Category: travel

My Best Friend’s Girl

Saturday morning and I should be waking up in a motel in Alabama instead of sitting at my desk in the Lost Apartment, yet here we are, you know? It’s gray out there this morning, but the sun is behind a few clouds. I just thought it more prudent not to drive up there until this is all over, and I don’t have to worry about flash flooding along 59N. I cannot imagine much worse than being stranded by weather in rural Mississippi, you know? Last night was the best night of sleep I had all week for some reason that I am not questioning but really am embracing. I do have some errands to do this morning, and I need to do some cleaning and get started on packing, too. There are games all day today on television, but looking at the schedule–I thought Georgia-Alabama was a night game, but according to the schedule I just consulted it’s the afternoon game. The morning game is A&M at Missouri, so…I can run errands this morning and have some things delivered. I was lethargic yesterday; I had the day off after my benefits meeting so I could drive north after, but the weather was too iffy and I really didn’t like that flash flood watch on 59N. I did manage to get the laundry done, though, and I did work on some other chores, but the kitchen and living room are still a mess, but that will give me something to occupy my time during games and half-time and so forth.

Oh, and GEAUX TIGERS! LSU plays at Kentucky tonight, and it should be a good game. Oh, the Texas-Oklahoma game is this afternoon, too. Like I said, lots of good games today.

We finished Neagley last night, which we both loved and hope there’s going to be another season on to infinity, it’s really that good. We got caught up on AHS:13, which has lost the plot but, you know, Jessica Lange and Angela Bassett, both of whom elevate their material. We also watched this week’s Traitors, which was fun and ended on an amazing cliff-hanger (as they always do; we won’t know who was murdered until next week), and finished Lanterns, which was also superb and probably the best DC television series–probably ever. Kyle Chandler and the entire cast is fantastic, but Aaron Pierre embodies John Stewart as well as Alan Ritchson does Reacher. Green Lantern was never one of my favorites (though I loved his team-up comic with Green Arrow, aptly titled Green Arrow/Green Lantern), but I did appreciate him–and I missed the time in the comics when Hal Jordan handed off to John Stewart and Guy Gardner, so was never sure how that played out or how we wound up with two of them–but I know John Stewart was around pre-Crisis, so yes, I missed that story.

If you’re also wondering how strong this Isaias storm is, they’ve closed Waffle Houses all over the panhandle and around Mobile, so yes, terrifying. And yes, the cost of gas is about to go up again, if it hasn’t already; storm in the gulf means jump in gas prices. Always.

Heavy sigh.

I do feel good this morning, and better about things in general. Yesterday, I was subjected to the ever-popular “shut up faggot and vote blue no matter who if you know what’s good for you” because I had the temerity to call out Democratic candidates who throw the queer community under the bus to pander to homophobic voters….who will never vote for your ass in the first place…and then not five minutes after the latest Democratic betrayal to have the nerve to send me an email asking for money “because we need to flip” Congress. Silly me, my thought was “you released a homophobic ad and you’re asking ME for money now? Go fuck yourself with a razor blade studded dildo, bitch; ask your TERF voters for money.” Oh, but queer people have to just suck it up and donate and vote blue no matter who but all you fucks who couldn’t bring yourselves for the Black woman because reasons but think we just have to eat a shit sandwich and hope she’s not one of them once elected? Bitch fucking please. How many times already have we seen this play out? Sinema, Fetterman, etc. Well, I don’t live in her state, just as I don’t live in the states where other so-called “progressive Democrats” have already walked back unflinching support; so, not a national candidate. Ask the homophobic voters you’re courting for money, because you’re not getting any of mine. Funny how candidates that are allies always have some other thing that doesn’t pass the “purity tests,” but homophobia is just fucking fine with these same people. Fuck them, fuck you, and if you can get elected, great–but don’t come fucking crying to me when your savior (remember Graham Platner? His homophobia wasn’t enough to derail with progressives, and they fought for him to the death despite all of his baggage…which inevitably blew up his campaign) turns out to be a narcissistic corrupt piece of shit.

And political influencers? They’re in this for clicks, likes, and subscriptions. I don’t trust any of them, and don’t much care for most.

Homophobes, or people who pander to them, are never progressives. You cannot be a progressive if you’re homophobic, racist, or misogynist or some combination of those. And if you think those are progressive values, enjoy Hell when you get there, because you’re a piece of utter shit.

Oh, don’t worry–ultimately, I am not going to be stupid and not vote, or vote Republican. Jamie Davis has a shot at breaking the MAGA stranglehold on Louisiana, and I am not sitting that out by any means. Do I know how Davis feels about queer equality and our community? No, I don’t–but I know I am voting for him anyway, just as I hope people will vote blue no matter who in other states. But I am already preparing myself for the inevitable settling of these progressive candidates into corporate moderates, like they always do, getting money under the table to sell out their constituents and supporters. But I realized that, yet again, I am voting for harm reduction.

Just one more time I’d like to vote for someone I can believe in, you know? I’m sick of voting for the lesser of two evils…and it’s not like the DNC gives two shits about us in Louisiana–where’s the money from the DNC for Jamie Davis and Angie Nixon? Schumer and Jeffries–both of whom need to be removed from leadership–are going to hobble anything if they have a majority these next two years, which is just long enough for them to write strongly worded emails and social media posts and nothing else so the country turns on them again just in time to vote MAGA back into power again in 2028. I haven’t given money to the DNC in years, because the milquetoast approach they’ve taken over the last twenty years has been an utter failure; I just give directly to candidates now.

I also think there’s way too much money in elections now. It’s become an industry. How is that good for we, the people? It’s not, actually.

And on that note, I am off to the spice mines for today. I need to figure out a plan for today, but first I’m going to check in on the news, see what’s happening with the storm, and have some breakfast. I will see you tomorrow morning before I drive north, Constant Reader. Have a great day!

Bye Bye Love

It’s now Friday morning with a storm taking aim at the Gulf Coast and I am driving northbound later. I have a benefits meeting on-line this morning before I can load up the car and head out on the highway (looking for adventure) later on. I’ll probably have to drive through rain, but Dad’s going to his high school’s football game so won’t be there until after I arrive (he got in last night). Yesterday was a pretty good day; it’s literally amazing what a difference getting a good night’s sleep can have on a person. I felt good all day, got a lot of stuff done at the office, and then departed to run my errands: food for Paul and the mail. I also picked up two books: Dr. Stacey Patton’s Strung Up: How White America Learned to Lynch Black Children, which is, I am sure, going to be a difficult if necessary read, and The Rush by Nathaniel Philbrick, about the California Gold Rush and the Civil War. I love Philbrick’s work–I do love some excellent history–and while I am trying to only read horror this month…Dr. Patton’s book certainly qualifies as real-life horror, doesn’t it? (And yes, the very first picture on the very first page is of the horribly damaged body of a lynching victim, in all of its horror and nastiness and inhumanity. When I do read and write about Dr. Patton’s book, I will probably call the entry Southern Discomfort.)

Yes, I was tired when I got home last night, dipping into this week’s Real Housewives of Salt Lake City while Sparky dozed deeply in a cat puddle in my lap. I suspect he’s going to miss me all week, but will be very glad to see me when I get home next Friday evening. I still have to pack–I have my annual benefits meeting from work on-line at nine this morning–and then I’ll get to cleaning up and packing. I’m probably taking too much with me to read and/or work on, but…there are worse things than not having enough to read or work on. The storm will come through Alabama where we’ll be tomorrow morning and afternoon; so we’ll probably be indoors watching football games tomorrow morning/afternoon. I’m going to take my time driving, and I am in no rush to leave. It may be rough–I may consider postponing the drive until Sunday morning–but…I think it’ll be okay. I won’t decide this morning–but if I am not here tomorrow morning, it’s because I am up there.

The books I need to read to moderate the panel in Baton Rouge arrived, and I am very intrigued–both are science-fiction young adult novels in series that appear to be space operas, a la Star Wars, which we all know is my jam. I do feel a little unqualified–I don’t think I’ve ever read y/a scifi before–because I am not a big scifi guy; not that I don’t like it, but I read mostly crime fiction. I’ve read the big scifi names–Azimov, Heinlein, the Dune series, etc.–and dabbled a bit in the lesser-knowns, always enjoyed it, and have definitely seen more film in the genre than read books. So, I am going to have to do some research, not only on the genre but my panelists as well, which is always fun, but will also interrupt my horror reading for the month, which I think I will extend into November since my October is being broken up by a trip and by having to read outside of horror. And then it’s Noirmas season!

Hopefully this trip is going to get me to a place where I can read regularly again. I am really looking forward to listening to Shadowlands in the car on the way up there, and then reading some more while I am up in Kentucky this coming week. I’m not sure what the week up there will hold for me–we may go exploring or sight-seeing, as Kentucky is both beautiful and historic; Dad and I went to two Civil War battlefields one time when I was up there, and of course I’ve always wanted to see Henry Clay’s home, and that of his brother–abolitionist Cassius Clay, whom Muhammed Ali was originally named after–which could be fun. I know we’ll probably do some Dad errands, and I’ll get to see my sister.

And I always enjoy the drive back to New Orleans from up there, too.

After further checking the weather, there’s a possibility–a strong one–of flash flooding along 59 north thru Mississippi today when I’d be driving through there, so yeah, going to wait until Sunday morning now–which gives me time to do the packing and cleaning and some errands and so forth. It also means I can have some things delivered tomorrow for Paul and all the pressure of hurrying has been reduced. Heavy sigh. That’s a good thing, and it also gives me more time to get things done before I leave Sunday morning, which is yet another plus.

Which means I will be here again tomorrow morning! So now, I am going to head into my meeting and the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow morning! See you then!

I do appreciate that he’s not waxed and completely hairless.

Just What I Needed

Thursday, with Isiais still loping along out there in the Gulf (of MEXICO). Last time I looked, we here in New Orleans are out of the danger zone, or so it seems. I’ve not yet checked this morning, but before I went to bed it was heading in more of a between-Mobile-and-Pensacola landfall, continuing north. As long as I leave New Orleans by one-ish, I should be able to miss any outer bands spinning our way. It will be weird to be in a massive thunderstorm up there in a motel, but probably pretty cozy. OKay, I checked and yes, New Orleans is outside of the cone completely, with that landfall still even further east a bit this morning. The storm won’t get up to where we’re staying until Saturday night, which should make the Georgia-Alabama game messy, to say the least. Should at least be interesting…I also wonder if the storm has changed Palpatine the Incompetent’s mind about attending; every home team he sees play loses, so Bama fans best hope their foul god changes his mind about going.

I finally slept well last night and feel rested and good this morning, at least for the moment. I was very tired yesterday when I got off work, but did manage to run an errand and do some chores when I got home. Tonight I’ll need to start packing for tomorrow–I can’t believe it’s tomorrow already–so hopefully I’ll have a good night’s sleep tonight as well. I got some of the things done on my list that needed to be done before I leave, which was cool–hopefully today I’ll be able to do the same again–and leave town with a clear conscience. Shadowlands is queued up on my Spotify to listen to, and I am going to take some things with me to write/work on while I’m gone, so we can see how that all works out, too. I’m coming back next Friday, so I’ll be gone a week–and pretty much out of pocket for that time; not even sure that I’ll be able to keep this up while I am gone. Maybe I can also get some newsletters out; stranger things have happened.

It is so amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. I feel so good this morning! It may not last of course; sometimes it works out that way. Usually I am already tired going into the work day, but after having restless sleep most of the week, sleeping well made a huge difference. Good thing, because I need to be productive today, both at home and at work. I have to run errands after work tonight, and may have one to run on my way out of town tomorrow morning. I’ve got a list of things to get Paul to eat during my absence, and of course, I don’t want to leave behind a messy apartment to come home to, which always kind of sucks. I also want to do some more editing work before I leave, and work on a short story. We watched another episode of Neagley last night, which was amazing; maybe we can finish it tonight before I leave. We also still haven’t watched the finale of Lanterns yet, which is also amazing; we got so caught up in Neagley that we don’t really want to watch much of anything else until it’s done.

Sigh. I am going to take a lot of stuff with me on this trip, only to end up not doing any of it, aren’t I? But…better to have it with me in case I want to work on it. If I don’t take it, I’ll want to; if I do take it, I won’t. I am also probably packing too many books to take with me, too. I’m not sure what all we’re going to get up to while I’m in Kentucky, but generally I end up not having a lot of time until after eight-ish or so to do anything with; but I should be able to get some of my horror reading out of the way, at the least. I’ll probably finish Shadowlands in the car on the way up, and will probably pick out another horror to listen to on the way home; there’s a few more books in Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield series, which I absolutely love. And I still have to rewatch A Nightmare on Elm Street for the first time since I first saw it back in college.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, heat up my breakfast sandwich, and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow before I hit the road.

The St. Roch chapel supposedly helps cure the disabled, who then leave their prosthetics behind….

Impressive Instant

Friday morning and in a bit I am off to the office for a meeting before I run errands on my way home. It has been a pretty decent week, in all honesty. I didn’t sleep as well as I would have preferred, but that happens, and I think I was drinking coffee after twelve noon the last couple of days, which could be the cause. Caffeine and I walk a very thin line together; too much makes me sick, and if I drink any after noon I won’t sleep as well. So it goes in the life of a senior citizen. But I did sleep through the night, and feel pretty rested and good this morning (I think my body doesn’t know I am going to the office in a moment, or maybe the extra hour this morning made a huge difference).

It did rain a bit yesterday (and more so while I slept, given how wet everything outside appears to be), and now that I work in a testing room with a window (it faces Elysian Fields1) the temptation to just sit there and watch the rain is very powerful. I am a sucker for rain, always have been, which is yet another reason I love living in New Orleans. I lived in California for eight years and I can’t even remember it raining there, which was awful. The rains of Houston, where I moved next, were awesome though. Unfortunately, that meant the humidity returned after it stopped and the sun came back out. Wednesday it was in the 80s most of the day, but when I left the office it was pleasant out–meaning no humidity–and it wasn’t hot inside the car, either. I managed to get home and into the house without breaking a sweat, and it’s been months since that last happened.

Well, the always problematic Joyce Carol Oates showed her entire flat, unwashed ass by claiming the only genre where AI would be useful would be romance–which she claimed was formulaic and thus of no value, apparently–which is such a disgusting thing for any woman to say, especially one as famous and respected and praised as Joyce Carol Oates. Way to shit on an entire genre, which is predominantly for women and dominated by women. Surely, Ms. Oates doesn’t mean to imply that she hasn’t written anything formulaic, does she? Because I cannot believe every single thing that has come out of her typewriter has been so completely original and never done or tried before and had has advanced modern literature by breaking new and important literary territory? Or is she just another one of those women who dislike other women? I know some of her buddies are misogynist pigs, and despite all evidence that her buddies are garbage, she proudly stands by them. Probably thinks she’s also a feminist while playing pick-me to be one of the guys. I don’t write romance, but I know a snobby bitch when I see one. I don’t need to boycott her because seeing her clearly as a tool of the patriarchy, I stopped reading her.

And I don’t kiss anyone’s ass, no matter how “powerful” they appear to be. It’s easy to shit on a genre when you’ve never written in it–and frankly, because a HEA is de rigeur, romance writers also excel at character, dialogue and place; no one’s going to read a romance that doesn’t affect their emotions because then it wouldn’t be a romance. I would like to challenge every elitist writer who thinks romance is a joke genre to write one. Let’s see exactly how easy it is, shall we? I remember a few years ago when that South American literary writer wrote a thriller “as a joke” but then published it; shitting all over our genre because, you know, she’s so above it. Turned out mystery fans weren’t going to support a snotty, arrogant elitist bitch anymore than a romance fan would.

I may not write romance, and I don’t read a lot of it. But I have edited a lot of romance novels, I appreciate the skills and talents of romance authors, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for them. I may write one someday, not to see if I can make “easy money” (there’s no such thing in this business), but to see if I can actually do it well. I like challenging myself when I write, and I think writing a romance would be a great challenge for me. Someday. I need to finish the current book and write another Scotty before I start the horror novel I’m itching to start writing.

You come for the romance genre through me, bitch.

I didn’t do much around here last night when I got home because I was tired. I came straight home and crashed out immediately into my chair with Sparky in my lap, and I just kind of zoned out with the news–both national and football. Today is my last full day in the office for the week–we have an in-person meeting tomorrow morning–but the good news is the house isn’t in bad shape, and so won’t take me long this weekend to set to rights. I am dragging a bit this morning, which is to be expected on a Thursday morning, right? I slept pretty well the last two nights and have no trouble getting up in the mornings, but I remain a bit tired throughout the day, and maybe not as alert as I would like by the time I get home every night? Thursday nights usually are nights when I don’t do much of anything; but I do have to get up early tomorrow for the meeting. I need to get back to work on writing fiction–the book and some other short stories, but it’s the newsletter essays I’ve been enjoying writing the most lately, which is odd–but I also think writing those is helping me improve on my skills.

Yesterday was also October 1st and the official start of Halloween Horror Month, when most of my reading and streaming will (and should be) horror. I definitely want to watch Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street again, and maybe pick up on some new ones. I really wish Friday the 13th-the Series was available to stream somewhere, because I’d love to watch it all again; I don’t think I ever saw the entire show. But the antique store of cursed objects–and having to track the objects down before they start killing people–was a most excellent concept, and while the show was done on the cheap–it was syndicated back before money was put into syndicated shows–the few episodes I’ve been able to track down on Youtube are a bit hokey, but there’s still a lot of fun to watch. I love dedicating the entire month to horror; even my juvenile rereads this month will have to do with hauntings, methinks. I think AHS:13 airs its entire season by the end of October, which is nice. It’s also weird to think next Friday I’ll be heading up to Alabama for Mom and Dad’s birthdays, and then up to Kentucky for the rest of that following week. This month is going to fly by, isn’t it? And then it’s November and then Christmas and then Mardi Gras and it’s March before I know it.

And ugh, I agreed to moderate a panel at the Louisiana Book Festival, so I have to do two things up there this year. Given the cost of gas, more bang for my buck is probably a good thing. I’ll probably end up going up on Friday and spending the night; there’s an opening party that night I usually skip, but I’d rather do that then get up early Saturday and drive up there…which means booking a room. Add that to my lengthy to-do list.

The local New Orleans gay community is up in arms over something I cannot really speak to without making the following disclaimer: I do not speak for my day job, I am not authorized to speak on behalf of my day job, and I am speaking here solely as myself–Greg Herren, the local gay author who has lived here for over thirty years, moving here before there was life-saving treatment for HIV. If you want to see what’s going on, feel free to go on Facebook and look at either the Queer New Orleans page or certain Quarter bars. I can’t speak on the situation and again do not speak for the agency where I work, but I would like to thank the local gay community for your support and the pushback against the businesses attacking us. I forget sometimes how important we are to the community here, how much good we’ve done (and continue to do), and how much the community actually appreciates us. I thank you, and the supportive commentary I’ve seen was touching–and you know how cold and dead inside I am.

And you know, even if I didn’t work where I do, I would also be grateful to my agency. As a sixty-five year old gay man who lived through the worst of the plague days, I have nothing but respect and appreciation for any organization that does HIV work. Anyone who doesn’t? Absolute trash–and if they ever seroconverted, you can bet your ass they’d be beating down our doors2 for our help.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning while I wait for the thunderstorms.

  1. The street, not the land of the heroic dead. ↩︎
  2. And this, for the record, is why you never fucking hire straight people to run gay businesses. Period. ↩︎

Runaway Lover

Thursday and it’s not my last day in the office for the week; I have a department meeting tomorrow that I need to come in for. I may stay for a few hours after and do some work here, but on the other hand I may just get back in the car and head home. I guess we’ll see how I feel, but it would be incredibly convenient to get all my errands out of the way. We’re supposed to start getting rain from Polo tomorrow, and continue with flooding rains all weekend…so I am not going to want to leave the house that often. I do have to go get my vaccines Saturday morning–I figured if they make me woozy again like they always do, it’s better to be home. LSU’s game is against McNeese State Saturday night–their fifth night game in a row–and I think a lot of the other games this season will be at night again. All the media alarm bells after the Mississippi loss subsided with the trouncing of Texas A&M last week, but…the remaining schedule remains brutal.

Well, Sparky closed my browser for me (thanks, babe!) and I lost three paragraphs of this entry which I will now try to reconstruct. Sigh.

I was tired when I got home from work yesterday, Sparky was needy, and I just needed to sit for a minute last night before doing anything, but I got sucked into the news–both national and football–and several wormholes (is it just me, but are Youtube videos becoming more and more AI-generated?) opened up for me before I switched over to this HBO documentary series about Warner Brothers–and old Hollywood stuff always works as research for the book. I went to bed shortly after that, and didn’t do a damned bit of chores at all. The apartment is still pretty well kept-up, but there’s some cosmetic cleaning that needs doing, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded and reloaded again, and there’s another load of laundry that needs doing, too. I’ll have to take care of some of that tonight so this weekend I can primarily focus on writing and deeper cleaning issues (baseboards, etc.). The house is also currently being painted, so much as I would like to go outside in this cooler clime to clean the windows…probably not going to happen until the house is finished being painted. (I have to negotiate an obstacle course most days when I get home to get into the house.)

Today is also the first day of Halloween Horror Month, in which I try to make sure all my reading and streaming needs are horror-related. I know I am going to revisit Halloween and A Nightmare on Elm Street–always excellent choices–and it’s always fun to dip into horror, which I need to read more of. I am going to listen to Shadowland by Peter Straub on my trip next Friday to Alabama/Kentucky–can you believe it’s next week already? I can’t–and will take some other horror along to read while I am up there. I am going to start reading The House That Horror Built, and I think on the way home i may listen to a Grady Hendrix novel.

I also need to get back to writing, either on short stories or on the book. I’ve been focusing a lot on writing nonfiction–the newsletters–and while I have really been enjoying doing that (and my writing is improving, which is always a delightful thing), I need to get back on the fiction horse. I’ve kind of been letting my creativity recharge, after finishing that story last weekend, but I definitely need to be climbing back into the saddle again. Maybe tomorrow, during the rains. We’re supposed to get up to five inches over the next few days–but we shouldn’t have any flooding concerns if the rain is spread out. Five inches in two hours or less and the city is underwater.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely Friday Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before my meeting. See you then!

My God, Alan Ritchson is just ridiculously handsome.

Red Vision

Thursday, last day of work this week and I get to leave at two thirty. Huzzah! Holiday Weekend Eve, I suppose this is. I slept well and feel rested this morning, which is good. We’re slow in the clinic today and the way my hours worked out, I get to leave around three this afternoon, too–which is also pretty cool and a lovely way to segue into the holiday weekend. Huzzah! I was able to come home directly from the office yesterday, too, and managed to empty the dishwasher to get a leg up on the chores I’ll need to do this weekend. I did manage to get a newsletter out yesterday, which you can read by clicking here. It’s about my reread of Margot Douaihy’s Blessed Water (relisten?) on my trip last weekend, and I really need to finish reading Lev Rosen’s Rough Pages, which I started listening to on the drive back and got to Chapter Eight before getting home and turning off the car. I feel pretty good this morning, which is nice. I know we’re slow today in the clinic, and I definitely need to do a lot of paperwork today–I’m behind again, and our site visit will be coming up soon, either next week or the one after–so I have plenty to keep me occupied at the office today, which is fine with me. I get to leave around two, so the day is going to fly past. I don’t think we’re in a heat advisory today (I’ve not seen anything on line or on my phone so far1) and according to the “forecast,” we’re getting some thunderstorms this afternoon right around when I will be leaving, so that’s great. Since I am leaving so early today, I am thinking about running some errands so I won’t have to do anything tomorrow–but on the other hand, I could just have some things delivered, which is easier still.

Something to think about, at any rate.

Last night we watched this week’s Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which I don’t see anyone talking much about, which is a shame. It’s really good and I am enjoying it. After that, we caught up on the news but I was falling asleep in my chair so I went to bed shortly after nine and slept deeply and well, only getting up once in the middle of the night before going back to a very sound sleep. I’ve not been very productive this week, but that was because last weekend’s truncation was mentally fatiguing, I guess. I’ve not had much creative thought this week, and I need to get back into the saddle again, I think. Reading tonight and possibly trying to write too should be helpful, and tomorrow I think I will try to be as productive as I can be so I can use Saturday as a holiday and just rest and watch movies and read. I have another newsletter I need to get out tomorrow, and another one to write this weekend (or when I finish Rough Pages). I also want to write one for the holiday, and talk about the difference between the Bicentennial and this 250th disgrace we are witnessing as taxpayer money disappears into a massive grift, like everything MAGA touches. If you can’t capitalize on the stupidity of your cult, why bother having one?

I also need to be even kinder to myself. Of course I am going to be drained emotionally and mentally when I come back from visiting my mother’s grave!

Oy. The depth and totality of my utter and complete obliviousness is really astounding at times.

I saw a debut author had apparently lost their mind on social media and starting doxxing–and encouraging her followers to go after some book club that didn’t like her book. Way to end your career as it’s just getting started. Yes, when you’re new that sort of thing absolutely stings and hurts, and it makes you worry if people will read the review and not read your book. It doesn’t matter in the long run–how many one-stars has James Patterson or Dan Brown gotten? And how has it slowed them down? The answer is not at all. You can’t embrace good reviews while being upset by bad ones, and nothing is a faster trip down the lane of complete and utter insanity than letting reviews get under your skin. I know I used to when I was new, and maybe one will sting when I come across it, but I don’t comment, I don’t bring attention to it, and I dismiss it and don’t even think about it again. I remember one bad review for my first book., and I use it as an example because the end result of that review was me making Scotty being even gayer than I had originally planned…you think Chanse is a stereotype? I”ll show you a fucking stereotype!

And interestingly enough, Scotty–the biggest gay stereotyped character ever written by a gay crime writer–has never been called one by a reviewer.

This is why I no longer read reviews, and have never ventured into the shark-infested waters of Goodreads.

The on-going war between New Orleans and Baton Rouge continues. It’s interesting living under the state’s version of racist homophobic MAGA fascism. I also believe our pos shit Attorney General (who may appear under a slightly different name in the next Scotty book) should be stripped of her law degree because she refuses to abide by either the state or federal constitution and consistently thinks she somehow has the right to tell New Orleans what it can or cannot do; our state Supreme Court all has their head up the Governor’s flat crusty unwashed ass, too and SCOTUS? Not much better.

Sigh. Happy upcoming 4th of July weekend to you, too. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader and hang in there; resist resist resist. I’ll be here again tomorrow morning, without fail.

I love this drone shot of canoers on a bayou in the Atchafalaya Swamp. Ben Pierce is a great Louisiana landscape photographer; check out his website. I always get his calendars. I would love to write about the Atchafalaya swamp someday and its Cajun history.
  1. I stand corrected; we are in a heat advisory until (or if) the rains come. ↩︎

The Victim

Monday morning, you sure feel fine!1 I actually feel decent this morning, if a bit on the groggy side. I was very low energy yesterday, too, sadly; I did get the laundry done but didn’t do much of anything else. We watched more Citadel, but I didn’t have much bandwidth to read or write or do a whole lot. That’s okay, though; I must have needed the down time doing nothing so I’m not beating myself up about it anymore. The heat is going to be miserable for the summer, so I need to just strap myself in and deal with it. Hopefully, I won’t feel as drug out the rest of the week as I do this morning. Friday is a holiday again, too. I just have to get through this week, don’t I? I think we’re busy all week in the clinic too, and I also think I am working by myself most days…and I am likely to end up working by myself in the clinic permanently. Ah, well, it’s only for five more years, right? Then again, I may not survive the next round of budget cuts, either. Always lovely at my age to consider…

Sigh.

My energy is getting better the longer I am awake and the more coffee I consume, which is about par for the course, methinks. I think as I am home longer and get acclimated back to my real life more, I’ll probably start recovering more and feeling more awake and rested and productive. I still have a dishwasher to unload and a sink full of dirty dishes to take care of, “tis life, I suppose. I probably could have (or should have) taken today off, but I also don’t know why I was so worn out when I got home. I didn’t drive that much, and I got very good sleep while I was there. Who knows? Maybe I didn’t eat enough–always a possibility when I travel–and that’s what caused this lethargy. Probably just the disruption to my normal existence, more like.

We also watched Southern Gothic, a documentary series about horrific murders in the south2, getting through the entire season before we knew it. We actually also finished Citadel last night, which is a shame, but that last episode definitely set up the next season. I did have my journal in hand, but didn’t write more than just free associating scribbles. I need to get back on my writing horse and get some of these things I am working on either finished (short story drafts) or serious progress (the book) has been made. I did think about the book while I was driving–those books were amazing–and now just have to get reoriented at work and get my feet down on the ground in the normality of my life again. I need to make groceries–I don’t have anything to bring for lunch tomorrow–and at some point I need to get the mail.

Today’s title, while a song from Pat Benatar’s Seven the Hard Way album (which I need to listen to again at some point; I’ve been revisiting her classic albums in the car lately and enjoying them), has also been used, repeatedly, as a title for books, stories and films. I remember one, a made-for-TV movie with Elizabeth Montgomery in the early 1970s, that I particularly enjoyed, and I’ve always wanted to write a book or story using either “the Victim” or “Victim” as a title. Just using it again here has made me start thinking about a story that would fit said title; but it would have to be complicated and twisty. I’ll probably freestyle some scribbling in my journal this week about it, which could be a lot of fun, methinks.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Sorry to be a bit dull, I promise I’ll be more interesting in the future, okay? Have a great Monday, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’ll be your victim!
  1. From “Monday Morning,” written by Lindsey Buckingham for Fleetwood Mac, 1976. ↩︎
  2. It is amazing how many preachers sleep with married women and then murder their husbands. ↩︎

Little Too Late

Home again, home again. It’s hot as Satan’s taint here in New Orleans–Alabama was cool and lovely in comparison and it was hot as fuck up there–I was drenched in sweat getting the car unloaded; something was going on in the ‘hood yesterday because I had to park at Coliseum Square and walk back, which exhausted me and so I just collapsed into my chair and sat there for a bit before showering and relaxing for the evening. We got caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which is absolutely delightful (Tatiana Maslany never disappoints; how she didn’t win an Emmy for every season of Orphan Black is yet another example of how wrong they often are) and then a few episodes of Citadel. I slept in this morning a bit, which was also nice, but I feel a bit worn out this morning. I slept very well last night, too. I did sleep well in Alabama, and I am glad I got to spend time with Dad; even if it was so brief. I didn’t do much of anything up there other than hang out with Dad and sleep, but it was nice.

I was very lucky with my parents for the most part.

The drives up and back were lovely and uneventful. I listened to Margot Douaihy’s marvelous Blessed Water in the car, and got to chapter eight listening to Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages, which is also excellent–for the record, queer crime writers are consistently knocking it out of the park, people, what are you doing? READ them. On the way up I stopped in Ellisville to get gas an they had a Jack’s (their hamburgers are good good good so you’ll go back back back for more more more) so I ate there. New development on the drive up–my legs stiffened on both drives, making walking when I got out more difficult than it needed to be, but that can also be chalked up to Greg is now so fucking out of shape it’s like he never worked out in his life ever. I stopped at the Love’s at Mile 24 in Mississippi and brought Arbys home for dinner. Paul very kindly washed the bed linens yesterday so I came home to fresh and clean bedding, which was so marvelous. I slept for almost eleven hours last night, and I cannot remember the last time I did that. I feel a bit rung out this morning, but that’s the sleep hangover and some muscle tightness in my legs. Gee, Greg, why don’t you just stretch?

I am oft times oblivious and clueless.

I’m not sure if I am going to do any writing today; like I said, I feel a bit worn today, so I don’t know how that is going to play out. I do need to do some work on the kitchen and living room, too, and some laundry. A rest day to do absolutely nothing would have been lovely, but if I get it all done quickly–and focus–I can get it all under control in a couple of hours…but I really want to get back to reading Rough Pages. I’d like to do my essay on Blessed Water today, but that’s going to depend on my energy levels and how much I can get done around the house, too. I am going to at least finish the chapter I started in the car yesterday and possibly another.

One of the nice things about these trips is they enable me to disconnect from the world’s insanity and get some perspective on things. (The “State Fair” is another humiliation for him and the country; the Lyon County Fair back in Kansas had higher attendance (and better rides and activities)…a county fair. State fairs are a bigger deal than this “national” one. I can’t seem to remember Gerald Ford making the Bicentennial about him, or him coming up with an “alternative” Bicentennial he could make money from…but Republicans in the 1970s put country before party nor were they a insurrectionist movement looking to install fascism back then….these Republicans would have let Nixon serve out his second term. All of where we are now is a result of Reagan, whose money and power above all else mentality began the tribalism, and brought us Newt Gingrich and the divine right of Republicans to rule.

Sigh. And catching up on the news after three glorious days makes it all the more surreal, you know?

And on that note, I am heading for the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Stay cool!

Bayou sunsets are so gorgeous! I highly recommend they use this color next as the Reflecting Pool cycles through the Pride flag.

Looking for a Stranger

Today’s title sounds like one of my old erotica stories from back in the day, and I am really disappointed that I never used it (makes note in journal).1 Yesterday was pleasant, overall. I was pretty busy at the office during the day, but was able to come straight home from work, which was lovely. I really don’t want to come home to a messy house on Saturday, but we’ll see how motivated I am when I get home tonight. I am leaving tomorrow morning (when I feel like it), and so I think I’ll wait to pack until then, too. I am only going to be gone two nights, so I don’t need to take everything under the sun with me, because I never end up being able to do much of anything other than read before going to sleep at night. I think I’ll just pack the iPad and the book I am reading, and we’ll see how it all goes. I doubt that I’ll be back here until Saturday night or Sunday morning; stranger things, however, have been known to happen, you know. Although I am not sure now if I’m going. A relative (one of his upteen cousins) passed and the funeral was Monday; Dad drove down for that and apparently drove back to Kentucky yesterday. It seems a bit weird for him to do that only to drive seven hours back, so he probably already went to Mom’s grave and I will have a four-day at home unexpected staycation. See the difference not having anxiety any more makes? I would be stressed and tense, wondering about tomorrow and risking obsessively texting. So, either I drive up there and see Dad in Alabama, or I stay here in New Orleans with a glorious four day weekend, and I have to confess, the more I think about it and the more coffee I swill down this morning, the more I like the idea of being home. I could get some rest and get thoroughly caught up on everything and could maybe even do a deep clean on the house. So, either option is roses. I also am not sure how busy we are today, but I do know that I’m in the clinic by myself.

I was a bit tired when I got home from work yesterday and didn’t do a whole hell of a lot. I did scribble in my journal some, but we started watching the new season of House of the Dragon, which…continues to be boring and slow? I mean, a lot happened, but at the same time, it didn’t seem like anything was happening. I am also not vested in any of the characters, and don’t care who ends up on the Iron Throne, and the only characters I feel anything for? That feeling is loathing. I guess we’re hate watching for the dragons and the production values? It is visually stunning, though. The show just feels very drawn out for some reason. I don’t know why we aren’t more engaged, and it does feel like we’re watching because we watched Game of Thrones and are used to it? (It was an amazing show until it went completely off the rails.) Even the battles are kind of dull, and considering how epic the ones in Game of Thrones were…

Apparently eleven people in Louisiana have been hospitalized for drinking raw milk. How can we convince these people that if they take arsenic or strychnine, they’d really own the libs? (Arsenic, after all, is very good for your skin in small doses; Victorian women used to take it for that purpose…so it wouldn’t be a hard sell to anyone with Mar-a-Lago face, would it? Now, I will say I’ve had raw milk before–family of farmers, remember? And I did like it–but not so much that I would risk getting hospitalized for it. It was very rich and thick and creamy–but nowadays most people think whole milk is too thick…I grew up drinking whole milk and switching to skimmed was like going from heavy cream to milk-flavored water–but now I even find whole milk unappetizing.

I have heard from Dad; the trip is still on. He is definitely driving back down tomorrow, but I won’t have to leave until the afternoon so I can get some stuff done around the house and I don’t have to get up early. It should be a nice day for a drive, too. I’ll stop on the way up to eat, and I’ll take my time as there is no rush; the drives all the way to Kentucky are so long they do require an early departure time or else I’ll get there so late I’ll be sleepy in the car–which I do get anyway because twelve hours is a lot, but I think the last time I drove to Kentucky it didn’t bother me at all? But the later I get there the sleepier I am, and of course if I take any kind of stimulant–coffee, energy drink, etc.–I won’t sleep at all that night.

And I may finally be used to my schedule. FINALLY, right? I woke up this morning again before the alarm, and got to cuddle with Sparky for a bit before getting up. I kind of just took my time this morning getting ready to go with no semblance of urgency; which was also very nice. I love this lack of anxiety! Hurray for better living through chemistry!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before I head north!

A lot of people like Tucks because it’s literally all toilet humor, but I am no longer in junior high so I usually skip it.
  1. It occurs to me that I could actually republish old short stories on my newsletter. Hmmm. Something to ponder for sure. ↩︎

Silent Partner

Tuesday and we made it through Monday, did we not? Huzzah!

Today’s weather is ungodly hot; we’re still in a heat advisory and the temperature today will feel like 106. It was ninety-nine degrees outside yesterday when I left work. It actually didn’t feel that bad–thank the Lord for air conditioning; again, I don’t know how anyone could have lived here before electricity–and I don’t think I’m yet getting used to it or anything, since it hasn’t been this hot since last summer. Last night we also had a weird situation with our power–there was a surge or something, and after it happened, the lights were dim, the washing machine couldn’t run, and more crucially, the air conditioning wasn’t coming on, either, and it was getting warm in here when I went to bed. The power went off about ten thirty and stayed off for a minute or so, before the power came roaring back on. Right now, the load of laundry that was delayed overnight is running, the lights are very bright, and it’s the proper summer indoor temperature. This will be one of those summers, I think, where the air can’t keep up with the heat.

I finally finished and posted my newsletter about how one of my many favorite juvenile series, featuring Ken Holt, was pretty homoerotic. Just click anywhere on the blue and it’ll take you right there. Hope you click, and hope you enjoy, and maybe even subscribe? It is absolutely one hundred percent free. It also lightly touched on something that I’ve been thinking about since watching Half Man; it’s also entirely possible something resonated in me while watching that I may have projected onto the show–which is part of the reason I’ve not written about it yet, because I am still digesting everything from watching. I think I am going to have to rewatch some of it so I can write about it more clearly and not so much from memory. And who knows? I may never write about it if I can never think about it more cohesively, and structurally.

I wasn’t tired when I got home from work, and loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen some. I picked up the mail and made some groceries on the way home, too; it was strange how little traffic there was yesterday, both in the morning and after work. I love when school is out for summer. It’s wild what an impact that has on city traffic–not that our traffic is really worth complaining about, because it’s rarely stop-and-go, other than the ramp from I-10 West to 90–and even that wasn’t too bad yesterday–the ramp to the river bridge wasn’t backed up as far as it usually is and the right lane–which I take to head uptown on Claiborne–was empty except for the assholes who don’t think they should wait like everyone else and jumps the line of cars. Paul wasn’t feeling well–he hasn’t these last couple of days–but the weather has been particularly nasty during that same time period. The humidity is back, of course, and the air conditioning felt wonderful this morning when I got up. I couldn’t find my wallet (left it in the car like an idiot) which also had me a bit off-balance, but I did manage to sleep very well, woke up before the alarm (a good thing, because I had reset the clock and fucked up am v. pm), and of course, Sparky was his usual loving “I’m hungry” self this morning. He’s such a spoiled little fella.

I am thinking that the “darling” I wrote on the book this weekend may actually fit into the story, after all. I am going to go ahead and complete it, I think, and we’ll see where it goes from there. I have some ideas, too, and I am very pleased with myself and the book, too. While it may be what I consider a more commercial idea than what I usually write, that doesn’t influence what I want to write and what I want to do, which is probably not the smartest way to be an author, I suppose. I’ve also kind of accepted, going into it, that I was never going to have any huge success and I was fine with that, honestly; had I wanted to make big money as a writer I wouldn’t be writing about queer life. It was not the right choice for that, really, nor have I ever been arrogant enough to think that I would be the exception. So, I’ll just go on doing what I am doing, stumbling through a long publishing career which has to be respected for the longevity, if nothing else, not knowing what I am doing, and not caring if an idea that seizes my imagination and creativity is commercial or not.

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

It’s so rare to see someone built like this who hasn’t waxed, shaved and plucked off all of his body hair.