralistic or judgmental; you understand the characters and what they are experiencing, but not in an exploitative way. Highly recommended, and I am looking forward to reading the other stories in the book, too.

I wrote for a little while yesterday, too. I worked on something I’ve been thinking about over the weeks–The Summer of Lost Boys, which I think is going to be my next book, once I finish the current in-progress one–and I also did some brainstorming on the next Scotty book, which I am hoping to finish writing by Labor Day. It felt good to be writing again, even if it was so very little, and I think my creativity is coming back in a major way after being dormant for so long. It feels good when I write. The writing I did yesterday didn’t feel like it was garbage or anything, either. Here’s hoping that feeling continues, shall we?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and no doubt I’ll be back later–I am definitely making progress on catching up on blog entries, which is terrific–and so I bid you adieu for now.

Desert Moon

The spice must flow…

I read Dune for the first time when I was in high school. At the time, it was merely a trilogy, and the original was just starting to move from cult classic to widely read accepted classic. In the 1970s, the book was noted primarily for its commentary on ecology and the environment. I had never read anything like that. I’d not been into reading science fiction up until that time, and I didn’t really much care for science fiction movies, either; with their incredibly low budgets and amateurish special effects that always took you out of the story no matter how much you were enjoying it. I used to watch Flash Gordon serials, when some of those afternoon kids’ shows that Chicago’s television stations would run them–and while badly produced on a shoestring, the stories themselves were compelling enough to hold my interest, and Buster Crabbe was certainly good-looking enough to keep me interested.

I digress.

But reading Dune turned me into more of a science fiction fan than I had been already. Like I said, I’d never read anything like it, and while my teenaged self primarily was interested in the space opera elements of the story–prince loses everything to mortal enemies, but gets revenge on everyone, defeats the enemies of his family, and rises to become not only the new emperor but messiah of a new religion that takes over the vast reaches of the empire, and the holy war (jihad) of conversion that followed. One of the things I loved about the way Frank Herbert wrote the book was how it bounced around the galaxy, uncovering the mindsets and other conspiracies going on throughout the empire (politics) in what seemed like disconnected stories that all converged in the end and were resolved…while showing the connections that were there all along. I read the other two books in the original trilogy that year–Dune Messiah and Children of Dune–and I always thought the second was perhaps the weakest of the series. I’ve never reread any of the books–I think the series grew to six or seven before Herbert died and his heirs took over; I’ve not read any not-Frank generated Dune novels–other than the first, and I know the last time I reread Dune, I was really taken aback by the writing, which seemed poor. I would like to revisit Dune Messiah at some point because it’s more political than anything else; and also set up the rest of the series while the original remains as the only book of the series that can be read as a stand-alone.

Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atreides, the reluctant messiah

Star Wars was released the summer before my senior year in high school, and it changed special effects, and science fiction films, forever. So when the David Lynch film was released in the early 1980;s, I went into it expecting it to be more than it turned out to be. I had wondered how all the internal monologues would be handled, as well as the entire backstory that was necessary for the film to make sense to people who’ve not read the book. It was a big film, to be sure, but the effects weren’t great–and the choice to hear the internal thoughts as whispers, which meant almost fifty percent of the picture was whispered–weakened it. And really, most of the real action of the story takes place in the second half–and basically the Lynch film condensed the second half of the book to a quick transitional jump, and it wrapped up very quickly. (Having Paul bring rain to Arrakis in the final scene was also a bad choice, which negated everything about Dune’s ecology and the secret of the worms.) But I did like it, if parts (mostly Harkonnens) were over the top. But I was kind of excited to hear Denis Villeneuve was shooting it in two parts. I enjoyed the first part, but the second? Exceptional, and proved that Villeneuve’s vision for the property was the right one.

Dune Part 2 follows the book far more closely than any other adaptation has, which usually seems to run out of steam and time by the time Paul and his mother flee into the desert to seek safety with the Fremen. I also really liked how reluctant Paul was to assume leadership, or to launch his “religion”–because he IS the fulfillment of the Bene Gesserit “prophecy,” which was really just propaganda spread by Sisterhood missionaries centuries, if not millennia, before. He can see the possible futures as well as the entire past, and he knows his holy war will kill millions, if not billions, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for that. Dune Part 2 plays like a galactic Game of Thrones, and I appreciated all the politics on top of the action. I feel like this Villeneuve version of the story is the closest to what Herbert wrote and created. It’s an epic film, shot on an epic scale, with stunning visuals and strong performances–Austin Butler’s Feyd-Rautha makes you forget all about Sting’s bizarre performance in the Lynch version–and I do look forward to the next chapter in this sprawling saga.

Highly recommended.

That’s Why (I love You So)

Memorial Monday!

Yesterday was quite pleasant, actually. I ran my errand quickly and worked on the apartment some more before watching the SEC Baseball tournament final and watching Dune Part 2 (more on that later) and this week’s Interview With the Vampire. I fell into bed shortly thereafter, and slept like the dead. As predicted, it’s Memorial Day and the final day of a long weekend, and I find myself wondering why I didn’t get more done. I know I still have stamina issues, but the. fact that my default is again berating myself rather than understanding why and letting myself off the hook tells me that mentally I am getting closer to myself after a long break–and that’s a good thing. I do have some things to do around here yet this morning that shouldn’t be too hard to deal with, and I want to get some writing done. I am going to the gym to start my rehab up again, and that will undoubtedly exhaust me, as will walking to the gym and back in the heat…and perhaps I should start thinking about driving, even if that means trying to find a place to park, which is never an easy thing to do and can very frustrating. I know, I know, the walking should be part of the workout, but walking that far in our excessive heat and humidity is debilitating…and maybe driving is just the thing to get me going regularly again.

One never knows, does one?

I also need to figure out why my vacuum cleaner isn’t working. I’d really prefer not to buy another one, as it seems like we just bought this one. Then again, COVID memory fog makes everything from the past seem like it was a very long time ago. But I do know it’s been at least two years since it last worked properly. Today I’ll sweep the rugs and shake them out, which is what I’ve been doing. Not great, but it does work and that’s really the most important thing. Maybe with my tax refund I can buy a new one.

LSU didn’t play great in the title game, falling to Tennessee 4-3, but they made it interesting in the bottom of the ninth, scoring two runs and stranding the tying run on second base. I’d say that’s a pretty good outcome, considering Tennessee is the top ranked team in the country (as they were last year) and LSU isn’t even ranked this season, and was the 11 seed in the tournament. They knocked out three top ten teams on their way to the finals, and remember–they won it all last year despite not winning the SEC, regular season or tournament. They’re pretty hot now, and are playing extremely well, so the postseason looks even more exciting than it did last week, to be honest. What great times to be an LSU fan, seriously–even if they don’t repeat, the baseball team is always fun to watch.

So, this morning I plan to get the kitchen rugs taken care of, then maybe take care of the living room floor as well, while trying to do some writing and reading. I need to make some to-do lists, update the bills log, and get ready for the work week which starts tomorrow, alas. I also don’t have an Admin Day to ease into the week, since I’ll having be to see clients tomorrow.

But I am feeling rested and relaxed, which is probably the most important thing for any weekend, really. We’ll probably finish watching Euphoria tonight, and I’m not really sure what to do about dinner. I have some fresh ground beef in the fridge, and I was thinking about sautéing it with mushrooms, onion and bell peppers, but I don’t know now if that’s a good use of the meat or not, but I don’t want to make meatballs and I already cooked out yesterday. I guess I can think about it later. It’s too early to make a decision about dinner anyway.

And on that incredibly dull note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be around the rest of the day.

Private Eyes

I loved this show. 100%.

I wasn’t familiar with the characters before I started watching the show, but you can never go wrong with anything that comes out of Neil Gaiman’s classic run on The Sandman, which is where these characters originally came from, and once I’d heard that, I knew it was going onto my “must watch” list. (I also believe the Netflix adaptation of The Sandman was one of the best television shows of the last decade, and I cannot wait for it to return.) Anyway, the characters were spun off into their own comics series, and that series has now been adapted for Netflix.

I wasn’t sure what to make of Dead Boy Detectives going in–I wasn’t familiar with the characters–but I’d seen a preview so I knew it was about two ghosts who solved cases, which was an interesting idea that I rather liked (and wished I’d thought of myself). The first episode wasn’t great, in all honesty, but I rarely judge a show based on its first episode as they are generally having to do a lot of story and character introduction and set up for the show, which is not easy to pull off. It wasn’t bad, I just had hoped for better, if that makes sense, and didn’t stop watching.

And it hit its stride in episode two, with each episode building on the one before as the series went on–and of course, when we reached the end, we were sorry it was over and wanted a second season immediately.

The show focuses on the ghosts of two very young men, Edwin and Charles, who somehow have (by choice) become trapped on Earth rather than moving on their afterlife; Edwin died as a result of a hazing ritual gone wrong and his soul was sold to the devil by his schoolmates, who didn’t realize what they were doing. He spends numerous decades in hell before managing his escape, and he appears to Charles when he is near death, and comforts him as he dies. Charles is also the first human who’s been able to see Edwin, so he is charmed by that as well. They become friends, Charles dies and rather than moving on, stays with Edwin–and the two decide to become detectives…helping other ghosts trapped on this plane by finding who they are, why they got stuck here, and resolving the issue so the ghost can move on.

In the first episode, they take the case of a young psychic who is possessed by a demon, Crystal, and they exorcise the demon from her but she has memory loss. They decide to let her stay with them until she gets her memory back, and she helps them with their cases. Two other characters, Nico and Jenny, who also start helping them with their cases. There are also any number of recurring characters that are an absolute delight–Lukas Gage as the Cat King is a particular standout, as is Ruth Connell (whom I loved on Supernatural) as Night Nurse, who is responsible for getting recalcitrant souls who haven’t moved on to their proper afterlives–so Edwin and Charles are also in her sights. Each episode is a case, which also moves them forward on their personal through-stories, as well.

Edwin is gay, as is the Cat King, and Edwin is a bit in love with Charles–who has chemistry and an attraction to Crystal. However, this potential “love triangle” is headed off perfectly; Edwin confesses, and Charles–not gay–doesn’t rule it out but certainly not right now, and it doesn’t change how Charles feels about him–he loves him and they are best friends. Sensitively handled and brilliantly welcomed by this viewer, to be sure.

And the Cat King’s barely concealed double-entendres and attraction to Edwin steals the series.

Bravo and well done.

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Ah, the Von Erich curse.

I’ve always been interested in wrestling. I wanted to go out for the wrestling team in high school, but enough people were already bullying me and calling me a fag, and as painful as those words were, they were made worse by the knowledge they were true–and absolutely godawful knowing I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant….but I knew by their faces and the tone of voice it was spoken in that it wasn’t a good thing. The last thing in the world I wanted was to wear one of those skintight singlets and get aroused for the world to see (although I learned, much later, that it was so common no one ever said anything about it; but even now I am not certain I would have been given that same grace as a sexual suspect); that would be the end of the world as I knew it…so going out for the team wasn’t an option for me, and I kind of regret that fear kept me from something I’d enjoy.

But as I was figuring out my sexuality and trying to figure out what all was entailed by being an object of scorn and disgust by everyone, I started being drawn to professional wrestling. The heyday of pro wrestling was long in the past in the late 1960’s and 1970s, and the WWE boom was yet to make it mainstream once again. But the body contact and domination/submission aspects were the closest thing I could actually find on television that was sort of like a male/male sexual experience–which made my liking for pro wrestling even more suspect and something I couldn’t really talk about with anyone because of course he likes pro wrestling, the fag.

So, I was closeted in that way, too.

But one day when I was a teenager I was in a store–a Walgreens or something–and I saw a professional wrestling magazine with a cover story on Kevin Von Erich, and he was like nothing I’d ever seen before–a tall, long, lean and muscular body in white trunks and barefoot, and handsome in a rugged kind of way. I bought the magazine, and became a fan of the entire Von Erich family…and also was aware of how tragedy haunted the family. When I first heard about this movie, I had to see it…although I wasn’t sure how telling this story would have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

But…I did enjoy it. A lot.

It’s actually very well done, but it’s also kind of sad to watch almost from the very beginning. The movie also cut out one of the brothers, but seriously, another death in this grim film might have been too much for any viewer to handle or take.

The film is very well done, and the story is sad–one about toxic masculinity, distant and emotionally unavailable parents, and how the dream, the drive, of being at the top of the wrestling game caused so much damage. Afraid to admit weakness, not really able to ask anyone else for help when struggling emotionally, the suicides make complete sense. The Von Erich brothers were so tightly bonded they didn’t have room for much else in their lives–friendship, love, etc.–other than the grind of training and wrestling and tightening the bond with each other. The cast is brilliant–great casting, but ultimately flawed in the physical side of things; the Von Erichs were taller than the actors playing them, and of course Kevin was never as jacked as Zac Efron; those kinds of bodies were extremely rare during those decades. Kerry was big and muscular and defined, but he’d also been an Olympic wannabe in discus and javelin.

There’s a particularly moving scene towards the end of the film where Kevin finally breaks down from how overwhelming all the tragedies have been and the toll on his soul and psyche, and his young sons come to comfort him…and he tells them how much he misses his brothers and misses being a brother; the boys tell him they’ll be his brothers, and he apologizes to them because “men aren’t supposed to cry.”

Maybe if the Von Erich brothers had been raised to not believe in toxic masculinity and the narrow definition of what a man is, and allowed themselves to be vulnerable and get help for their demons, the story may not have been as tragic.

Kevin’s sons now wrestle professionally, and Kevin himself doesn’t believe in a curse on the family–though he did for a number of years, but he’s made peace with the past and focuses on his family.

I really enjoyed the movie, but it’s depressing. Four out of five stars.

Three of the actual Von Erichs, with Kevin in the center

Take a Message to Mary

Sunday!

I slept well again last night, which was lovely. I did get some things done yesterday, which was great–but making groceries yesterday wore me out. But I did get the dry cleaning dropped off, and made some terrific progress on the apartment. And of course, the LSU-South Carolina semi-final of the SEC baseball tournament…in which LSU fell behind 8-0 in the early innings, only to come back and win 12-11 in the tenth inning and earn a spot in the championship to play Tennessee. The game is on at one, and I’ll be there in my easy chair promptly at two to watch the game. Yesterday’s game was wild–one of the wilder LSU games I’ve seen–but served as yet another reminder of how exciting (and hard on the heart) being an LSU fan can be. I have to run an errand this morning, but I also want to do some writing before the game as well as some more cleaning.

Hilariously, yesterday as I left to run my errands I thought oh it’s pleasant outside today before getting into the car and seeing that “pleasant” in this instance meant 88 degrees! Utter madness, and another example of how we adjust to the heat here. I had some more thoughts about the writing yesterday, so even as I didn’t get any writing done yesterday, a lot was incubating in my head and goddamn it that counts! We also watched this week’s servings of Hacks, and the season finale of Abbott Elementary, and two episodes of Euphoria, and man those kids are seriously fucked up. I want to watch Dune today–Zendaya and Timothée Chalamet, woo hoo!–which is three hours long (and a challenge to not seem that long, for sure) after the baseball game, but we’ll see. I think Paul is planning on not doing much of anything today, so he’ll be napping occasionally on the couch all day once the game starts, and we’ll see how that all goes. I also have some cooking to do today–well, food prep anyway; I want to make watermelon soup and chicken salad for Paul to snack on–and later on today I think I’ll probably cook out, maybe even during the baseball game as “tailgate adjacent”–or I could order pizza and cook out tomorrow, as is traditional for Memorial Day. That’s a definite thought, and I do need to order some things from Office Depot; maybe I could do that and order the pizza, take the car and get both at the same time? That could be a bit fun, and a definite possibility. But pizza for a baseball game rather than burgers and hot dogs on the grill? Not entirely sure there…but tomorrow IS Memorial Day, and maybe U Pizza won’t be open tomorrow? Or–I could order it from Midway on Freret and go pick it up in the car? I just don’t know; decisions, decisions.

But I also think today is going to be my first day on the way back to physical strength and stamina and so forth. I am going to use my back massage roller thing today, and the massage gun I got for Christmas with the money Dad gave me; I may even stretch out and shave my head and everything before I get cleaned up this morning. It doesn’t, in fact, hurt anything to stretch every day, or do some crunches to get the blood pumping in the morning. I am going to the gym tomorrow with Paul–another reason for getting the pizza today–for the first time in weeks, and this will be the start of a new workout regimen for me, that I hope I can stick to despite the misery of a New Orleans summer–and this is really the perfect time to start writing another Scotty book that takes place over the summer, too; I can absolutely relate to the misery the boys will be experiencing in the book from the heat. I am also a bit excited, to tell you the truth, about writing another Scotty; I do love the characters a lot. I also think today is the day to sit down and make a writing plan for the rest of the year, so I can stay on track.

Excellent plan, Gregalicious. May this ambition I am feeling carry me through the rest of the day and the rest of the weekend. I also have some emails to answer, and some correspondence to take care of, which is peculiar to be sure; who writes letters anymore? But I am disputing charges and things with my insurance and some other nightmarish nonsense, and I have to write those things out. (Blue Cross Blue Shield of Louisiana is garbage, and with Janky Jeff Landry running Louisiana, they’ll probably get a lot worse now that all branches of state government are controlled by Christofascists, trying to take the state back to 1860.) On the other hand, being a writer comes in handy for these letters, as does have a mostly logical brain that isn’t swayed by emotion–when I can control it, and usually, in writing things like this I can be very coldly analytical and brutal at the same time. (I have yet to ever write a complaint letter that did not bear fruit; they usually surrender than trying to use corporate-speak to tell me I am wrong, because they can’t answer all of my questions.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Memorial Day Eve, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later.

Sweeter Than You

Saturday morning and the first of my delicious and delightful three day weekend and this morning I slept in a bit. I had to stay up a little later than usual to finish laundering the bed linens, and was falling asleep in my chair until the final blanket was finished. But it was later than I usually go to bed, so I shouldn’t be surprised that I slept later this morning. I have a couple of errands to run today–making some more groceries, for one–but other than that, today should be a fairly restful day spent doing some cleaning and reading and writing. I’m not really sure what all I did last night after the day-job duties were complete, other than going to Costco, which is always exhausting. Today I do need to reorganize the kitchen and the refrigerator some–Costco and making groceries today render things disorganized and originally shoved into cabinets and the fridge just to get them off the counters, but it’s not a permanent solution and impractical.

I felt really good again yesterday, just as I do this morning. I have a Sam’s order being delivered this morning too–and I need to walk some things over to the dry cleaner. I want to spend some time reading Suicide Notes this morning (I also got Erik Larson’s The Demon of Unrest at Costco; it’s about the early days of the Civil War, which might make for an interesting read in these days of domestic division). I want to get some writing done this weekend–part of the reason I don’t remember much of what I did last night (besides watching two episodes of Euphoria), primarily because I was writing in my head as I sat in the easy chair with Sparky sleeping in my lap. I revised in my head a first chapter of a new project I want to work on, and I also figured out how to get going on my long-stalled y/a that I want to get finished this year. I was even thinking about “Never Kiss a Stranger” and more things I can put in it to anchor it even firmly in 1995; what gay dance clubs were like in the period–amusingly how someone always had a whistle and there was always some older queen with a tambourine out there shirtless, and the scent of poppers hanging in the heavy damp air and fog. I do think that could be an amazing story if I ever can give it my full attention.

Sounds like I am excited about writing again, doesn’t it? And maybe that’s why I am feeling better these days?

I also had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and was delighted to weigh only 203! I haven’t been that low in at least a decade, and you know, I thought I had lost weight from the way my clothes have been fitting and how I’ve been actually looking. Yes, I could probably stand to lose another ten pounds of body fat, and I need to get back into the gym to continue rehabbing my shoulder and then moving on to the rest of my body along the way; like yes, I should focus on shoulder exercises with very low weights, but I can also start working my abdominals and legs, too. It would be great to be in better shape by the end of the summer. I also need to make an eye appointment so I can order some prescription sunglasses.

And of course when I first got up, I was already thinking of all the errands I’d planned to do today that I was going to blow off or put off until tomorrow, but now that the coffee is kicking in I feel like I can, indeed, get all of that done. I want to wash the car and I also have to take some things to the dry cleaners’, and I had wanted to take books by the library but that’s the one I think I will pass on until next Saturday, when I don’t have as much to do and will probably want to stay inside the house for that whole weekend other than going to the gym. It’s also starting to feel like summer again–it was 92 yesterday when I went to my doctor’s appointment–so walking to the gym is going to be unpleasant and sweaty, but that’s something easy to deal with; it’s rain that’s the problem for walking to the gym. I think I may take a walk today, just to get some exercise, but I definitely need to start stretching every morning. (See how much better I am feeling? This morning I feel like I can do anything.)

I started reorganizing the kitchen, too, and my desk space is less cluttered and definitely looking better, but I’m still not entirely sure of how to change the design and layout. I know the bookcase alongside the couch I want to move away from the front door if I can find another place to put it–not sure if there is anywhere–but that is an essential step to making the living room more functional and less cluttered. I also have blog entries to finish that I’d like to get out of my drafts folder this weekend.

And on that note, I am going to make some breakfast and head into the spice mines while I wait for Sam’s to arrive. I’ll probably be back later, one never knows. Have a great Saturday Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again soon.

Sea Cruise

Work at home Friday, and here’s hoping for a great day, and even greater three day weekend. I will inevitably wake up on Tuesday morning, asking myself as I swill my morning coffee how did I waste three whole days? When you’re a Gregalicious, it’s ridiculously easy, you can trust me on that. I slept really well last night, which is great. I also slept in an extra hour and a half this morning, and so looking forward to finishing waking up over my coffee and see where the day leads. I have a work meeting this morning, and all kinds of things to get done for the job today. I also have all kinds of things I want to get done this weekend, so I guess we’ll see how productive I actually am. We shall certainly see. I’d like to finish my reread of Michael Thomas Ford’s Suicide Notes, and I am trying to decide what to read next. I’ve got the new Stephen King short story collection and a new queer horror anthology should be arriving at some point. I think my next read is going to be either Kellye Garrett, Lori Roy, or Angie Kim, but we’ll have to see what strikes my fancy when it’s time to start reading.

Paul was late getting home last night, so I spent most of the evening trying to get chores done; I did get the laundry done and I have another sink full of dishes to get taken care of, and I would really like this weekend to be utilized trying to get the apartment into some kind of decent shape. I may need to change the arrangement of the work space, too–last night I was sitting here and all I could think about was how closed in and claustrophobic I feel the way it is now; I thought this would make it better, but I was incorrect and I am not even sure what I was thinking, either. I guess I can just blame it on fog brain and depression or something, because I was clearly not in my right mind–and frankly, realizing this made me feel like myself again, which was unexpected yet lovely at the same time. Maybe I am right and it’s all cleared out of my brain and my chemistry up there is working properly again. One never knows, does one?

Louisiana’s descent into Gilead took a few extra steps this week, as our disgusting theocratic legislature passed laws making morning after pills and other abortion medications controlled substances. I’m not exactly sure precisely how long it will take a woman needing one to drive and get one–if Florida’s ballot initiative enshrines abortion into their constitution, not terribly far–but they’ve also passed bathroom laws to punish transpeople for needing to use a public restroom; Louisiana has learned nothing from the lessons of the civil rights movement (or losing the Civil War–by the way, they are putting some Confederate statues back up in some parishes, too). I am excited because Helena Moreno, who is on the city council, is running for mayor and she is all about women’s rights and queer equality. So, will New Orleans continue to hold out against the repressive government up I-10 in Baton Rouge, or will Lawless Landry try to come for the city? MY guess is he will try to come for the city; it’s never gone well for Louisiana before but Republicans never learn, they just stubbornly wait and try again. There’s going to be a massive brain drain, too–already there’s a shortage of OB/GYNs, and our infant mortality rate was already high. But never ever expect a Christian or a Republican to ever think anything through, because they never do and they don’t care about future repercussions from their bad policy.

It’s going to be interesting continuing to write the Scotty series while we have a governor and legislature trying to turn the state into a reactionary conservative theocracy…thanks again, corrupt Supreme Court; and thanks again to all third party votes from 2016. We tried to tell you it was about the Supreme Court, but no. So miss me with your third party bullshit this time around, too. And thanks again to Susan Sarandon, for all your work to ensure Democrats didn’t get elected to the White House in 2000 or 2016–the blood from this court’s decisions is on the hands of everyone who voted third party in both of those elections…which is how Alito, Roberts, Kavanaugh, Barrett, and Gorsuch are up there stripping our rights away from us–so miss me with your “I’m too progressive to vote Democrat but I’m an ally to marginalized people!” No, you’re not, and I hope your moral purity sustains you if we lose this election–and it is as bad as Project 2025 spells out in precise detail. An ally to marginalized communities would never throw their vote away as a protest–that ability comes from your fucking SMUG white privilege. In fact, that is the very definition of egomaniacal selfishness. How clear will your conscience be when the deporting starts, or if they round up queer people? Make a sign and beat your breast on social media? Fuck all the way off, and I hope you enjoy every minute of hell when you get there.

Definitely feeling a touch feisty this morning, don’t you think?

It was also very fun watching the LSU baseball game last night, as they defeated South Carolina to make it to the SEC semifinals last night 11-10. They’ve now beaten three top ten teams in a row in the tournament, setting them up very nicely for a post-season run as they try to make it two national championships in a row. I love the college baseball post-season, but I think I got really spoiled last year by that exciting title run LSU made and accomplished–and I know that jello-shot bar is hoping the Tigers make it back to Omaha this year.

And on that note, I am going to make another cup of coffee and start the dishes in the sink and laundering the bed linens. Have a great Friday, I may be back later as I am behind on posts, and if not, I will see you tomorrow morning!