Tag: Achilles tendons

Bombay Sapphires

Tuesday and the week is underway. Yesterday was a bit more of a challenge than I had hoped when I got up in the morning–mostly day job issues–and I got a bit more tired as the day went on. The temperature changed overnight, going from warm and humid on Sunday in the afternoon to thunderstorms overnight. It was still warm when I went to work in the morning, but the mercury kept falling and it was cold (for New Orleans in March) by noon. It’s even colder this morning–I had to play the New Orleans thermostat game of “heat or cool” last night, settling on heat–as it is a lovely 40 degrees outside at the moment. I slept well again last night, but definitely ran out of energy yesterday afternoon before coming home from work. I just came straight home and collapsed into my chair, doing literally nothing all night other than watching some television and hanging with Paul and Sparky. I went to bed a bit early, too, and man oh man, was the bed and pile o’blankets comfortable this morning when the alarm started beeping. I do have to run errands either tonight or tomorrow night on the way home from work; I guess it will depend on how I feel when I get off work today. I don’t really need to do anything other than get the mail on the way home tonight or tomorrow; I don’t think I need anything from the grocery store that terribly, in all honesty. So, maybe just the mail on the way home tonight and I can push off groceries until the weekend. I may have to go to Alabama later this week for a family funeral–honestly, can people stop dying for a few weeks already–primarily to be supportive of Dad more than anything else….but I am still waiting for details and then can plan (or not plan) accordingly.

Sigh.

Oddly enough, both this blog and the newsletter have been picking up subscribers lately, which is interesting, and even more interesting is I’ve also been getting a lot of comments (more than usual, which is none) lately, too. I try not to think about that sort of thing too much, because it becomes pressure and worrying about offending people–which would change the content of both. My attitude toward the blog and newsletter has always been I write them for myself and share them. If you like or enjoy reading them, do so! If you don’t, please spare yourself the aggravation and don’t read either. I think this has always been the case with anything I write–I write what I want to and feel passionately about, and hope other people like it. I also don’t need to know if you don’t–which is why I never log into Goodreads or read the reviews on Amazon. Once it is out of my hands, the work is literally out of my hands and there’s nothing I can do it about it anymore anyway. So, why does anyone need to experience that kind of negativity or positivity? Don’t read your reviews is probably the best advice I was given all those years ago when I got started–and I gradually learned the hard way that it was good advice. I know we all have a need for praise for our work, but my peace of mind is more important to me than seeing mean or cruel reviews on websites, you know?

Speaking of reviews, here’s a lovely one from Frank Gaimari, and yes, I did read that one. I also watched that one on Youtube I shared here a week or so ago, which was also very good. I’m starting to feel better about that book, and realize a lot of the way I feel about the book is because I became so truly ill while trying to finish it; the two things aren’t related in the least, and I should stop associating them together. I am making progress on this whole be kinder to yourself thing lately, too.

I feel more alive and functional today than I did yesterday, and maybe today will be a day where I can get some shit done tonight when I get home from work. I don’t feel sore anywhere this morning–other than some tightness in the Achilles tendons, but I can walk without limping, which is nice–and tonight I should use the massage gun on them again, as well as the ice machine. Progress is progress!

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

This image of fog rolling into Venice always makes me think of Don’t Look Now. I do love Venice.

Love Changes

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. I feel rested, but I didn’t want to get out of bed, either. Hey, it was comfortable, and Sparky was even curled up with me, too. It was supposed to rain overnight, but it doesn’t look wet outside. We’re supposed to have a lot of high wind today, and then tomorrow it won’t get warmer than the 40s. Yikes!

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day, but I was still kind of tired and worn out from the previous week, but I did get things done around here. I’m not finished cleaning by any means, but the place looks a lot better already and I cleaned up around the work space especially. I didn’t watch the Academy Awards, but followed on social media–much more bearable that way–and was delighted to see both Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan did win awards for their work on Sinners, which was excellent and quite an achievement in film making. I’ve been a fan of Jordan since he was on All My Children, and how nice that he has an Oscar now. I’ve seen most of his films, and he is just a top-tier actor; he was exceptional in Sinners, and I’m glad the double role of Smoke and Stack showcased his abilities and was recognized. (I’m a big fan of Lee Marvin’s Oscar winning dual role in Cat Ballou, too.)

While I was cleaning yesterday, I found my massage gun! I had forgotten I had one. One of my co-workers has one (he moonlights as a pole dancer), and brought it to work a few years ago and used it on my upper back, and I immediately ordered one of my own. I promptly turned it on and used on not only my aching lower back, but also on my Achilles tendons, and it absolutely did the trick! My tendons didn’t get sore until I was climbing the stairs to go to bed last night, which was marvelous, and this morning they feel fine. So, we’ll see–and should they tighten up again, I’ve now remembered the magic healing powers of the massage gun!

I have to say, I wasn’t sure originally whether I should write a newsletter tribute to Lauren Henderson Saturday. As I said in the newsletter, it was complicated, and I was struggling with her loss, frankly. I figured that it would take me a long time to process those complicated feelings, but Saturday morning when I started writing about her it started flowing…and writing it was incredibly cathartic. Why do I so rarely remember that the best way for me to sort my thoughts and process things is to write about them? Writing it took me from the shock and disbelief and sadness to actual grief, and so while I did worry a bit about it being too personal or perhaps making her passing about me rather than her, I am glad that I did. I have also seen some other glorious tributes to her from others, including Sarah Weinman, Lisa Jewell, and Ayo Onatado. I was also worried about making her death about me, which didn’t feel right, either.

Sigh.

I did spend some time yesterday being creative and doing some brainstorming and note-taking, and also spent some time revisiting Barbara Tuchman’s The March of Folly (can’t imagine why), which had me thinking about how we are currently witnessing our country betray itself once again and for what? Folly. Everything now is a folly–and future historians will write reams about this time.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, and I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.

Gorgeous Connor Storrie of Heated Rivalry fame

Too Far from Texas

Work-at-home Friday, and I have a lot to do today. I have a meeting this morning, some paperwork to get taken care of, and then I have like a gazillion errands to run. I have to pick up a prescription, get the mail, pay bills, and run by Costco–and who knows what else is on the agenda? It will develop, no doubt, as the day passes and I remember other things I need to do and/or pick up. I slept in this morning a bit (thank you, Sparky) and was feeling a bit stiff and sore when I got up. I did ice my left calf last night (the Achilles tendons were screaming) and everything feels a bit tired this morning. I was very productive after work, despite being exhausted when I got home from the office. I stopped on my way home from work at Office Depot to pick up mailing envelopes so I can finally mail out this stack of books on my desk, and collapsed into my easy chair, turning myself into a cat bed for a while so my ankle could be iced and I caught up on the news (ugh) and a few episodes of The Traitors UK to cleanse my mind of negativity, gloom and despair. But while I was sitting there and my purr machine was in my lap, I relaxed enough so I could get up and do some chores before going to bed…so I came downstairs to a relatively clean kitchen and workspace this morning, which was lovely. I have a meeting in a bit before doing some more quality assurance in my chair before I am freed to go attempt to clear my errands and settle back into my chair for more Traitors and the LSU-Arkansas Gymnastics meet tonight.

I’m still debating about the new iPad, but am starting to really lean into it. It won’t kill me to drive out to the Apple Store tomorrow morning, and the parade won’t affect my ability to do that, either–or I can look at them at Costco when I swing by there this afternoon. Yes, I’ve decided finally to go ahead and get the new one. It’s a very nice little reward for myself, and I am going to be completely responsible for the rest of this found money gift from Victoria.1

The sun is shining outside this morning, but it felt terribly cold in the bathroom this morning–yes it is a mere 58 degrees outside on this Friday the 13th–which means the sun will make it very hot inside the car as I drive around this afternoon.

I also have a lot of emails to reply to, as well as some serious organizing to get done around here. As I was cleaning last night, I was thinking about writing and reading and think I might be about ready to climb back into the saddle. I do miss both reading and writing, and they definitely spark joy for me, so I should get back to it. I think finding joy in these dark times we are experiencing is vital to our mental health and our survival. During the pandemic, Schitt’s Creek and Ted Lasso filled those roles for me, and now I have Heated Rivalry and The Traitors. I also really love the entire cast of Heated Rivalry, and seeing them blow up into global stars out of nowhere in just a few months has been so delightful to watch–the fact it’s a queer show makes it even more amazing and phenomenal (I suspect, given how the Hollywood formula is to make carbon copies from successes, we are going to see a lot of pale imitators–whether the athletes play hockey or some other sport, they aren’t going to look much past the surface veneer to understand what made the show so successful and the cast so popular).

There has been some amazing queer film and television this decade thus far.

And on that note, I need to get busy and ready for my first meeting of the day. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

Aerial view of Queen Hatshepsut’s temple on the west bank of the Nile
  1. I’m still incredibly honored and touched that she left me a nice little gift in her will, and she would have wanted me to indulge myself a bit. ↩︎

Love’s a Hard Game to Play

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and a lovely weekend to be sure–despite the time change tomorrow, which I always hate–and I had a lovely night’s sleep, actually. I actually slept late this morning, which is wild; not arising from the pile of blankets and comfortable bed until almost nine thirty this morning. Progress, though, is thinking I must have needed more sleep rather than bashing myself for oversleeping. Sparky was also a sweetheart this morning and let me sleep until his hunger overcame him and he whimpered at me, making me open my eyes and look at the clock and think oh, need to get up, don’t I? I feel good this morning, if a bit foggy because the coffee hasn’t started kicking in yet, either. My plan for today was to take it easy and do more chores around reading (and yes, probably some time spent with The Traitors) since I didn’t get everything done yesterday that I wanted to–but the dishes and the laundry are finished. I need to run a brief errand today, too–a quick run by the Fresh Market on the way home from picking up the mail–and then I will be back home for the rest of the day. It was gorgeous outside yesterday as I ran from doctor’s appointment to doctor’s appointment (everything went well, all my vitals and so forth are okay, my blood pressure excellent, etc–always lovely news to hear, you know? Today looks gorgeous, too, which is pretty great; I think the cold is behind us now and it’s a steady march to our brief spring before the horrors of the summer heat return again.

Yesterday was mellow, honestly. I got up, got cleaned up, had my meeting and did some at-home work before i had to start the round of appointments. When I got home from all of that I started cleaning, while watching The Traitors when I took a little break. I also had some creative moments during the day, coming up with several short story ideas while my hands were busy but my mind free, and of course, Sparky imprisoned me for my lap so he could nap for several hours, but I still managed to get a lot of things done while trying not to disturb him; which I don’t get, he’ll just go back to sleep after giving me a groan and serious side-eye but why do I always feel guilty about waking him up? He really is a sweet boy, despite all the scabs and scars on my hands and arms from his claws. I also need to spend some time icing my Achilles tendons, which are still sore but it’s at least bearable now and I can walk normally again, thank God. Tomorrow will be my ambitious day, where I finish the things I didn’t get to today while writing and reading. I really need to finish my newsletter, and get it sent out.

I also definitely need to do some filing and organizing, and I need to find an old contract, too, and I need to find my to-do notebook, which I’ve not been able to look at this week because I didn’t know where it was (other than it not being in my backpack, where it belongs and should always stay) so I can add some things and cross off what I managed to get done this week. Starting the week off being sick really discombobulated me, and I never felt like I got my feet into the groove of the week. I hate that it’s so easy to throw me off and so hard for me to get back on track when my routines are disrupted.

I started season 2 of the UK Traitors yesterday, and it is really interesting how you quickly become involved with the cast, forgetting about the previous season’s in a matter of moments. I do think I like the UK host better than Alan Cumming; Claudia cheers them on during the challenges, and seems genuinely interested in them winning the challenges and adding money to the final prize. Thank you for putting up with this obsession of mine; I should stop talking about it and simply keep watching so I can write about the show for my newsletter.

And on that note, I am going to repair to my easy chair to catch up on the news before today’s errands are to be run. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with the time change. Ugh.

Gorgeous door frame sculpture in Florence, one of my favorite places in the world

Just Like a Woman

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week. I am feeling so much better than I did over the weekend and the first few days of this work week and also am feeling a bit more centered than I have since that morning last Monday when there was no water pressure and we were in a boil water advisory. I wound up spending all of last week off-balance, got sick over the weekend (I was coming down with it on Friday evening, and it peaked on Sunday and Monday, with some left over on Tuesday when I went back to the office), and now I finally feel more like myself. Thank God, right? It was so lovely waking up this morning without a head full of snot and a sore throat and post-nasal drip *shudder*. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting in the morning and then have doctors’ appointments in the afternoon, and we do need to go to Costco. I’m not sure how this weekend will turn out–productive or restful, or some combination of the two. I’ve not done any chores these past couple of days, and I really should take care of them tonight so I don’t have to come down to a messy kitchen/office space again, and there’s some laundry I should also get done. It’s always so tempting to sit in my chair and catch up on the news before watching more of The Traitors (yes I am obsessed with that show, and I am revisiting things that spark joy in me–anything Alysa Liu or Amber Glenn related, anything Heated Rivalry, anything Ilia Malinin and US women’s hockey, too) with Sparky not helping matters any by sleeping in my lap.

Obviously, it doesn’t take much to kick me off-track, does it? It was lovely to finally feel good again yesterday, and I feel like I should point out that my Achilles tendons are doing much better. The left is fine, but the right is still a bit tender and tight, so will ice it again thoroughly tonight and periodically over the weekend. I want to start stretching again too. The Achilles tendon issue has delayed my return to working out and exercise, but there’s no reason I can’t start stretching again before I feel up to returning to the gym.

I remembered something over the weekend that I’d completely forgotten about, and once I did, I stewed about it for a few days before deciding what I wanted to do. If you will recall, my close friend Victoria died about a year ago, and she left me a gift in her will, which was an absolute shock. I signed the letter from the probate attorney and forgot about it. His office contacted me on Friday that the estate has been probated and I would be getting the gift in a short amount of time, which was a lovely surprise. But this weekend when I was moving things around I came across copies of a book I wrote that I completely forgot about, which is wild to me. In 2009 or 2010, Victoria decided she wanted to start a small press for diverse children’s and young adult fiction. I wasn’t sure it was a great idea–2009 and 2010 weren’t a good time in publishing; this was during the indy/trad author wars, when ebooks were really changing the entire industry–but she knew I had written a couple of young adult manuscript in the earl 1990s and they were collecting dust in a drawer (we’d talked about this when I met the y/a editor from a major press who was familiar with my work and wanted me to submit a manuscript–but Katrina happened and I let that opportunity slip through my grasp), and she wanted to publish one of them (the other two were Sleeping Angel and Sara, which I sold to Bold Strokes). They weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything with any of them, so I thought, knowing the odds of me making any money off it were slim to none, but…she was my friend and I wanted to help her out, so I let her publish Sorceress. Like I said, though, it wasn’t a good time to be launching a traditional publishing company (she hated ebooks), and I didn’t worry about it. I promoted the book the best I could, but have no idea how well it sold, if it sold at all, because I never got a sales statement or a royalty check–but I want to be very clear about this: I loved Victoria and I didn’t care. She had wanted me to write a sequel, which I did a first draft of, but never revised or anything. I never brought it up, she never brought it up, and I had no desire to make her feel bad or guilty about it, so why bring it up? People I know who did read it liked it–it was my first real stab at writing Gothic suspense/horror–but like I said, I gave it to her freely with the full expectation of never seeing a cent.

But now that she’s no longer with us (at least once a day I miss her still) I kind of would like to have the rights to it back, and maybe revise it and put it up as an indy book. (I know, I have to get Jackson Square Jazz up and going, too.) And since she left me a gift, why not use that gift to get these two books–and my next short story collection–up independently? But what about the sequel? It’s not necessarily tied to the first book–different characters, for one–but the same California mountain town (same as Sleeping Angel, too). Anyway, it’s something to ponder.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and I’ll be back in the morning yet again!

Sometimes It’s a Bitch

Ah, Wednesday morning in the Lost Apartment and I guess all is well–no mice stirring, I hope–and it should be another lovely day in New Orleans. I am hoping I am all better this morning; yesterday the cold was more annoying than anything else, really, and the constant having to blow my nose was aggravating. I slept really well and I feel pretty good so far–all I think is going on is some mild throat scratchiness and some mild head congestion, but feeling good when I first get up should be indicative of a pretty good day ahead. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday in the clinic, and was able to get caught up on my work despite missing Monday. Today isn’t bad, either–tomorrow is the busiest day on the schedule–and so tonight when I get home I absolutely need to do some chores I intended to do last night but…had to be a lap for a needy kitty while I caught up on the horrible news. Apparently he started another war while I slept? I am really tired of living in interesting times.

Does Maureen Dowd still stand by her column “Donald the Dove, Hillary the Hawk”? I won’t give the New York Times a dime of my money ever again, so I can’t check in on her–but that column alone should provide enough shame and disgrace that she should retire and disappear, forever, from public life. It’s funny, but I think some people are finally starting to wake up to “it could never happen here” to “holy shit, when did this happen?” Well, you know, Bill’s peccadilloes were Hillary’s fault and Kamala didn’t work at McDonalds and that LAUGH! Fascism is far, far better than either of those options, right? Future generations–if we don’t end up in a nuclear apocalypse–will look back and wonder, “They really hated women so much they were willing to give up their liberties. Wow.” I also see that Texas restricted voting in the Democratic primary–can’t imagine what they’ll do in the general, can you? They are going to do everything they can to suppress and/or rig the midterms–and that will be the end of the country as we knew it. Some of it deserved to die–the bigotry baked into the system, for one–but it’s better than what we’re going to have come the new year, believe you me. I hate being pessimistic like that, but you really can’t ever go wrong overestimating how evil the Right is in this country at this point in time. I’ve been ringing the warning bells since the 1990s, and oh, how I hate being proven right.

And I still keep hoping, as I have ever since the 90s, that I am wrong.

As my coffee kicks in and I am awake longer, I am feeling even better. This is the best I’ve felt in the morning in days, and I am neither groggy nor tired, which is also pretty nice. My Achilles tendons feel not bad this morning, either–I did spend some time icing them last night, which I really need to do every night until they aren’t sore anymore. Physically I feel better than I have in a few weeks–which is very nice, too; I’d forgotten what I felt like to not ache somewhere.

I’d been listening to Taylor Swift’s The Life of a Showgirl in the car, mystified why this record was bashed so much, when it finished playing yesterday and Spotify went into one of those “if you listened to that you may like this” mixes. First up was Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club,” which I’d only heard snippets of before and never all the way through, and you know, I liked it. It then mixed in a Charlie XCX song–I’d heard of her, but never heard her–and I kind of liked that too. I haven’t listened to the radio in decades–not since playing music through the car stereos from my iPod or iPhone became an option, any way–and so I’ve not been familiar with a lot of the popular current music since then. (Although the people I’d heard of nominated for Grammys has steadily declined since the 1990s, too.) So, I think I am going to queue up some new(er) artists. Why not? Expand my brain a bit and get out of the comfort zone? It also might be nice to know what people are talking about when they talk about popular music…and not feel like a rusty relic from another time. (Which is what I actually am, aren’t I? Sigh.)

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Hope your day is as wonderful as you are, Constant Reader, and please know how grateful I am for all eternity that you check in periodically!

A gilded cross in the plaza by il Duomo in Florence

Unconditional Love

Saturday morning and all is well here in the Lost Apartment. Yesterday turned out lovely, after the rain, there was this lovely chill dampness to the air that was quite nice. I got all of my work done without a problem, and worked on the house. The kitchen looks terrific now–I still need to do the floors and some touch up; same with living room–and it was nice to come downstairs to a very clean kitchen and work space. I also did all the dishes and all the laundry! I also spent some time icing my ankles, and will probably do that some more today. I never got around to writing yesterday, and I didn’t read anything I have in progress already (I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with my brain lately), but as I was moving things around I picked up a couple of books that I paged through a bit (The Last Picture Show and Michelangelo, but more on those later), so that’s something. I watched the reunions for The Traitors seasons 3 and 4, which were fun (more on those later). When Paul came down, I finished the day’s chores and settled in for the LSU-Dartmouth baseball game, before we switched over to the LSU Gymnastics meet against Alabama (yes, if you didn’t know already, we are a very LSU house), and then it was off to bed. I slept really well for the first time in a while, and feel rested. My Achilles tendons also need icing this morning before I head out for my errands later this morning.

Today, I am going to pick up the mail, and make some groceries on the way back home. I had planned on washing the car, but now I don’t think I am going to. I also need to get mailing envelopes because I’ve been terribly lazy about sending the copies of my book to the people I need to; but this whole month has been kind of weird in some ways, which I am still thinking about and processing. I am also a little freaked out that tomorrow is March 1 already, but that’s how time passes in New Orleans in the first two months of the year. It also looks gray outside this morning, but it’s supposed to be sunny and warm by the early afternoon.

As I had mentioned, as I was moving books around yesterday, I came across copies of Larry McMurtry’s The Last Picture Show and Michelangelo by William E. Wallace, both books I enjoyed, and The Last Picture Show was influential on me, I think, as a writer. The Last Picture Show was basically another, male-driven version of Peyton Place–the dark, dirty sex secrets of a small town, and it also made me a lifelong fan of McMurtry. (I also loved the film version.) I was going to reread it a few summers ago, but I gave up on the read when we got to the calf-fucking and taking Billy to the hooker who bloodied his nose. Billy was unable to give consent to anything, so from a modern reading this entire sequence is pretty disturbing, but I think I will give it another go because of how the book treats homosexuality; I’d like to see the book through that lens, and see precisely how the future Oscar winning screenwriter of Brokeback Mountain dealt with it in an early novel.

Left Coast Crime is criming right now, and of course I am enjoying everyone’s social media posts, but…I don’t have any FOMO? Considering FOMO has been a major driving factor throughout my life, and often to my own detriment, I think this is some serious personal growth. I never really liked the “pick me” side of my fractured personality, and I am not in the least bit sorry to banish that part of my brain into some remote, dusty and not easily accessed back wrinkle in the very back of my skull. I think this is a big step forward for me, you know?

Connor Storrie is hosting Saturday Night Live tonight, and I may stay up to watch some of it–I can also replay it on Peacock tomorrow morning, or find clips on Youtube if I can’t stay up that late. They are also bringing on one or two of the Hughes bros–trying to rehab them in front of the audience Connor will bring them (straight women and gay men–yeah, I am sure they’ll be embraced by the live audience and we should be prepared for NBC to mute any negative audience reactions to their stain of an appearance. Since NBC also hosts the Olympics, obviously they feel the need to rehabilitate the men who can’t say sorry, ladies, we totally fucked up in the moment and we are so sorry to spit in your faces about your accomplishments like that. You see how institutions always rally to the cause of infantile boys who never grow up? I do love the way the country has stepped up for the women, though. My favorite thing this past week has been reading the comments on the social media posts of the NHL or the teams’ accounts.

And I think a harsh critique and rebuke of that infantilizing “boys will be boys/locker room talk” enabling bullshit is in order, and could be the introduction to my essays series on masculinity. Hmmm.

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

David Florentine is a great New Orleans photographer; check out his work! I especially love the spectral mist in this shot. You can check out his website here.

Rose Garden

Good morning! I’m feeling good this morning after a lovely evening of sleep and an even lovelier day of doing very little. I must confess I did feel a bit on the guilty side last evening when I went up the stairs and slid under the covers; but the way I feel this morning makes me think that it was a very good thing that I took a rest day, really. Paul also took a rest day–he wore himself out with a couple of all nighters–and so things were quiet and calm around here all day. I had intended to only sit for a moment and ice my ankles, but Sparky curled up into my lap and I put on season 2 of The Traitors, Paul came downstairs and got under the blankets on the couch…and that’s primarily what I did yesterday: binge-watched The Traitors all the way through the reunion. I have figured out how they keep us hooked and watching–all those cliffhangers and twists and turns–because every time the credits roll I have to see what happened. Paul’s been calling me an addict all week, but yesterday he was the one with the “We have to see who they killed” or “start the next one so we find out if the recruit said yes” and finally I said, “yes, but I’m the addict” and we had a marvelous laugh. We finished up the second season around eleven thirty, but “had to start the third” to see who was in the cast.

I don’t think I’ve been this involved in a show in quite some time? Certainly not a reality show, in any case. We also want to watch the Tyra documentary on Netflix because we used to marathon America’s Next Top Model when they would do marathons on some network–I want to say Bravo but I know that’s wrong–Bravo was our go-to for marathons of The West Wing and Law and Order back in the day. We gradually stopped watching–some of the stuff they did on the show made me uncomfortable, honestly–so I am interested in watching. I knew the show had to be a train wreck behind the scenes, because well, Tyra Banks, and I’d also like to watch the one about The Biggest Loser–a show I never watched because (blech) Jillian Michaels (vomit), plus I worked in fitness for nearly ten years, so I knew, just from the commercials, that it wasn’t good for the contestants and no one seemed to be concerned about their safety, physical and mental. I’ve also never watched any of the romance ones (although I loved the fictional show unReal) because it just seemed…I don’t know, absurd; at first they seemed cringy to me–“who wants to go on television to find a life partner?”–but there’s an audience for them apparently. (Also, I found out it incredibly insensitive and insulting that “marriage equality” was undermining the sanctity of marriage while straight people not only mocked marriage with these shows but made it blatantly obvious how little the actual undermining of the sanctity of marriage truly bothered anyone; it was just the usual homophobic trash with a cross up their ass…and that’s not even mentioning adultery and divorce…)

Sigh. The hypocrisy of the straights never ceases to surprise me.

I did spend some time yesterday cleaning the boxes of books off the top of the cabinets. I have two more to go; it was difficult with the Achilles tendons tightness to climb up and down the ladder, but I also cleared off the top shelf in the pantry for this contents of these boxes. The kitchen is a mess–a bad one, at that–so I am going to spend some time on that this morning when I finish this. I would like to read and do some writing, too, but I am also not going to beat myself to death if I don’t. I feel good this morning but I do need to ice the ankles again today, so I am not entirely sure I won’t get sucked into the comfort of my easy chair and purring kitty sleeping in my lap with the remote control right there on the side table. I did get a lot of the laundry done–there’s very little left going into the week–and I would like to get the pantry/laundry room into some sort of tidy order. Ah, dreams are lovely things, aren’t they?

But in taking the boxes down I also found some books that reminded me of how my childhood interest in history took off–the juvenile histories of Genevieve Foster, “parallel histories” is how she described them, which is kind of what A Distant Mirror by Barbara Tuchman is, so yes, there must be a blog essay about these books and how they inevitably got me incredibly interested in history and how it is all connected (also how it constantly repeats). I paged through some of them while bingeing The Traitors yesterday–I bought copies after Katrina, probably in an attempt to reconnect with my personal history, which I did a lot of in those years–and memories came flooding back; and I also remembered a lot of the contents of those books, too. The first one I read–and I checked them out of the library at Eli Whitney Elementary regularly–was George Washington and His World…and I loved the concept of all that historical information being given to give context to that time and that world. So, my wanting to write that kind of history of the sixteenth century was probably already wired into my brain before reading A Distant Mirror, and probably partly why I loved it so much. I also pruned books out of the bookcases and some of the boxes, which is more progress on the house. Next weekend, I’ll drop some boxes of books at the library sale and will also probably drop off beads at ArcGNO.

And on that note, I’m going to get more coffee and make some breakfast. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning! See you then!

A terrific shot by Linda Minutola, who does great work! Best place to get a burger grilled under a hubcap!

Juliet

This is an Alysa Liu fan page, for the record. How amazing was her free skate at the Olympics? She was just joy personified on the ice, and seriously, you can never go wrong skating to anything by Donna Summer (I would love to see ice dancers skate to “I Feel Love,” honestly). I was at work while the women skated, but had it playing on my phone while I worked, casting glances at it here and there throughout the hours it was on. I happened to look when Amber Glenn was skating, but at the point where she messed up the landing on that damned triple loop jump, and thought, oh no, poor Amber so I stopped watching for a bit…so was thrilled and surprised to see that Amber had climbed into first place. Isabeau Levito had a tough time out there, too. I watched Alysa skate and it made my heart full. I didn’t see the silver medalist skate–the young woman I thought would win it all–but came back in time for the final skater to see Alysa still in first. The young Japanese girl who got the bronze didn’t have a clean go of it, but she is also beautiful and a gorgeous skater who will be fun to watch in the years to come, and Alysa won the gold medal! I couldn’t wait to get home to watch again, so I could see her do it. (I actually came back to it when she had finished and said, into the camera, That’s what I’m fucking talking about! I also loved that she swore a few more times after coming off the ice. Amber climbed all the way up to fifth–just missing out on a medal by a few points; had she not missed the landing on that loop she may have climbed up into third. Alysa’s individual medal is the first for the US since Sasha Cohen got silver back in 2006, and the first gold since Sarah Hughes in 2002.1

Sigh, I love the Olympics, and I especially love the figure skating. I was also happy to see Ilia Malinin bouncing back from his difficult men’s final, hanging out with other athletes just watching in the stands, or with Martha Stewart and Snoop (I’ve yet to forgive him for his homophobia and his MAGA appearances), hanging with Simone Biles (one of the many superstars of sport who reached out to him), or my personal favorite–the pictures with Tara Lipinski’s daughter Georgie. I also loved seeing skaters supporting each other, cheering for each other and congratulating each other (or consoling, whatever the case may be), which is a very refreshing change over the last few years. The sports broadcasting narrative–the competitive rivalries were also personal ones–always made it seem like the skaters hated each other (true in some instances) but for the most part, they’ve known each other and competed and toured with each other since they were kids so2…

Work at home Friday and here we go! I had a nice day at work yesterday, with not a lot of clients so I was able to get caught up on almost everything. I have some quality assurance work to do and some data entry, around getting the house under control. I’m going to have some things delivered either today or tomorrow, and I’m going to run uptown tomorrow to get the mail and stop by the Fresh Market for fresh meat and berries. My Achilles tendons feel okay this morning, but I’m going to ice them anyway while I hopefully sit in my chair doing the quality control stuff.

I’m sorry the Olympics are coming to an end. So many feel-good moments, as always, and so many athletes I’d never heard of before having great Olympic moments, you know? I do think my favorites of these Olympics were Nazgûl the Olympic dog (google it if you’re unaware–he was a very good boy!), and the absolutely charming Japanese figure skating team–their joy in skating and each other was delightful to see. And in a selfish way, I’m kind of glad Ilia got a gold but not an individual medal, which means we’ll get at least four more years of his amazing skating and technical achievements. Is a quint next?

We also watched this week’s episode of The Traitors, and I was terribly disappointed to see Johnny and Tara come so close only to blow it in the end. We have another week to find out who the last murder victim will be (my money’s on Johnny or Mark; if I were Rob and Eric I’d murder JOhnny so Tara can be a wreck and a distraction for the other faithfuls. God how I love this show! We also started watching this week’s episode of The Beauty, which is so off-the-rails and insane–and every time I see him on my screen I loathe pedo-defender Ashton Kutcher more and more. He’s also terrible in this show; how did he ever have a career past his “oh isn’t he cute and dumb” phase. I never thought he was all that, to be honest, and very one-note. Kind of perfect for a show called The Beauty, now that I think about it. It really is a terribly written show, and most of the dialogue is very cringe, as the kids would say. The cast is talented (except for Kutcher) but it’s a shame watching them try to create something out of the beautiful nothing they were given to work with. It’s definitely a hate-watch, at this point, and this last episode–are we really supposed to believe a billionaire would go to that much trouble to shut down an FBI investigation when all he would have to do is donate money to whatever MAGA bullshit grift going on at the moment and the DOJ would shut that shit down faster than Usain Bolt could run at his peak.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the morning. I am going to try to get some things done before my workday starts with an online meeting. Have a great Friday, darling Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning.

Seriously, dude–why not just wear the black tights underneath? But definitely pretty. Professional wrestling is so homoerotic!
  1. Not that she would ever do such a thing–and especially because she lost gold to Americans in 1998 and 2002, so it doesn’t make sense–but I actually wondered if US Olympic skating was cursed after Michelle Kwan won silver and bronze despite being favored. ↩︎ ↩︎
  2. Tonya-Nancy being the most famous–and they had been friends before. ↩︎

Escape from Berlin

It’s Lundi Gras morning, with my favorite parade–Orpheus1–rolling tonight, and I have two more days before returning to work. I am enjoying this little mini-vacation very much. My Achilles tendons are still a bit sore, so after I get home from the errands I have to run this morning, I am in for the day until Orpheus arrives tonight–unless it rains. It looks a bit gloomy outside the windows, if I am being totally honest. It does happen–and it’s been a hot minute since it’s rained, you know? I slept really well the last two nights, and I feel pretty good. I think another easy day of reading and hanging out around the house while doing some chores sounds lovely. I also spent most of yesterday off-line, and that was marvelous. I like that I am spending less and less time on social media. The world is burning, and doomscrolling isn’t much help with that, you know?

We made art during HIV/AIDS, didn’t we?

I did wake up early yesterday after a lovely night’s sleep, and had a pretty good day around the house. I emptied the dishwasher and ran it again, did some straightening up and organizing around here, and had the pairs figure skating short program on the television while I finished reading The Secret of Hangman’s Inn, and started reading another old series book, The Egyptian Cat Mystery, a Rick Brant science adventure. (Rick Brant is another one of my favorites.) I am going to try to read some of the Eli Cranor today, with some more of the Brant, too. I think I may also start Sarah Weinman’s Without Consent as well. I think going forward I will stick with the three–a new fiction read, a reread, and a nonfiction–going forward is my reading plan. I do need to start reading voraciously again; I miss it. I also need to write about Hangman’s Inn. I also managed to send out another promotional newsletter about Hurricane Season Hustle, which you can read by clicking here.

If the weather does hold and my ankles feel okay, I may take a walk later today to get some pictures of the bead trees blooming and all the debris along the sidewalk and in the trees. I feel rested, and Sparky was very cuddly this morning under my warm pile of blankets in the bed. I want to do some writing today, but I may not; it depends on how I feel when I get home from the errands.

We binged more of season four of The Traitors, and I love everything about this show. I cannot believe none of y’all told me I needed to watch this show. I mean, it checks ALL my boxes–murders, pettiness, camp, a castle, robes with cowls, lanterns and torches and executioners! Alan Cumming is having the best time camping it up as the host–and there are some iconic lines on this show; currently my favorite is “snatched tighter than a housewife’s jawline.” And there are three previous seasons to catch up on! It’s all so deliciously Gothic, which I love. We have one more episode from this season before we are caught up, and we’ll probably watch that either tonight or tomorrow; I’m sure Paul has to work, and I know he has his trainer today, too. I should be able to get some reading and writing done today, and today I can finish the floors–which I’ve put off all weekend.

The emails can wait until Wednesday, seriously.

And on that note, I am going to go get cleaned up so I can run my errands. Have a lovely Lundi Gras Monday wherever you may be, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow for Fat Tuesday.