Category: writing

Crying in the Chapel

And here we are on a glorious Saturday morning, feeling rested and relaxed and pretty good this morning. My coffee is tasting most excellent, and my kitchen is already clean this morning. I had a good day yesterday. I did my at-home work and then ran some errands before coming home to do some cleaning around here. This morning I am up relatively early and feeling good. I got all the laundry done, and am about to clear out the kitchen sink again before going to work on the floors. I do have to leave the house today later; I have to get charcoal and some other things, and might as well pick up the mail while I am out. Next weekend I am taking Monday and Tuesday off for my birthday, which will be very lovely and cool. And now that my deductible is paid off for my insurance, I can get all this other health stuff (dermatologist, arthritis doctor, bone density test) taken care of before the end of the year. I also need to see an eye doctor and get new glasses.

Obviously, I need a to-do list.

And it was super-great to see Algerian boxer Imane Khelif win the gold medal after all the incorrect and disgusting hate directed at her because the Chatelaine of Castle TERF decided that Imane wasn’t woman enough for her to compete in women’s sports, and so the evil Sith Lady decided to humiliate and embarrass an athlete on the world stage just because she could and she felt she wasn’t getting enough attention. How…Trumpian of Joanne/Robert! And refusing to admit she was wrong because of course she can never be. After all, she is a wealthy woman, and as we all know, billionaires are never wrong. It really is amazing how much people think making a lot of money somehow gives you some kind of moral authority to comment on things that do not affect or impact you at all. At least more people around the world can now see just how awful she actually has become–or has hidden her true horrible self successfully for so long and has become so narcissistic that she believes her own beliefs should be adapted without challenge. It’s also Elon Musk-like, as well.

At least the Olympics accomplished two things: they gave me a lot of trash to block on social media, and also got me to finally delete my Twitter account. I do not miss it in the least.

Today is the Red Dress Run, so the city (especially the Quarter) will be filled with people in red dresses, day drinking. I don’t do the Red Dress Run, obviously–it started up after I stopped going out every weekend and stopped drinking fo the most part–because it’s simply too hot and if I was out drinking in the heat in the morning and early afternoon it would take me about a week to recover from it all. Not cute.

It’s really amazing what a good mood I woke up to this morning. It would be awesome to wake up feeling like this every Saturday morning, believe me. I’m definitely going to work on the kitchen this morning, and I am going to spend some time reading this morning as well. I started reading a short story at my doctor’s office last week, and I need to finish reading that as well as get back into the book I’m reading (I’m not mentioning the title because I don’t want it to sound like the book isn’t good; it’s entirely on my malfunctioning brain that I’ve not finished it yet; I need to prime the reading pump a bit today to get it going again). I also no longer have this sense of impending doom that’s been hanging over my head since the rude awakening I got about my country and fellow citizens in 2016; thank you, Harris-Walz presidential ticket! And not having that dark cloud in my brain–the sense of hopelessness and mistrust of the heterosexual majority in this country–has been marvelous. It’s not over, and we’re going to have to work really hard to make sure that darkness doesn’t win here. The UK and France are doing a great job of taking down their fascist movements; may we follow the world trend towards freedom and equality. It’s nice to feel hope again, you know?

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for a while today. I am hoping that today will continue on this high note, and I hope that it does for you as well, Constant Reader. I may be back later; I am working on several other entries that will go up on Substack and possibly here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see how the day goes, and how much cuddle time Sparky will demand.

Wooly Bully

Friday and working at home. I have a team meeting at ten on-line this morning along with other various work-at-home duties; I also have errands to run later on when everything is finished. I feel rested this morning, despite getting up so damned early (Sparky was very insistent this morning), and so while I swill my coffee and wake up, I can hopefully do some things around here, too, before I get to work. The kitchen isn’t nearly as bad as it usually is on Friday mornings, so I don’t have to start there this weekend to straighten up the house, which is very exciting. I’m going to try very hard this weekend not to succumb to the temptations of doing little to nothing. The boil water advisory was lifted yesterday, and today’s heat index will max out at 109. I was able to come straight home after work yesterday, which was really nice, and I spent the evening getting caught up on the day’s news before switching over to the Olympics. I always hate when they come to an end, and they really are uplifting and fun to watch; inspiring. (I bet there will be a lot of Olympic romances published next year.)

I do have that figure skating short story…it’s kind of noirish. Maybe I should revisit it?

The next Olympics will be in Los Angeles, just like in 1984. I lived in California then, and to this day I regret not applying to work at the games. But…it was a different time and a different world, too.

I came to the conclusion last night that part of the problem I am/was having with writing Never Kiss a Stranger was that old one-two punch of writer’s brain: fear that I’d fuck up telling the story, and fear that it won’t be the book that I want it to be. Which is absurd on its face; and haven’t I felt that way about every book I’ve written more than once during the process of creating the story? Maybe it’s different for the big names, but I am never fearless when I am writing something. I’ve never heard any of my friends who are writers I deeply admire and respect ever feel a lack of confidence in their work, or in their ability to tell the story they want to tell. I think that is definitely something I need to work on, and I don’t feel afraid about writing the book now, so hopefully that is progress. I think taking this Olympic break from writing was perhaps one of the smartest things I’ve done as an adult. I am itching to get back to it, I let my mind rest and heal, and my body had settled into my routine at long last. Likewise, I have to get back to reading every day, so I can get caught up on my reading, at least from this year. I am so far behind on so many of my friends’ and favorite authors’ books; but at least I know that I have some great books to read through the end of the year. And yes, I think I am going to do some reading this weekend.

I kind of feel good about things. I like that I am establishing boundaries, and enforcing them. I like that I am digging out of the hole and rut and everything else of the last few years. I like my life now that I have time to kick back and enjoy it, and relax without guilt. I like my job, I love writing, I am finally getting the apartment into a nice, comfortable living space by clearing out the clutter so no one will have to after I depart this world. I am back learning how to cook new recipes, and having quite a good time doing so. The heat is tiring, of course, and that also affects how I get things done after I get home, but the summer will be ending fairly soon and then I can get back into the swing of some other things, like regular workouts and things of that nature. I am making progress on my debt, which is also pretty great.

So, on that cheerful and hopeful note, I am going to head into the spice mines. You go on and have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later on.

Don’t Stop Believin’

Thursday morning and last day in the office this week. I think I have a prescription to pick up; I neede to call and see if it’s ready or not during the day today. I was tired yesterday–I’ve been mentally weary all week for some reason–and was very happy to come straight home from work. I resisted Sparky and finished the dishes, which need to be put away tonight. It was very nice to come down to a clean kitchen with nothing on the counters and the sink empty. This kind of also puts me ahead on the weekend, too. Huzzah! I still have some filing and straightening and organizing to do around the house. The Olympics end this weekend, which means technically I can start writing again this weekend–I mean, ending a few days early on the embargo isn’t going to be the end of the world or anything, and I am kind of itching to get back to writing again. That, by the way, feels good.

I feel decent this morning, too. I’ll probably get tired at some point during the morning, and I am sure my butt will be dragging come this afternoon. I also need to get the mail today–maybe tomorrow; it depends on timing–and I do have some errands to run tomorrow. Maybe the mail can wait? Who knows? I do have a meeting tomorrow in the morning, and I made an appointment to get my labs drawn next Friday (fasting labs, and no way am I fasting all morning and not having coffee; there was nothing available for tomorrow until the time of my meeting). I feel very good about getting back on top of my health stuff, and my insurance issues are all ironed out. I have one more leftover issue from the surgery, and I hope to get that taken care of this weekend. Thank God.

In other big news, I deleted my Twitter account yesterday. I just bit the bullet, went in, and deactivated my account. I don’t care if someone else uses it because I don’t think I will ever go back there. I know, I know, I should have done it a long time ago. Being there only helps as another user to count towards advertising revenue, and I don’t want any part of that on my soul and conscience anymore. I went back and forth over the morality of being there still (friends who are only there, etc. v. being complicit with that vile company) and pondered the hypocrisy of that, while keeping my newsletter on Substack1 and actively working to build an audience there. It wound up not being that difficult of a decision, really; I realized that the only times this week I’ve been tense or irritated has been because of Twitter and morally bankrupt people there, so it’s clearly not good for my mental health. I deleted it for my own well-being in the end, but making it about ‘taking an ethical stand’ is verifiably false. I don’t like getting credit for something I don’t deserve, and there was nothing noble about deleting my account other than self-preservation. I don’t even know why I went there in the first place, to be honest. I’ve never really gotten much joy out of being there, and what joy I managed to find there didn’t make up for the absolute horror of being there. I was never targeted or swarmed, it was never anything like that…but what is allowed there under the guise of “free speech” (and they decide what is protected and what is not, with a heavy thumb down on the scale on the side of being fascist or enabling it) is horrific and shameful and disgusting.

I did enjoy removing the app from my phone, though. It was almost as satisfying as slamming down the phone receiver used to be.

We’re also still in a boil water advisory, and today’s “feels like” is going to be 110. Woo-hoo! But it’s August, what can I expect or what more can I want? This weekend is also the Red Dress Run (which is how Garden District Gothic opens, or was it a different Scotty? Sigh), and there are some other things going on around town as always–Dirty Linen in the Quarter (it’s the Quarter’s version of White Linen Night, and I really should write about both) and there’s a Drew Brees pickleball tournament (I’m not really sure what pickleball is, to be honest, and not sure that I want to, either), too. Sounds like a good weekend to stay home to me, doesn’t it? It’s going to also be horrifically and horribly hot, too.

And on that note, I am heading down into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll most likely be back at some point later.

Greg Louganis, seen here in his Olympic debut in Montreal as a teenager, winning the silver medal. I was enchanted by his incredible physical beauty.
  1. Two people I really respect in this business are still at Substack, and since they have better ethics than me and are, in general, much better humans than I am, I will defer to their judgment in this case. ↩︎

Paths of Victory

Wednesday morning and we’ve made it to the middle of the week. Yesterday was somewhat better than the day before–I felt rested, but my brain was still off-track a bit, and a little scattered. That may be because I forgot to take my medications before I left for work yesterday, and that always makes my brain chemistry a bit more foggy than it needed to be. But in other great news, yesterday I was able to get a prescription fight I’ve been having with my insurance company won yesterday; they finally authorized a daily med I’ve not taken since January, and this time the approval from my insurance is good through 2029–and who knows if I will live that long? But that hassle is finally over, and I am very pleased to say that now I know how to deal with my insurance, it’s not going to be a problem anymore. There are a couple of more things I need to take care of with my insurance, and then I can just settle in with it and everything should be smooth sailing from now on.

We’re in a boil water advisory here in New Orleans today; almost the entire east bank is in this. Yay. Will make showering interesting this morning, and I had already rinsed my mouth out this morning and cleaned my teeth, etc. So…if the water is unsafe I’ve already ingested some. Hopefully I will make it through to the weekend. The heat index will be about 110, so that’s not quite as bad as it has been. Yay? I get to come home straight from work tonight, which is lovely; I have a ZOOM meeting at six and I need to seriously clean up my kitchen; it’s an absolute disaster area and since it’s the only place I can do it…sigh. Maybe I can hide everything out of camera range? This is what happens when you get lazy once you get home from work. But just walking from the car to the apartment door is draining; the hazy lazy heat and humidity just sucks energy right out of you, and I hate that feeling of sweat about to breakthrough my scalp and try to get in before it starts and soaks me completely. I took a shower when I got home last night because I felt so miserable, but the rest of the evening was pretty nice as I caught up on the news and let Sparky sleep in my lap (he’s a very bad influence that way; just like Scooter, and I can never resist their feline wiles).

I did swing by the post office, and my preordered books had arrived, which was lovely. Again, too many good books piling up in my TBR pile, and I really need to stop bringing more books into the house before I get rid of some more, or at least read more of the ones on hand. The new Donna Andrews looks delightful, and I know Gabino’s new one is going to be very well written and very dark in tone and theme and style; he’s really very original and a one of a kind, which isn’t easy to do (trust me, I know all too well how hard it is to be original and a one of a kind, and I have not even remotely succeeded on the level he has with his work), and that’s probably one I will sit down with and read all the way through in one sitting–which means taking it on my next trip. If I can wait that long…

I’ve also been thinking a lot about my book and my writing lately; the enforced “no writing during the Olympics” is kind of making me want the Olympics to end! Given how much I love the Olympics, that is saying a lot. Football season is also on its way, which is always a fun time of the year for me. But ever since I started looking back, I’m starting to understand things more, things about myself and lessons I missed along the way because I was so busy moving forward. It isn’t painful to look back, really; my childhood and my teens were a long time ago, and I am trying to stop telling myself lies and/or gaslighting myself. I always say I won’t write a memoir because I don’t trust my memory and would be an unreliable narrator (which I have considered as a title for said memoir)…but the truth is no two people remember anything in the same way. Our memories of events and situations and things are all colored by our own experiences, confirmation biases, and values. I suppose, though, that those kinds of mistakes and remembering things through my perspective is always going to be different from other people’s…and let’s face it, nobody from back then is going to read anything I write anyway.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely middle of the week, Constant Reader, and I may be back later. You never know with me–I’m tricky that way.

As We Go Along

Tuesday morning and for whatever reason, I feel much more rested and awake this morning than I did yesterday. I felt off all day yesterday, partly because I was sleepy still for most of the morning, and never felt like I ever completely woke up. This morning I feel like a new person, which is very cool. I like when I feel rested.

So yeah, I felt off most of the day yesterday. I started getting my work done and got most of it done–I’m still behind–and ran my errands after work. It didn’t rain on me on the way home, which was a lovely change, and so I got the mail (and a copy of Jericho Brown’s The Tradition). I also started reading, of all things, The Iliad last night. I’ve never read it or the Aeneid or the Odyssey–lyric poetry–even though I was very aware of the story and everything about it. (I had a Trojan War/Greek mythology era in my childhood.) I was actually enjoying myself as I read it while glancing up at the Olympics (I am really going to miss the Olympics when they are over.) So I did manage to get some reading done last night, which was incredibly cool. Maybe this weekend I’ll spend some time reading poetry and trying to learn about it. I was thinking about that last night as I drove around town, that the extra time I have now can be spent either relaxing or studying poetry or teaching myself something. I am going to definitely schedule in some German on Duolingo; and of course I want to keep studying Louisiana and Alabama history.1

I should have cleaned the kitchen when I got home last night. Sigh. I’ll have to do it tonight, and get the house a bit under control. It won’t take long–wouldn’t have taken long yesterday, either, but I gave in to Sparky’s cuddle needs and so I came down to a dirty kitchen again this morning. And before I knew it, the Olympics were on and I was sucked into the excitement of sport again. It was great seeing Louisiana’s own Mondo Duplantis win the pole vault and set a new world record competing for Sweden, the floor exercise was amazing–I can’t believe they didn’t air the medal ceremony, well done, NBC. The pictures of Simone Biles and Jordan Chiles bowing to gold medalist Rebeca Andrade was epic, and went viral, so why would viewers want to see it? I love the Olympics, and getting Snoop to go as our official ambassador was genius, but so much of the coverage in prime time–when they’ve had all day to stitch together the show–isn’t good. (Although my favorite was the woman griping about ‘why do they have a quarterback commenting on gymnastics?’ to get the reply “John Roethlisberger was a four time all around US champion and Olympian. You’re thinking about Ben Roethlisberger who quarterbacks the Steelers.’ I laughed for a good few minutes there, because her post had actually confused me and I didn’t know what she was talking about…for good reason.)

It’s funny because yesterday I was talking about not getting more books, only to get up to notifications that the new Gabino Iglesias and the new Donna Andrews are on their way to me now, which is marvelous. Maybe spending some time with The Iliad last night has reopened the flood gates to reading again….I guess we’ll find out this weekend, or maybe even tonight.

You know what’s really funny? This forced “Olympics break” from writing was the smartest thing I could have ever done. Sometimes you just need to trick your brain. By going from I should write every day and then feeling like a loser who can’t take part in his passion anymore, to I am not going to write for two weeks has absolutely worked. All I’ve really wanted to do these last ten days or so (however long it’s been) is actually write. I allow myself to hand write in my journal, but actually typing out fiction or non-fiction, and immersing myself in it? Not allowed. Maybe, just maybe, this means when the Olympics are over I’ll be eager to get back into the swing of writing every day.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I may be back later; stranger things have happened.

Reach

Monday morning and back to the office with me. I feel rested this morning–it took me a minute to wake up–and good, like this is going to be a very good week for one Gregalicious. It’s also my birthday month, which is kind of fun; I’ll be sixty-three in a few weeks (note to self: take birthday and day before off for a four day weekend), and that’s not nearly as traumatizing as it could be, you know? I don’t mind getting older; I never really have and I also don’t care about being old. I joke about it, but it’s never serious. A gay man who was in his twenties during the 1980s and made it to sixty-three? There aren’t as many of us as there should be, and that’s not something I will ever get over, I don’t think. A quick glance at the weather lets me know that it will “feel like” 112 today; Debby is battering the Florida coast; and we won’t be getting any rain today. We didn’t have any this weekend, I don’t think. I went out into the heat yesterday to make groceries, and retreated home as quickly as I could. (The cost of groceries is insane–I cannot believe how much I spent for so little…thanks, corporate greed!)

I’ve been listening to a podcast in the car the last few days, and I am really enjoying it. I’ve never gotten into podcasts–I have never been known as an early adapter; sometimes I don’t adapt at all. I’ve never really understood podcasts, how to find them, or even how to listen to them. I did figure it out last summer (I did find some great ones about hauntings and legends of the South; i listened to one about Julia Brown and the destruction of Frenier, Louisiana, for my unfinished story “When I Die”), but again–when I am in town I am rarely in the car long enough to listen to something all the way through, which totally sucks for audiobooks; you can’t listen to a ten hour book in twenty minute segments. At least I can’t; I don’t remember things anymore so it’s hard for me to pick back up if I go a few days without getting back into the book. Memory is necessary for reading, alas, which is why I am having so much trouble reading these days. Maybe if I commit to a chapter per night? I’ve either got to start reading regularly again or I have to stop compulsively buying books. Anyway, I asked my supervisor last week what audiobook she was going to listen to on her long drive this past weekend and she replied, “I don’t listen to books because I worry I’ll go to sleep. I listen to podcasts.” I of course then expressed my geriatric usual response to the word “podcast” and she recommended one to me, which I started listening to on the way home from work Thursday. It’s hilarious. It’s called “My Dad Wrote a Porno”, features three Brits (two men, one women) and that is what it’s about. One man’s dad wrote a porn novel, and each episode is his son reading one aloud and the three reacting to it. It is amazingly hilarious because…well, because the writing of the book, Belinda Blinked, is hilariously campy and bad. (It’s also a real book, for sale on Amazon.) I’ve been listening in the car non-stop, and we’re only up to chapter three. Apparently, there are eight seasons, so this should entertain me in the car for quite some time!

I really didn’t do much of anything yesterday other than the grocery run, finishing the final season of Elite (the first three seasons remain the best), which was a bit satisfying but…they did leave some of the characters with dangling stories, so it’s entire possible they could do spin-offs, but the only spin-off I want to see is one with Carla (Ester Exposito), but that ship has sailed, alas. Tonight we’ll watch more Olympics (we did last night, too); it is unbelievable how much of a good mood the Olympics puts me into. These games also seem a bit more special this time around; the 2020 ones were kind of messed up, taking place in 2021 with no crowds, so we’ve really not had an Olympics like usual since 2016. The athletes seem to really be grateful to be there; losing gold and settling for either silver or bronze isn’t coming across as “disappointing” or “losing.” Gold medals are rare, and fluky things happen at the Olympics; which is part of the excitement. You never know who’s going to become a star during the games (if someone had told me that a nerdy pommel horse specialist from Worcester, MA would capture the hearts of the American public, I would have laughed). So many amazing stories in so many different sporting disciplines…so inspiring, and the athletes are just wonderful. Just being there is a win, let alone getting a medal. I would just be so thrilled to be there I don’t think any disappointment would stick for long. I will be sorry when it ends, but am very excited the next games will be in Los Angeles! Woo-hoo! Our time zones so we can watch live!

I really do feel bad for the people who’d rather be angry than enjoy the spirit of sport and athletic excellence from young people who’ve trained their whole lives for this moment and celebrate healthy competition, but those people tend to find no joy in life and just want to make everyone else as miserable as they are. Misery loves company indeed.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, and I may be back later; one can never be certain.

That Was Then This Is Now

Sunday morning after a completely wasted day, in which I just really relaxed and didn’t do much of anything. It was unusual, and I didn’t feel bad for just sitting around and just, you know, having a day off from everything and just wasting it. I still don’t feel bad about it, either. I had a very rough year last year, and while my body is getting healed from everything my brain still feels a little bit off. Taking care of my mental health really is, and has to be, a priority for me. And let’s face it, life keeps coming at me (everyone, really) so fast and there’s so much to worry about and be concerned about and it sucks that every morning I have to wake up worried about what went on yesterday that I’ll find out about that I wasn’t aware of when I went to bed the night before.

I do have to do some things today, and once I am finished with this I’ll have to figure some things out for the week, make a grocery list and all of those fun things, and run that errand during yet another heat advisory (will only feel like 114 today, so woo-hoo!) before coming home for more Olympics. One of the coolest things that happened this year so far was the election turnaround happened just as the Olympics (another patriotic high) started–and the right’s divisive and borderline hateful reactions to the Olympics–has only served to make them look even more weird. Imagine your “patriotism” requires you to hate on our Olympic athletes, or not be supportive of them. That’s how deep the rot and sickness on the Right in this country goes; they aren’t patriotic, and they never have been. (Pro tip: if you have to constantly call yourself a patriot while you’re shitting on other Americans or boycotting the Olympics because of some weirdo freaks on Twitter, you’re not a patriot no matter how much flag paraphernalia you are wearing to bolster your claim, which will always be weird to me.)

I don’t have to advertise my patriotism because I know I love my country despite its flaws, and why I have always held it to a much higher standard–the same one the Founders did–critique and fix, never think everything’s just fine when there are still things to fix, in order to live up to the original principles the country was founded upon. The Founders didn’t think they were gods, and that the Constitution couldn’t be changed. They made it hard to do deliberately–not because they didn’t want the document amended or changed in any way, but to ensure that such a thing was necessary and needed.

And you know, life is hard enough without trying to make it harder for others, which is something I’ll never understand–why do some people insist on trying to make others as miserable as they are? Misery loves company, I guess, which is the really sad thing about humanity. I’m not perfect and I never claim to be, but I like to think I don’t spread misery around–unless it’s deserved. I’m not a turn the other cheek kind of person, I’m afraid. I try not to ever start drama–but if you try to create some I will end that very quickly and you will not try it again. People who cause and create unnecessary drama are people I cut out of my life, because I ain’t got time for your shit, and the older I get the less fucks I have; the field in which I grow my fucks has been barren for quite some time, and shall remain fallow for as long as I live.

My brain has always been a mess; I was talking to Dad about that the last time I saw him, as we talked about my childhood and when he and Mom were married and struggling, and I tried to make him understand how fuzzy my brain had been when I was a child. I had generalized anxiety disorder and ADD as a kid, plus the genetic legacy of the wild mood swings, going from happy to over-the-top hysteria on the turn of a dime. I knew the hysteria was not good, so I started trying to control it when I was young. I also always had a buzzing sound in my head when I was a kid; I really can’t describe it better than that. I also was very stubborn (a family trait on both sides) and willful. I wanted to please my parents, who adored me (I always knew this, even though I always was certain they were disappointed in me–anxiety again), and spoiled me as much as they could afford. I can remember talking to my mom a few years ago–it was probably longer ago than I remember, because she was herself in this memory and not the fading woman she’d been since her first stroke, and I said something about not being an easy kid to raise and she scoffed dismissively. “You were no trouble at all,” she replied, which gave me another insight into my family–they remember things differently. I was always certain I was a disappointment to my parents and failed them all the time growing up; I remember making Mom cry and Dad being disappointed or angry with me.

Probably the most insightful thing I’ve ever said to my parents–not realizing how true this was–that it was a “good thing I didn’t have children, because you two would have spoiled them rotten”–and they would have. They would have spared no expense with my kids, but I never trusted myself enough to be a parent or to want kids. I don’t think I’m up to having them or being a parent, as I second-guess myself with my cat all the time, but knowing how I am…I would have spoiled them myself.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Sunday, and I may be back later; one never really knows, does one?

I just love these guys.

Listen to the Band

Good morning and happy Saturday everywhere and to everyone! I slept really great last night, and had a pretty decent day overall for a work-at-home Friday. I got my work done, and then went to the doctor. I’m healthy; good blood pressure, heart rate, all of the vitals were perfectly fine. I was also proud of myself; I had done some of my own research into my insurance, found the answers we both needed to get a prescription of mine potentially approved, and had a nice visit with him. I really like him; he seems to be genuinely concerned about my health and welfare–always a plus to not feel like another person to check off the list for the day–and he’s very personable. I highly encourage those of you not happy with your medical care to find a new one. It makes all the difference in the world.

I need to remember to always advocate for myself, and doing all that research also made me feel like I was vested in my health. I highly recommend it. Ask questions. Get second opinions. And remember you might have other options. There’s no rule that says you can’t fire your doctor if you don’t think they are listening to you or taking you seriously; maybe if enough patients dump them they might wonder what they are doing wrong?

Things you realize when you’re in your sixties. Oy.

Sigh.

But today is going to be a lazy one around here. I have some chores to do, and I’d like to get some reading done. Maybe I’ll try writing, or editing, or something this afternoon. I don’t know, I guess we can see how everything goes. I did end up making a to-do list yesterday for the weekend, and I can slowly make my way down that list today (nothing on it requires writing or editing or revising) before making a new one for next week after the weekend is finished. I did write in my journal last night while we were watching the Olympics, and I can also do some more of that this weekend, too. I think I am going to read some more of Mary Oliver’s poetry; I ordered Jericho Brown’s Pulitzer Prize winning collection yesterday, too. I was thinking last night about how I’ve been marveling about my free time and how I should be making more of an attempt to utilize the free time; I think I may start trying to learn Italian again through Duolingo–but maybe instead I’ll try to get my German back? I mean, hidden deep within the recesses of my mind lies my memories of taking and learning it when I was a teenager. Paul and I have also talked about a German vacation; so being able to fumble my way through German interactions is better than not even trying.

I think the locals enjoy it when I try rather than not–in Mexico the phrase I speak all the time is “No hablo español soy un estúpido americano”. They always smile and laugh and are very kind and helpful.

I do feel good this morning.

I think I’m starting to get a handle back on my life again after dog-paddling for about eight years. I do worry sometimes, when that occurs to me, that it’s like post-Katrina, where I’d have a good couple of days and think it was all over, only to discover that it wasn’t. But I do think I am more clear-headed now than I have been, and I don’t feel like I have that gauze over my brain that makes me not see everything as clearly as I should. Sometimes I get into my head too much, and overthink things. That’s from the anxiety–and despite the change in medications, I still will do that from time to time before recognizing what is causing it–depression, PTSD, anxiety, whatever–but it’s also not as frequent as before and it’s so much milder than it used to be that I’ll happily take it and deal with it now. I am sure you are tired of me saying this, but this medication change has so dramatically improved my quality of life that I will say it again: you have to advocate for yourself with your doctor. Had I done this ten or twelve years ago–no regrets, Greg, no regrets. I am grateful we figured this out, and that’s the name of that tune.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later, no doubt.

The adorable British diving team, with out multi-Olympic medalist Tom Daley

Someday Man

Work at home Friday!

I slept really well last night, and even slept a little later this morning than I was expecting to, but I am not going to berate myself over sleeping later than I want/”should”; the new Greg mentality is you slept late because your body needed the sleep and let myself off the hook. Being kinder to myself, along with the new medications, seems to be working. I am not anxious anymore, I don’t get angry–even when I’m driving–and I feel more centered than I have in a very long time. I’m sleeping soundly every night, and while I do tend to get tired in the afternoons at the office, I’m not groggy in the mornings anymore.

A quick look around the news this morning has let me know that the current system being watched by the Hurricane Center will most likely become a tropical depression in the Gulf this weekend, with the cone covering most of the northern Gulf Coast. It will feel like 115 today outside–the dog days of summer are truly upon us now. Football season is rapidly approaching (huzzah!), and soon after the weather will finally start to ease up here. Sha’carri Richardson competes today, and of course, last night the Women’s Gymnastics All Around was quite marvelous, with Simone Biles capturing gold and Suni Lee getting bronze; Rebeca Andrade of Brazil got silver, and the entire competition was exciting down to the last routine. I was also amazed by Andrade’s skills and abilities, and what a beautiful smile she has! Seeing the top three supporting each other and cheering each other one was also fantastic to see; the change in mentality in women’s gymnastics was long overdue. I was so happy and thrilled for them–and I also enjoyed Snoop’s private tour of the Louvre1.

Sigh. I love the Olympics, and become obsessed with them every four years.

I was also, oddly enough, thinking about how cool an Olympic gay rom-com would be last night as I watched, and it occurred to me that maybe I should try writing one? Because, of course, I don’t have a million other things to write when I get the chance, but it’s a fun idea. I really need to work on the book some more, or writing of some kind, any kind, really. I’m getting ideas again– my brain producing characters and stories and scenes and things without, apparently, any rhyme or reason to them. But it feels good to have creative thoughts again, and I need to start turning things into words on the page again. (Hilariously, now that I’ve relieved myself of pressure to write during the Olympics, all I want to do is write. Oy.)

I also need to start reading again. I think I’ll dip my way in again by reading short stories, and since I have some I want to write, perhaps that will inspire me to get back to work on the short stories again. I also need to get better organized (still have NOT made that to-do list). I have a doctor’s appointment after work today, and I might stop at the Fresh Market since I will be right there on the way back. Since it’s going to be so hot outside today, most likely I will not be doing a lot out of the house today. It’s also supposed to rain this afternoon (it’s literally rained every day for weeks), so hopefully I’m not going to get caught up in that, either. Lots of our regular shows have dropped new seasons, also, and we still haven’t finished Evil, and we’re behind on any number of shows airing currently, so once the Olympics are over our entertainment needs will be contained…although we’ll probably watch the games during the day this weekend and watch other stuff at night. We need to finish Evil, too.

Well, sorry for being so tedious this morning! But I am enjoying my coffee, I feel good and awake, and look forward to a productive day. Have a great Friday, I may be back later, and if not, till the morrow, Constant Reader!

Have been a fan of Rafa since he was a teenager. It’s going to be weird not seeing him on the tour anymore. Thanks and best wishes to you for the future, Rafa!
  1. It occurred to me this morning that of course the Right is trying to ruin the Olympics; every single sport shows that white supremacy is a fucking myth. How much do they hate that we have so many racialized athletes that are amongst the best in the world, if not the best? How much do they hate that Snoop and Flavor Flav have become not only national treasures but are winning hearts every time they appear on the television screen? Where are the right wing “celebrities” who are sponsoring athletes or teams? The Olympics rub their faces in their own mediocrity, so of course they have to politicize everything. ↩︎

A Man Without a Dream

Wednesday has rolled around yet again and here we are with Pay the Bills Day again. Woo-hoo! That was sarcasm, by the way; I feel pretty confident that I am not going to be thrilled once I finish paying them this time around. Yay. (It’s one of those times when almost everything is due out of one paycheck. I have a nice cushion from the last one but still.) But I feel good this morning, and even got up without the alarm, which I’d forgotten to set! The lack of alarm obviously surprised Sparky, too, because shortly after I opened my eyes before six, he got into bed with me. When I didn’t react to the paw to my face, he curled up in a cat puddle, sighed, and went to sleep. If I could be certain I’d wake up on my own every morning, I wouldn’t even set the alarm because I feel much more awake and better today than I usually do when the alarm goes off and I hit snooze three or four times. I even stayed up later than usual, to try to catch up on the news. I ran errands after work last night–nothing big, just the mail and a short grocery run–and Paul got home relatively early enough so we could watch the Olympics, but too late for me to make dinner.

And of course, the Olympics were marvelous; it was so great seeing Simone Biles at the top of her game yet again, and the USA with the team gold in Women’s Gymnastics again. When I remember how hopeless we were with both teams back in the 1970s–and any medal seemed like an impossible dream. Now, the silver in 2020 was a “disappointment” because the women are expected to take the team gold every Olympics. It was so great watching them, and I always enjoy the crowd shots of Simone’s NFL player husband, keeping track of the scores so he doesn’t have to wait for the updates! They have a very special relationship, which is great to see. The gymnastics teams really made me happy this year, and I am so proud of them all!

So glad I’m not a sad bitter Christian who wants to eliminate joy from everyone’s life. I love the Olympics, you know? I always have, and one of my favorite things is seeing someone whose been under the radar from public view for their entire athletic career, and then have a shining Olympic moment in the spotlight and become instant stars. We’ve seen that happen already with the men’s gymnastics team; they are all adorable and their joy in winning an Olympic medal will inevitably be one of my favorite moments of these games. And of course, everyone is in love with Stephen Nedoroczik, who’s definitely having a moment, and good for him. (I also remember some athlete saying once that it’s better to win bronze than silver; silver just reminds you that you didn’t win; whereas bronze you’re delighted to have a medal at all.)

After the Olympics, I stayed up longer to watch Pete Buttigieg on Monday’s The Daily Show and the Vice-President’s speech in Atlanta. I thought I was going to regret that this morning, but seriously, so far so good, you know. Paul and I were talking about this during the Olympics; the last week has been the first one in almost a decade in which we weren’t experiencing some kind of existential dread about the future, which is both tiring and tiresome. It’s so nice to have hope again, even if it’s just a quicksilver dream disappearing through my fingers. There’s a lot of work to do, there’s a lot of excitement and optimism, and while I love President Biden and what he has managed, he couldn’t get this kind of excitement going anymore. And I don’t mind being wrong about him stepping aside either–mainly because I was so terrified of what might happen if he did, and despite the fact that it turned out better than I could have ever hoped, the Fucked-up Four (MSNBC, CNN, New York Times, Washington Post) are still on my shit list, and I doubt even the impossible dream of winning control of Congress too could get me to go back to them.

I’ve not really done much writing lately, and I think it’s probably best not to pressure myself too much at this time and look at it as “I’m taking an Olympic sabbatical from writing.” I don’t have a deadline–there are some anthology calls I am thinking about writing something for, but we’ll see how that all works out in the long run. I wanted to submit something to the Malice anthology open call, but the deadline is today and I seriously doubt that anything I have on hand could be punched up, corrected and revised and sent in by midnight. If I didn’t have to go to work today, maybe I could get it done, but I do have to go in and I’m not going to kill myself to write a story for an anthology.I kind of don’t want to ever have to basically kill myself to finish anything on deadline ever again.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; you never know!