Break It To Me Gently

It’s cold this morning in the Lost Apartment, and I didn’t want to get out of bed. The new meds are marvelous for sleeping–I can’t remember the last time I went to bed and was so damned comfortable and relaxed that it was a real struggle to force myself up out of the depths of Morpheus and into the world of the living again. I only have to go into the office twice this week–tomorrow I have PT first, which means waking up even earlier–but there’s another three-day weekend on the horizon and I really like the idea of all the rest and relaxation I’ll be able to get this weekend.

I did manage to get the apartment back into some semblance of order yesterday, with Sparky being absolutely zero help in that regard. He’s a bit rambunctious, to say the least, and still has that Big Kitten Energy thing going for him. The neighbors dropped off some toys for him for Christmas, and these were the first toys he’s actually shown any interest in for longer than a few moments. We watched some more War of the Worlds last night, which is a really interesting take on the old H. G. Wells novel; I don’t really remember the book anymore, which I read as a teen. I know the 1950’s version of the story was shown to me in elementary school; it terrified me and gave me nightmares for weeks. In retrospect, with all the fuss about education and all the right-wing bullshit attempts to take down and out public education, why the hell were elementary school children shown War of the Worlds in our classroom?

I couldn’t decide what to read next yesterday as I worked on the apartment, so I still haven’t started my next book. I’d intended to just read cozies for the rest of the year, but I am rethinking that, and thinking I need to mix it up more. I have a first novel by a Lafayette writer, who is a Black woman–I know, right? A Louisiana crime novel by a Black woman? I’ve been waiting for this forever–now if only we could find a gay Black crime writer in New Orleans….the book is Glory Be by Danielle Arsenault, and it comes highly recommended…and I’ve not read an “Own Voices” book in a while, which is entirely on me. Outside of James Lee Burke, there aren’t many crime writers who write about Louisiana but not New Orleans, and the book is highly recommended by a couple of friends, so I am really looking forward to breaking into it tonight or this weekend. I do have to run by the post office on my way home, and there are definitely chores that need doing around the house, so I’m pretty sure that’s how my evening will go. I also have PT at seven tomorrow, so I’ll be getting up early, too. Yay.

I’ve also been thinking about goals for the new year, and what I need to do in order to achieve those goals, and come up with a plan. I’m trying to remember what my favorite reads and watches of the year were–I did read a lot, somehow–and think about a writting schedule for the year. I’d like to do another Scotty book this year, a short story collection, and maybe something with those damned novellas-in-progress that I never seem to be able to finish. I definitely want to be better organized in the new year, and hopefully getting into that position before the new year rolls around, too. Maybe I can get all these “drafts” finished and posted at some point as well; wouldn’t that be nice?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Not a great Wednesday blog–I’ve really not been doing a great job with these entries, lately, have I? Ah, well, maybe tomorrow’s will be better. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and will check in with you again later.

I Am What I Am

I don’t really remember why Paul and I didn’t watch Looking when it originally aired. But now that we finally have, I am even more disappointed in ourselves for not.

I think there was a lot of backlash to the show when it originally aired, if I am remembering correctly, but I don’t remember what the backlash was about. The cast was diverse, even if two of the three main leads were white. I am often critical of queer media–while I recognize the importance of both Will & Grace and Queer as Folk, I also can see how and why both were problematic and flawed–and sometimes it’s justified, sometimes it’s just something that rankles with me. I fully recognize that I do not contain multitudes nor am I the gatekeeper on the queer experience; I do not speak with any authority for the queer community, nor do I think I would ever want to.

But Looking was satisfying in a way that neither Queer as Folk (with its sophomoric storylines and so obviously faked sex) and Will and Grace (with it’s neutered attractive gay male lead who was also a lawyer; yeah, he’d have dating trouble for sure, let alone could get laid every time he turned around) were for me. With Queer, I never got the sense that any of the characters were real or anything more than a two-dimensional representation who each would go on a polemic per episode about gay life, homophobia, etc.- (Brian is the Fonzie of the show–everyone wants him, he’s effortlessly cool and hot and rich and he can have anyone anytime he wants…perhaps with the snap of a finger…)–and the castration of Will Truman was horrific, particularly given how he regularly slut-shamed Jack, who at least was more realistic despite being a cartoon.

The characters in Looking seemed absolutely real to me; they had layers and depths and complicated emotions. The three gay friends at the core of the show–late thirties Dom, with his aspirations of opening a restaurant; 29 year old Patrick, a video games designer whose completely bought into the “someday my prince will come” Disneyfication of love and romance, yet behaves as the antithesis of that; and Agustín, a hedonistic and selfish artist’s assistant–were perhaps archetypes, but they also seemed like human beings. Dom lives with his best friend, a nurse named Doris (Lauren Weedman) whom he dated in high school before he came out and they’ve remained Will-and-Grace like ever since…but a Will-and-Grace who seemed real; Doris never interfered with his sex life, for one, and he’s kind of a Peter Pan-like character. He gets fulfillment emotionally from Doris so he doesn’t need a relationship, yet over the course of the series, he pushes Doris towards her love interest and decides to stand on his own and make his dreams come true. Patrick falls for Ricky, and their relationship gets off to a bad start and ends badly; Patrick is self-destructive in his relationships in a way that also felt very real. He then becomes the “other woman” in his next relationship, with HIS BOSS Kevin (played by Russell Tovey) and of course, that’s doomed almost from the start (you just know Patrick is going to mess that up too) while Agustín also blows up his own life and long-term relationship with Frankie, and hits rock bottom. He finds his own love and redemption in a bear he meets at a weekend at the Russian River, and they have to negotiate their way through their own hang-ups and character growth to finally let their guard down enough to build a life together.

This characters are messy, frustrating, and sometimes you just want to shake them–like they are real people.

And that’s what I loved about the show–these were people I knew, people I’ve known, people I will know.

And there’s also a pleasant guest appearance or two by Julia Duffy as Patrick’s mother, and she steals every scene she’s in.

Very well written, with a high level of quality in the production values as well, the acting is top notch, and I’m sorry it only got two seasons and a movie to tie it all up–which it did incredibly well.

Knock on Wood

I was Executive Vice President of Mystery Writers of America for three years (2020-2022), and it isn’t something I talk about much. I never wanted to be seen as using this volunteer position (which basically was chairman of the board) to promote myself or my career, which is why I never really talked about it much other than referring to it here as “my volunteer work.” It was exhausting, exhilarating, and frustrating at the same time. I dealt with a lot of firsts–first EVP to cancel the Edgar banquet, first EVP who had a Grand Master die on him before the Edgar presentation, on and on and on–but one thing I am really proud of that I accomplished in the role was the creation of the Lillian Jackson Braun Award, facilitated by two board members. Cozies are often overlooked when it comes to awards–they are the romance novels of the crime fiction community, looked down on, mocked, and not taken seriously–and I’ve experienced crime writers talking smack about cozies from even before I was published. The establishment of this award was a first step, I felt, for MWA to appreciate and uplift this subgenre so that it’s taken more seriously.

I had always wanted to write one, and that became A Streetcar Named Murder. I’ve also been reading more of them, too, since I realized I had allowed the opinion of others to influence my reading habits. I’ve long enjoyed Donna Andrews’ and Ellen Hart’s series, and there are so many terrific cozy writers out there…Ellen Byron, Sherry Harris, Katherine Hall Page, Leslie Budewitz; the list could go on forever, really.

So I’d been meaning to get around to the first Lillian Jackson Braun winner, presented earlier this year–and what a pleasant surprise Buried in a Good Book by Tamara Berry turned out to be.

“There are at least three dead bodies in there.”

Tess Harrow stood in front of the log cabin, mentally calculating where each of the corpses would be found. The basement would have one of them. She could see damp seeping up from the underground barracks, the stonework crumbling with neglect. It would be a crime not to store a body there. The lean-to on one side of the cabin, which was living up to its name and looked one strong breeze away from toppling over, was ideal for another. The chimney was large enough for someone small, and…

“Four. Four dead bodies.”

She nodded once and hefted her suitcase. There would be an additional corpse under the porch–she was sure of it. The rotted wood and craggy slates made the perfect cover for one final interment.

“You are so weird,” muttered Gertrude. Tess’ s teenaged daughter didn’t bother lifting her own suitcase, opting instead to dragit on the ground. The bump of the bag matched the slump of her shoulders. The prospect of sharing her home with a few corpses wasn’t doing much to improve a mood that had been questionable to begin with. “Please tell me we at least have Wi-fi out here.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what was going on in this opening sequence, and Berry draws this out a little bit, as we slowly are introduced to bestselling thriller writer Tess Harrow and her teenaged daughter, Gertrude (Gertie). Tess and Gertie’s father divorced some six months before the start of the book, and he’s pretty much ignored her since leaving Tess for a younger woman. Tess, behind on her latest book–she hasn’t started it–decided to remove herself and her daughter from Seattle and come out to stay at her grandfather’s extremely rural cabin–no power, running water, or wi-fi–so she can focus on finishing her book and get Gertie away from the Internet so she won’t know her dad isn’t reaching out to her. Within moments of their arrival, they head down to the pond on the property just as the water explodes and it starts raining fish–and body parts. A dead body had been in the pond, and the “blast fishing” not only killed the fish but dredged up the corpse. Soon we meet the local sheriff–a dead ringer for Tess’s police detective, and she starts plotting her new book by basing it on what is happening around her.

This is an wickedly clever concept: Tess isn’t investigating the murder, but trying to figure out how to plot her book since it’s based on the criminal investigation going on around her. These are some of the most amusing parts of the book–as Tess tries to change the crime so it’s not obvious she is basing it on a true crime, and changing characters and relationships around so they don’t bear too close a resemblance to the real thing, but she keeps stumbling on clues–and the police detective is getting awfully tired of her bizarre theories and interruptions. Berry makes this even funnier, by having the cop actually be one of her readers, and constantly telling her how she gets things wrong in her books. There are a lot of weird things going on up on these woods–and every element, no matter how disparate, ties in to the mystery–a flock of toucans, an eccentric’s missing cat, Bigfoot sightings, and a town full of suspects, including identical triplets (I did this in a book too!)–and there were several points where I had no idea how this was all going to play out and work out, but I was also having an incredibly good time reading it. It’s funny, and I really like the characters of Tess and Gertie, as well as their supporting cast.

I am looking forward to the next for sure!

I Wouldn’t Beg For Water

I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas weekend; I have another paid day off today since Christmas Eve fell on Sunday. I’ve been up already for a while and went to PT this morning, so am alive and on an endorphin high that feels most excellent–which is why I didn’t reschedule this 7 am appointment once I remembered that today was another holiday and therefore didn’t need to have it; I’ve not gotten up before nine this entire weekend and so figured it would be an easier way to ease back into the week by keeping it, and by getting up this early I would be raring to go and should be able to get everything done that I need to get done.

Or not.

It was a nice long weekend of getting rest and slowly starting to put the apartment back together. Everything has slid around here since my surgery, and I was hoping to have the energy and time to get a lot of it done this weekend. I didn’t get a lot done, but I made progress, and I always count progress as positive movement, you know? I have a lot of stuff here that I need to take back to the office, but some of it can wait until next week. Yesterday we watched Saltburn, which I really enjoyed; I know the reviews are mixed, but I enjoyed it a lot. Barry Keoghan is going to become a big star, and I’ve enjoyed him in everything I’ve ever seen him in, starting with Dunkirk. Jacob Elordi is just ridiculously beautiful–we are now thinking about diving into Euphoria–and Rosamund Pike is also terrific. We then started watching the television series War of the Worlds, which is kind of ridiculously well done. I also read the latest volume of Heartstopper, and have some thoughts about that I will most likely share at some point. I made a turkey breast in the crockpot for pulled turkey (which was really good), rolls, and Stovetop stuffing (don’t judge me, it’s just the two of us and homemade is both too much trouble and makes too much), which was nice. I have a mess to clean up in the kitchen this morning, but there are worse things. I got to spend the holiday with Paul and Sparky, who is getting so big! What better way to spend a holiday than with those two?

It’s also a bit cold this morning in New Orleans, and I have to say our new heating system is phenomenal. I can tell it’s cold outside but it’s temperate inside; I’d have a space heater running in the pre-new system days, and would also wrap up in a blanket on the couch. Mardi Gras is right around the corner, and will be here before I know it. Paul already got a copy of this year’s Arthur Hardy’s Mardi Gras Guide, the local Carnival Bible. I also picked out my next read, The Drowning Tree by Carol Goodman, which I hope to get started on today, once I get some things done and run some errands. Of course, tomorrow it’s back to the office, but that’s okay, too. I do need more structure to my days, and my job does a really good job of that–otherwise I lose track of dates and days; the medical leave time I never had the slightest clue what day of the week it was, let alone the date.

I also have spent some time learning how to use the microwave properly, and it’s so nice to know how to heat things the right way! Yes, I am a moron who never learned how to use a microwave properly and so messed things up a lot when I tried to do anything other than simply reheat something on high. One of the reasons I never used my Instant Pot was because I never took the time to learn how, and maybe that’s a goal I should set for the new year: learn how to use appliances properly.

Well, this is a rather tedious entry, isn’t it?

Which means it’s time to head into the spice mines, isn’t it? Enjoy your Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you later.

(It’s Going to Be a) Lonely Christmas

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and if you don’t–well, happy Monday off!

Yesterday was not a good day. I woke up feeling like crap, and it never really got much better until later in the day, when I realized it had started raining during the night. It rained all day, actually, and I was so tired and dragged out and felt so terrible that I didn’t put it together until late in the afternoon–oh, this is SINUS related, because of the rain–and took a Claritin-D, which made me feel somewhat better. I also slept super good and slept in, too. I did manage to get some things done yesterday too–I finished reading Buried in a Good Book (more on that later) and started reading another one. We also finished watching both Looking the series, and then watched the wrap-up film (more on that later as well). I am going to pick out my next read, spend some time with it this morning, and at some point today we are probably going to watch Saltburn. I also have to put the turkey breast in the slow cooker (pulled turkey is quite delicious) and put dishes away, but I also have tomorrow off, so am not overly concerned about getting things organized and cleaned up. I worked on the books some more and pruned some more out, and started learning how to use the microwave–which does make a difference.

Christmas is usually when I started looking back on the year, and 2023 was a bit of a rollercoaster for me (they usually are). My personal life really sucked balls this past year, but it was a very good year for me professionally. The year started with me behind on two deadlines, but I managed to get both books finally finished and turned in, once I was able to turn MWA over to my successor, which was part of the delay on the books. In late January I injured my arm, and got misdiagnosed by my primary care physician. As we rolled into Mardi Gras, Mom had a massive stroke and I drove up to Kentucky to see her one last time in hospice. She didn’t really know me, she was pretty much unresponsive unless she was in pain, and it was rough. I drove home that Sunday, and she died on Valentine’s Day, so I had to drive up to Alabama that last weekend of Mardi Gras for the funeral. Not going to lie, it was tough losing my mother, and it’s been tough all year. I have sublimated most of my grief into worry about Dad, frankly. I went up and met him in Alabama for their anniversary, and we convoyed up to Kentucky, where I stayed for a week. I met Dad at my aunt and uncle’s place in Panama City Beach in October for their birthdays. When my primary care finally recognized what was wrong with my arm (torn biceps), I got referred to a orthopedic surgeon–but I needed a specialist. I had all my teeth removed finally in September, right after Labor Day, but didn’t get my new teeth until the week before the arm surgery, so was on a soft diet for two months which sucked….and then had to go back on it after the surgery because I couldn’t really cut up food. I also got hearing aids, which was great and has helped dramatically.

I also finally realized what the core mental issue was, thanks to a conversation with Dad–when I found out she suffered from generalized anxiety disorder and the light bulb went on over my head: that is exactly what is wrong with me, and all these years what I thought was “normal” because I didn’t know any different and I just always thought I was like Mom…yeah, I am like Mom, and all these years all I’ve been doing is treating symptoms and not the root cause. In consultation with my new primary care doctor, I weaned off the old medication and started treating the anxiety and the insomnia (anxiety related) properly, and it has made such an amazing difference in my life. I think more clearly, and I can analyze myself better. I’ve also started thinking about how most of my life I’ve tried to avoid confrontation (like Mom) and whenever something has happened that hurt me…well, I’ve tried to avoid those kind of situations again. My trust issues come from the anxiety and being hurt before, and I also realized that my socialization as a child was delayed and/or stunted because of being unable to control my brain. I had undiagnosed ADD as a child, and I feel pretty sure that’s carried over to my adulthood, as well. I couldn’t focus or concentrate because I didn’t know how to shut my brain off or keep it until control. The only time I could find peace, really, was reading or writing.

Professionally, I started off the year by getting nominated for a Lefty for Best Humorous for A Streetcar Named Murder, which was a very pleasant surprise. I debated going, but the timing was bad and with all the traveling I was having to do for family stuff, I had to conserve and preserve paid time off. This was followed up by an Agatha nomination for Best Children’s/Young Adult for #shedeservedit, and this time I did go. I lost to Enola Holmes, but I also became friends with Elizabeth Bunce (we’d been nominated together for an Anthony the year before) and Frances Schoonmaker, who was an absolute delight. I was nominated for three Anthonys at Bouchercon this year–Children’s/YA again; anthology for Land of 10000 Thrills, and Best Humorous for Streetcar again. None of those nominations ended with a win, but for me the nominations alone were the real win. I never ever thought I would be shortlisted for mainstream mystery awards, and what a delightful surprise.

I did publish two novels this year–a new series debuting with Death Drop, and the ninth Scotty, Mississippi River Mischief. I also got an (undeserved) editorial credit for School of Hard Knox, along with Donna Andrews and Art Taylor, for publisher Crippen and Landru–which meant working with my dear friend Jeffrey Marks. I have a story in the book, too–“The Ditch”–which was something I’d been working on forever. I also published two more short stories, “Solace in a Dying Hour” in This Fresh Hell, and “The Rosary of Broken Promises” for Dancing in the Shadows. I’m pleased with both stories, but I also need to get more. I have any number of incomplete projects that are nagging at me that I would like to finish in the new year. SO MANY PROJECTS.

But I feel good today, and very rested. I’d intended to take today as a do-nothing day, but I will probably do stuff because I am not really wired to not do anything all day.

And on that note, I will wish you happy holidays for the moment and head into the…well, not the spice mines, but perhaps a spice resort?

Carol of the Bells

And now it’s Christmas Eve. I slept super-late today, not rising from my bed until almost ten(!!!!) which is unheard of since the weekend after Thanksgiving, when I was still recovering from surgery, but it doesn’t happen often. I started feeling bad yesterday–scratchy throat, stomach upset–and I feel both of those more intently today. I did spend the morning finishing reading Tamara Berry’s Buried in a Good Book, which I really enjoyed; definitely will be more on that later.

I picked up the mail yesterday and came back home, feeling terrible, and spent the day plotting the book and cleaning/organizing the house, going back and forth between the living room and the kitchen and the laundry room. I watched the 2014 Godzilla yesterday, confirming that Monarch: Legacy of Monsters was indeed a sequel; I’m not sure if I need to watch the 2019 Godzilla King of Monsters or not, but it doesn’t seem necessary. Those movies–gigantic creature monster movies–terrified me as a child and gave me nightmares and anxiety; I don’t remember why I watched them in the first place, but I never rewatched them and never had any desire to do so. We started watching the Apple series because I was curious about it, and I find it interesting enough to keep watching; Paul thinks they need more monsters, but this show is more about the backstory/current story of the company Monarch, but they are also out looking for monsters actively while searching for the missing expert, who just happens to be the father of the half-siblings involved in the search. (And the best part of Godzilla was Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who should be a much bigger star than he is, really.)

We also watched more of Looking last night, which I continue to enjoy with each episode. The thing I really like about it is the characters, for good or bad, feel very real to me; these are gay men I’ve known, as opposed to the two-dimensional archetypes of Queer as Folk that I couldn’t relate to at all.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about what I’ll be writing in the new year. I have an old novella, y/a really, that I wrote from the perspective of a teenaged girl that was kind of a sequel to Sorceress; I’ve decided to rewrite it from the point of view of a gay teen and turn into a novel with the title The Grimoire of Broken Dreams, which I think is a better title and makes for a more compelling story. I’m also going to spend some time today rereading some of my books; I really need to reread Death Drop to get more of a sense of Jem’s voice for its sequel. So, yes, even when I am not feeling well I am thinking of new stories, things to work on, and things to prepare me to get back to working hard.

And on that note, I am going to medicate and get cleaned up and try to get something done today. Check in with you again later, Constant Reader, and have a lovely evening.

This Christmas

Saturday morning of a four-day holiday weekend, and I have so much to do today it’s not even funny. I did get some things done yesterday, but PT yesterday morning wore me out–I actually was on an endorphin high when I left Physiofit, which I’ve not experienced in a very long time. Of course it crashed in the afternoon, just as Paul and I dashed over to Costco to get my new microwave, which I am kind of excited about getting set up today and learning how to use over the course of the weekend. I’ve also cleaned out the old one, so it’s ready to be donated to the office so I can take it with me on Wednesday. I also got a check in the mail yesterday for the release of Mississippi River Mischief that I’d completely forgotten about. That was an extremely pleasant surprise. This morning I’m going to finish this and get the kitchen straightened up while drinking coffee…I don’t think there are any bowl games today that I care about, so I don’t think I’ll be having the television on. After I finish this, I am going to read for an hour before getting to work on the kitchen, and then after I get the mail today I am going to write while working on the apartment at the same time. The plan is to spend Christmas doing nothing at all other than relaxing. I have PT on Tuesday, and it’s also the last day of my holiday weekend, so I can get things done that day as well.

I also ordered myself one of those magic bullet things, so I can always have a protein shake smoothie at the office whenever I feel like not eating something unhealthy for lunch, or whenever there’s not a healthy option available. I want to eat healthier in the new year–not a diet, a correction to eating habits–because I really don’t want to gain back the weight I lost during the soft food diet and the surgery. I want to be healthier, and get back to the gym to work out once I’m cleared for it. I also know it won’t be easy, either. So, this year for Christmas I got some books, got my car insurance paid off, got a new microwave and a new battery-powered hand vacuum, and a battery-powered blender. Not bad, I don’t think. I also got a blank journal from a friend, and I really need to thank them.

People have already started their annual round-ups, and I am not sure I really want to do one. Professionally it was a terrific year, while it was a rather difficult one personally. I suppose it’s the Christmas thing, and for New Year’s you come up with resolutions (I prefer setting goals for the new year, myself, and no, I won’t explain that again now, because I inevitably do when I do the new year goal post). My already spotty memory is much worse now from the anesthesia for the surgery, but I’ve been told that effect goes away after a couple of months.

Last night we got caught up on Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, and then watched some episodes of Looking, which we are really enjoying. I am so disappointed in my people for not supporting this marvelous show about gay life in San Francisco in the early twenty-teens, and I am also disappointed I listened to the haters when it was airing and didn’t watch myself. Jonathan Groff is marvelous, and last night we got to meet Russell Tovey’s character, who is playing Groff’s new boss and I strongly suspect that he will be–despite his two-year relationship–Groff’s love interest. Not sure what we’ll watch tonight; perhaps I can spend some time this afternoon looking for movies to watch, although I am kind of interested in Rebel Moon, but Paul didn’t seem terribly interested when we were looking at previews yesterday. I do want to watch The Iron Claw when it’s available.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close. I slept in this morning and the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, and I have a lot that needs doing today. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will probably see you again later today.

Cool Yule

Work-at-home Friday. I had early morning PT this morning, but when I checked my phone when I got home from work my surgeon had called to reschedule, so the rest of the morning for me is free. I’d taken sick time for this morning, which I can now cancel and use at another time, I guess for when the appointment is rescheduled. This was a bummer for me, because this was the removal of stitches and hopefully cleared from the brace appointment. I’d planned all of this out so that I can get it all taken care of on my old insurance, since I have new health insurance in January and a deductible to meet. Ironically, I had just been thinking that despite everything, this wasn’t ruinous financially. I was also hoping to be cleared from PT until late February. Here’s hoping I can be rescheduled next week sometime, but it’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s, so what are the odds that he’s either working or has anything available? I am trying really hard not to get anxiety over this, but it’s kind of hard. Sigh. No sense in stressing about something unknown, so when I finish this I’ll go ahead and call his office.

I knew it was all too good to be true.

But I’m glad I got it taken care of, anyway.

I was tired yesterday. The adventure of making a red velvet cheesecake one-handed and assembling it while making frosting with a nosy high energy kitten exhausted me, and once my caffeine wore off I was exhausted. I did get a great Secret Santa gift–a rechargeable battery operated hand-held vacuum I can use in the car, which I’d been wanting for a while–and I cannot wait to use it. If the weather is sunny this weekend, I may even wash the car. Ooooh, crazy talk, right? And I am getting my new microwave this weekend, which I am unnaturally excited about, frankly. This time I am keeping the instruction manual and teaching myself how to use it properly, rather than just reheating stuff.

I do have a lot to get done this weekend, which was partly why I was hoping to lose the brace for good today. But I can work around it and the High Energy Kitten, who slept so adorably in my lap last night while we watched Reacher and started watching Looking, which we are really enjoying. At the time it came out, it got terrible reviews and queer people seemed to hate it, and no one watched much. At the time I only knew Jonathan Groff from Glee, and not one of its highlights, so it didn’t take much for me to decide not to watch. But now having seen him in Hamilton (on Disney) and in Mindhunter, I was more open to it when Paul suggested it last night, and I was very pleasantly surprised with how realistic it was. It’s very well done, and while I personally didn’t identify with any of the characters, it showed a part of gay life and culture that I know exists. (One of my primary disappointments about the Queer as Folk reboot was the writers clearly weren’t from here–maybe they were, I don’t know–but it wasn’t a real New Orleans I saw on that show, and it was such a missed opportunity. Queer life in New Orleans is very rich and very much a part of the city’s culture in and of itself; imagine doing a queer show set in New Orleans and not mentioning the gay krewes, the leather community, and Southern Decadence is just sitting there, waiting for it’s film/television debut! I primarily watched the entire season for friends who worked as extras–my former supervisor Joey’s drag persona, Debbie with a D, was in the show a lot.)

I also want to finish reading the Tamara Berry novel and move on to the next. I am really enjoying the Berry, despite not being able to focus on reading this week in the evenings, so hopefully part of my cleaning plans this weekend can be broken up with an hour or so of reading every day. I really miss reading. I was scrolling through my ebooks on my iPad, lokoking for a cookbook which was one of the earliest ebook purchases tlast night and was stunned to see how many books I’ve gotten electronically over the years since I got my first iPad back in 2010. (I’d purchased the cookbook in 2011.) So, yes, my TBR stack is much larger than assumed because I never think about the ebooks. Sigh.

And on that note, I need to get to work. Have a lovely Friday Christmas Weekend Eve, Constant Reader, and I’ll probably be back at some point today.

Twistin’ Bells

Thursday and my last day in the office before Christmas. Our department potluck is today, and so yes, last night I had to make a red velvet cheesecake–one-handed. I stopped to make groceries on my way home from work after swinging by the post office to mail the last of my Christmas cards. The one thing I thought for sure I had? Sugar, and no, I didn’t have any in the cabinets…so I walked to Walgreens to get some and didn’t realize until I was there that I was wearing my house shoes…and since I used sweats as pajamas, I’ve officially become a New Orleans elderly eccentric, going out in public in pajamas and house shoes. I do have to finish the cake this morning–putting it together and making the frosting–but the lion’s share of the work is already done, thankfully.

But the layers are uneven, so it will be a little trickier than usual to pull together.

Of course, the frosting will hide any defects in the layers, so…but I doubt very seriously I’ll be making it again. The sugar was only the first hassle in the entire experience; the one-handed was something easily handled, but the kitchen is not big enough to do complicated baking when you have a kitten with big energy and a lot of curiosity. “Don’t lick that! No, don’t walk there! No, you don’t need to climb inside the refrigerator! No, you can’t climb me while I am whipping frosting!” To say I had a bit of an anxiety backslide while making this cake, giving into frustration and everything else felt like a setback, and that carried over to this morning. Heavy sigh. But now that the cake is finished and in its carrier, I can relax, do some deep breathing exercises, and rid myself of the anxiety again.

We started watching Percy Jackson and the Olympians on Disney last night, and it’s much better than the movies; it works better as a television series, frankly, and this time out they cast age-appropriate actors, for one thing. I read the Percy Jackson books, and some of Rick Riordan’s other mythology series until I judged a book prize one year and fell behind on my reading. I did keep buying them, hoping I’d get back to them at some point but never did. It’s a great concept, and the books themselves are better written and better plotted than anything the Chatelaine of Castle TERF ever wrote. They didn’t become the phenomenon that the TERF Queen ever put on paper, more’s the pity. Riordan also wrote a great crime series before he switched to mythology; I enjoyed those crime novels and was really happy to see his career gain traction when he switched to Percy Jackson. I am really looking forward to the entire series, and there should also be a new Reacher this weekend. Huzzah!

I also wrote some more on the book, and it’s falling together. I’ll soon be at the middle section, so hopefully I will be able to figure out the middle part that I always have trouble with. So huzzah! I hope to get a lot of good work done this weekend…I’m also getting my new microwave this weekend, which is kind of exciting, too. I need to figure out some things, and hopefully I’ll have the time to reorganize the kitchen over the course of this weekend as well as prune some books. I also want to finish reading the Tamara Berry so I can move on to another cozy; I have quite a few backed up in the TBR pile.

And I sent the last of my Christmas cards out yesterday.

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

Who Took The Merry Out of Christmas

It’s the Wednesday before Christmas and all through the apartment…the only creature stirring before I got out of bed was one General Touglas McSparkle. He always stays under the bed all night in his fort (Paul calls it his Batcave), but always starts chasing a bottle cap or something right before my alarm goes off, and then will jump into bed and start rubbing against me and purring; when the alarm goes off the first time he curls up next to my head and stays there. Once the alarm goes off for the third time, he jumps down because he knows that’s when I’ll get up, and bee-lines to his food bowl, waiting for me to refill it. He really is smart.

When I got home last night I made some progress on the book, and I also did a load of laundry, emptied the load out of the dishwasher and did another; there’s still a sinkful of dishes, but if I take care of that tonight, I’ll sail into the weekend with a relatively good jump on cleaning things up. I have a follow-up with my surgeon Friday before PT, and I am really hoping the brace, which is becoming more and more cumbersome and inconvenient by the day–I know I have to keep it on, but it’s frustrating because it doesn’t feel like I need it, and its primary purpose is to limit mobility of the arm. Of course, it’s also a constant reminder to be careful; would I lose that mentality once the brace goes and do something to re-injure it or something without the brace? Only time will tell.

It’s cold again this morning ; forty-eight degrees at the moment. I know this is nothing to people up north; but it’s a damp, humid cold, which cuts right through you. (I’m not sure why people are always mocking me for complaining when it gets cold here; I don’t mock people in the summer by mocking them by mentioning how hot it gets here in the summer, either. You acclimate to your climate. And we had probably the most miserable summer of all time this past summer; based on that, I could also point out that the temperature variance here between this past summer and today is between seventy and eighty degrees, which is about the climate difference elsewhere between summer and winter, isn’t it?)

We finished watching the Escaping Twin Flames documentary on Netflix last night, and sorry, Jeff and Shaleih Divine, you are not prophets and you are not God; you are grifters and cult leaders who brainwash your followers. It’s actually a really sad commentary on how lonely some people are; they so desperately want to find their “true love” (“twin flame” in cult-speak) they are willing to go to such great (and awful) lengths to try to find it, and these grifters are just making bank off them. It’s horrible and predatory and not “god-like” at all. And the damage they are doing to queer people is horrifying and off the charts revolting; their definition of divine masculine and feminine (as well as a decided lack of cis-male members) led them to start telling cisgender women that they were spiritually “divine masculine” and needed to start living as transmen–which is what the hateful Right claims that recognizing the gender identity of anyone outside the binary will lead to, proving their disgusting and invalid point that no one truly exists outside that binary: coercive transitioning.

Jeff and Shaleih can just go fuck themselves right off.

And maybe there’s a book in this.

And on that note, it’s time to head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I might be back later; one never really knows.