That’s Why (I love You So)

Memorial Monday!

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

One never knows, does one?

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

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

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

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

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

Private Eyes

I loved this show. 100%.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bravo and well done.

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Ah, the Von Erich curse.

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

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

So, I was closeted in that way, too.

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

But…I did enjoy it. A lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Take a Message to Mary

Sunday!

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

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

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

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

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

I Will Follow You Into the Dark

I’ve always thought that my favorite two literary genres–crime and horror–were flip sides of the same coin. I sometimes reduce my theory to the barest of bones–both are about death but in crime the monsters are human. Horror novels always have elements of mystery and suspense woven into the story–there are always characters trying to figure out what is actually going on, and usually suspecting humans, only to find out it is not–and there’s also a lot of death. You have to figure out what is causing those deaths, and the best horror novels seem like straight-up mysteries until you find out otherwise. I didn’t really start reading horror until Stephen King and Peter Straub, and much as I love the genre, my first love will always be mysteries…but reading the kids’ series, with all their phony ghosts and hauntings and phantoms and spirits, got me really interested in the concept of ghosts–something that stays with me to this very day. (I mostly write about ghosts when I try horror; because Gothic is my absolute favorite and that runs across both genres.)

This is one of the reasons I fell in love with Michael Koryta’s novels. The first I read was So Cold the River, which was more of a ghost story/mystery about a haunted and cursed resort hotel in Indiana, which was a wild ride and great fun to read. He’s also written some other crime novels that crossed over into the supernatural; The Ridge was another favorite. I also wondered how he was writing both straight up crime fiction and sometimes supernatural styled mysteries; I was always told you couldn’t write in two genres like that under the same name.

And then he started releasing those types of novels under the name Scott Carson, so maybe there is something to that old publishing truism? I don’t know why he rebranded those books under a different name and it’s none of my business other than to satisfy idle curiosity. But I did recently finish one of his Scott Carson novels, and Where They Wait is an excellent illustration of the blurred line between horror and crime.

I was never a dreamer.

I mean that in the most literal sense. Figuratively speaking, I absolutely consider myself a dreamer. Aspirational, at least. Optimistic? To a point, although my profession–journalism–mandates a certain cynicism. When I say I was never a dreamer, I mean at night, in the depths of sleep.

No dreams. Just didn’t have ’em. Not good, bad, happy, or sad.

Slept well, though. I slept well. That’s hard to believe these days, but I know that it was true once.

People talk about their dreams all the time. I dated a woman for a few years who would wake up and recite the bizarre and vivid stories that had accompanied her through the night. Sometimes, I’d be tempted to pretend that I could share the experience. Dreaming sounds normal, right? Seems like something that should happen to all of us. And yet we don’t know much about the mechanisms of dreams, for all of our scientific research and psychological theorizing. We believe dreaming is tied to memory, that REM sleep is an archival process. We believe dreams are indicative of repressed emotions, or perhaps harbingers of maladies that haven’t yet offered physical symptoms. Warnings. Messages from the dead. From God. We believe all of these things and more, but what we know is this: dreams are still not fully understood after all these years. They come and they go.

For most people, at least.

I have always been interested in dreams, and what they say about our psyches and consciences. I’ve never studied the psychology of dreams–what little I did read was all supposition and theory, as there is no real answer to what dreams mean–is it just our brains doing freestyle, like a jazz singer bopping up and down the scales using their voice as an instrument, or are they the key to who we are, our hopes and dreams and traumas? I like to play around with dreams a lot in my work, since there is no real consensus on why some people do and some people don’t, why some remember their dreams and why others don’t; do people not remember their dreams because there’s nothing to remember, and on and on from there.

But dreams are at the heart of this chilling and masterful suspense novel, which is really more about tech horror than anything else. Our main character is a journalist who reported on the Afghanistan war, has recently been laid off from his job, and gets a call from an old buddy from the area where he grew up to write a puff piece on a local tech company and it’s newest development; a wellness relaxation app which sounds like every other relaxation app–other than it’s not. Given the latest version of the app to experiment with and write about, it starts affecting him in dreams–scary nightmares about an a shipwreck, and ghosts coming to visit him ,and the dreams are so incredibly vivid that he’s not entirely sure whether they were dreams or not. And as he discovers more, he finds that everything to do with the app is connected to him in some way, as his dreams become more vivid and sometimes waking; to the point he’s not sure if things are actually happening or he’s losing his mind.

This book was fantastic: the story is great, the pacing fantastic, the characters absolutely real–and the horror is terrifying, absolutely terrifying. Carson knows how to build suspense and suck the reader in along for the ride.

Highly recommended.

Sweeter Than You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sea Cruise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It Was I

Thursday and my last day in the office for this week, and then it’s a three day weekend after I finish work tomorrow. I am looking forward to the rest, frankly, and a chance to get caught up on things. I started feeling better about my writing yesterday–I always forget how not writing always impacts me psychologically, even if the writing is poor. When I don’t write, I start doubting myself about everything and that makes me procrastinate more which makes me doubt myself more, and you see how the mental spiral goes. But I paid all the bills yesterday and made groceries on the way home from work. I have to get the mail today, and have to swing by another store to make some more groceries that they didn’t have at the place I went last night (unusual, it’s usually a better store than where I regularly go). We are also going to Costco at some point this weekend, too, and I definitely need to get that list made. Tonight when I get home I need to put the dishes away and fold the laundry. So much excitement, right? I need to make a to-do list for the weekend, so I don’t forget all the things I need to get done this weekend. What would be lovely would be to get stuff done over the weekend and take Memorial Day itself as a “do-little-to-nothing” type day. I think we’re going to watch Dune Part 2 this weekend, and probably finish Euphoria. We started the second season last night and it definitely opened with a bang. I’m really enjoying this show a lot, and Zendaya kills it as Rue.

And this weekend I am going to kick it into gear and start trying to finish this y/a novel. I need to figure some things out with it first, but I definitely want to get back to writing it and making it into a novel from a novella. I think that sense of accomplishment will carry me through the rest of the year with writing, to be honest. I have two short stories I want to write for submission calls, one story I need to edit and revise to get it into one that’s due at the end of the month, and I need to finish revising these other two stories that are in progress and get the collection finished once and for all.

It’s kind of nice to feel excited about writing again, even if I haven’t actually done any in a while. I just hope this enthusiasm carries me through into the weekend…but then again, one never knows, does one? It is so weird that I feel so much more energetic and rested the further in the week we go, isn’t it? I don’t know why this has been the case, but it has been ever since I changed my medications. I hope to make it through the day and through my errands with the ability to still get some things done after I get home…but I also don’t have to get up early tomorrow, either. Yay!

And at least I am feeling optimistic again, you know? I don’t feel like my career is over or that the well has run dry; I just had to take some time away and now everything is a little rusty, and I need to retrain myself to focus again and lose myself in the writing.

An old man can hope, can’t he?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday–and I may be back later; one never really knows with me.

Manhattan Spiritual

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills blog, and woo=hoo! Isn’t it nice and exciting to be halfway through the work week? I feel rested and relaxed this morning as I sit here swilling coffee and reminding Sparky he doesn’t need more treats. (He really loves treats.) The sky is blue and the sun is already up, which is great. I really hate getting up in the dark, you know? Getting up when it’s already daylight–even if it’s not quite as light as it is later on–is so much better; I don’t feel like the night is being interrupted.

I ran some errands last night after work, mostly picking up the mail (got my copy of the new Ann Hood, yay!) and some other stuff. Tonight I have to make groceries on my way home, and I need to order some more things on-line, too. I also reflected some on the way I’ve been feeling about writing lately, and realized I’m just going through yet another prolonged malaise, which always makes me doubt myself and wonder if I should even bother continuing with it, while also contemplating taking some time off from it…and then remembering I have taken some time off from writing. Maybe I am just in a better mood this morning, or maybe I am finally rested enough to move forward from hereon out? Who knows? Writing hasn’t been easy for quite a while now, but I need to stop dogging myself about first drafts not being perfect because they never are. I think I am starting to get focused on what I want to write next…but I do need to get these short stories out of the way first and foremost, and I do need to get some of these other projects finished and out of the way. I also need to remember that music is the best thing for writing; I need background noise and music has always worked to put me into the zone. So…maybe put on my headphones and play some music the next time I am trying to write something?

I started listening to the new Taylor Swift album, The Tortured Poets Department, in the car yesterday and I am enjoying it. She really is quite the recording artist, and she also collaborates a lot with other amazing artists, too.

It’s so weird how I feel better rested and relaxed the deeper I get into the week, isn’t it? It used to be the other way around; I always started the week off great and then descended into exhaustion until by the time I got home on Thursdays I was so bleary-eyed that all I could do was collapse into the couch. But…there are certainly worse things, an I shouldn’t question it other than leaning into it and enjoying the ride. Maybe after I make groceries tonight I’ll be able to get some writing done. Maybe even some reading. I did do chores last night; I’ll need to empty the dishwasher tonight and finish the laundry, but it’s nice to try to spend some time at least catching up on mess or clutter or life debris; whatever you want to call that. I also spent some time yesterday catching up on the Noah Presgrove murder; again, the darkness in rural small towns is really something. I found a Reddit where someone had put together a time-line of the weekend, which helped clear some things up for me, but the conflicting stories is perhaps the most interesting thing to me. I don’t know if he was actually murdered or not, but I don’t see how it could have been anything else given his injuries. I also am curious about why the autopsy report took so long? Although I would imagine that area of Oklahoma would probably have to send the remains to a bigger city for a forensic autopsy? And he was buried not long after he died…so why did the autopsy take so long? (I don’t know how long it takes for an actual autopsy to be done, but nine months seems a bit extreme, especially in the case of a mysterious death.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I may be back later; one never knows. Have a great Wednesday!

Goodbye Jimmy Goodbye

Here it is Tuesday, and I am feeling okay this morning–awake and rested, if a little creaky (which is every morning these days)–and my coffee is really tasty this morning, which is lovely. I slept pretty well, other than the occasional sniffing/clawing/biting from Sparky, and I could have easily stayed in bed for another hour or so, but that’s okay. Functionality is perfectly fine.

We watched more Euphoria last night, and I have to say, we are really enjoying it. Nate is a monster, played beautifully (see what I did there?) by Jacob Elordi; but as wild and over-the-top as the show is, it’s also marvelously queer–and also shows the difference between a miserable existence that is completely a lie (Nate’s dad) to Rue’s unabashed, unquestioned bisexuality, and of course there’s a marvelous trans character as well, who is just as developed and three-dimensional and has an interior life as much as the others, which is terrific. Represent, HBO! I’m also a bit surprised that this show hasn’t been targeted by the right–drugs and sex and drinking and teenagers, oh my! But they never came after Gossip Girl either; selective outrage is never consistent, after all.

I did write some last night; it was all garbage, but at least it was something, right? Even as I was typing the words as they came to me, I knew it wasn’t any good. I had the voice completely wrong, and the words, which I’d intended to create a dream-like kind of mood (the way Megan Abbott does, so effortlessly), weren’t good either. It’s just a prologue, and it’s not the actual book I want to write quite yet, but at least it was something–and it was in my mind so much I couldn’t really do much of anything else until I got it out of my system. It’s only about 1500 words or so, and needs to be redone, but I can work on that while I work on these other stories I need to get taken care of. There’s a lot that has to go into this book, which is probably going to wind up being shorter than I had really ever thought about–it kind of needs to be, kind of quick and nasty and dreamy.

Now that I’ve finished Where They Wait (more on that later), I am going to go back to something I’d started before my trip, and then I have some others I’d like to get through relatively quickly; but I do have a three day weekend to look forward to; so hopefully I can get some other reading done, too. I know we are going to Costco this weekend–I need to make a list–and I also need to make groceries, but I’ll probably swing by the grocery store on my way home from work tomorrow since it’s Pay-the-Bills Day. I also want to get a lot of the apartment taken care of, so I can take books to the library on Saturday and I can also drop off the dry cleaning, which will be a lovely start towards making the living room look like a living room and not a fraternity dorm room.

I do continue to keep tabs on the Noah Presgrove case in Oklahoma; his autopsy report was finally released last week (why did it take eight months is another good question), and it’s brutal. I knew it was bad, but Jesus. He literally was beaten to death, and the injuries are horrific. I also became aware of another case yesterday–Tom Brown in Canadian, Texas–which is also weird, is also small town stuff, and Canadian isn’t very far from Comanche, Oklahoma…although I doubt the cases are connected, despite the proximity; poor Tom disappeared on Thanksgiving, and his remains weren’t found for almost two years. Skin Hollandsworth had done an eight-part series on Tom for Texas Monthly, which I will probably read over the course of the weekend. It also occurred to me last night that I have become obsessed with the murders of teenaged boys in rural America lately. But how many cases like this are there, where a teenaged boy (granted, Noah was nineteen, but that still counts) is murdered in a small town where everyone knows everyone, but no one knows who the killer/killers is/are? Come on, now. I’m not buying that for a second.

There’s no corruption quite like small town corruption, is there? That’s also uniquely American, I think, and tells quite a different story than all the “real America/Joe Sixpack” right wing bullshit they try to sell us, where every small town is Mayberry and good American values are still appreciated. Well, in my experience every small town is either Twin Peaks or Peyton Place, and if that defines America….well, we need to rethink that.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back later.