Tag: Achilles tendons

We’re Ready

Friday and I have to go to a meeting at work this morning, and will probably spend the rest of the work-day there to get my usual Friday hours. We’ll see how I feel after the meeting–if I want to stay or go back home to do some quality assurance. I am meeting two friends for drinks late this afternoon and am having dinner with still another friend directly after. All this social activity will probably end up with me lying on the easy chair all day tomorrow recovering. I guess we’ll see how it all turns out. ut there are worse things, you know? I slept well again last night and don’t feel exhausted this morning, so that’s a good thing; I just don’t know how long I am going to last today. But it’s nice to not feel tired despite getting up early on a day I usually get to sleep a little later. I also wonder if my new special shoes have anything to do with my legs not being tired this morning?

Yes, I had to buy a pair of expensive specialty corrective shoes–specifically for flat-footed people whose feet also pronate–and they cost $150 (I know, I just think spending more than a hundred dollars for athletic walking shoes is insane). I used my income tax refund to pay for a pair (my doctor told me I should try them) and I started wearing them this week. At first, they felt a little weird and not much difference, but I realized last night that my legs hadn’t been tired all week and even the Achilles tendons aren’t complaining nearly as much as they did before. I was hoping that my doctor was incorrect and I wouldn’t have to pay this much for shoes again, but it looks like I am definitely going to have to keep buying these shoes. I’ll eventually stop resenting spending the money, and it’s worth it to not have my legs aching all the time.

LSU Gymnastics won their regional qualifier last night, and scored their highest score of the season, despite leaving points on the mats. The regional final is tomorrow, so here’s hoping LSU makes it to the national semi-finals. They have a good shot at winning the national title yet again this year, which is incredibly exciting. GEAUX TIGERS! And Kailin Chio got two 10’s! It was fun to watch, and I am looking forward to this weekend’s regional final.

The good news/bad news of yesterday was of course, the firing of Nazi bitch Pam Bondi. For the record, Ms. Christian is on her fourth husband while fighting against marriage equality in Florida, and this regime didn’t corrupt her; she was a disgrace to the bar as Attorney General of Florida. Here’s hoping she’s disbarred and eventually charged for crimes committed under her oversight. Everything he touches dies–and isn’t it hilarious how many people can convince themselves to throw morality under the bus and work for him, thinking they’ll be the exception to come out smelling like a rose? But don’t blame the regime for Bondi’s evil–her evil and corruption was why she got the job in the first place. Look who’s the loser lawyer now, bitch! Start praying, and may you never have a moment’s peace any time you go out in public.

It’s also Easter weekend with today being Good Friday; the Crescent City Classic is also this weekend (tomorrow) but it won’t affect me; the route is from Poydras and Rampart to City Park–so CBD and Midcity neighborhoods, not my frequent haunts, which is a very good thing. That means I can run errands tomorrow after all, so I can just stay home on Easter and take it easy. Huzzah!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Good Friday, however you choose to spend it, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with a smile on my face and my eyes all bright!

Few things were sexier than a pretty boy in cut-off jeans in the early 1980s—and Christopher Atkins definitely fit that bill

I Think I Like It

Tuesday morning and I woke up before the alarm went off, and only hit snooze once. I actually feel pretty good at the moment–we’ll see how long it lasts, won’t we–and so am hoping for a pretty good day. Taking yesterday off was pretty wise, as I felt like I was a dragging a bit yesterday. I did manage to get some things done yesterday, too, so I feel like this shortened week is already off to a pretty good start. My Achilles tendons are still a bit stiff and complaining this morning, but that’s okay; I shall ice them again when I get home tonight. I do have some errands to run after work–I need to swing by the grocery store on the way home, because I don’t have anything to have for lunch this week. (Today’s is leftover pizza from last night.)

We had some marvelous thunderstorms yesterday afternoon–not much rain, but insane thunder–which also made being inside feel ever-so-cozy. I spent the morning doing some things–organizing, starting work on the laundry, cleaning the kitchen–and then Paul came home from the hotel (hence the remaining loads of laundry) and after he finished unpacking and resting for a while, we watched the world figure skating championship for men and ice dance. I ordered a pizza for dinner, which was marvelous, and after that was over, watched some of the news to get a better grasp on where we are at in this burning down of the world that is now national policy.

It’s always so lovely on the weekends to not pay attention to any of that, and just let my mind relax and be a bit free.

I also watched some documentaries about little known victims of royal inbreeding–and surprisingly enough, they weren’t all Hapsburgs. All European royals are inbred, of course, and they still have a habit of marrying cousins. The Hapsburgs are simply the most notorious for it, because they didn’t have any issues with uncle-niece marriages, which is just, frankly super-gross. I mean, imagine your children’s father is also their great-uncle. Yuck, and it’s not surprising the Spanish line died out from the inbreeding. The seventeenth century, which saw some of these uncle-niece marriages, saw the Bourbons, Hapsburgs and Stuarts also marrying double-first cousins amongst themselves, so even going out of the same breeding pool brought in “fresh” blood that was also inbred. It’s a wonder all the dynasties didn’t die out because of such a contaminated gene pool.

I also spent some time yesterday thinking about the next Scotty book and getting back into writing again. Will I actually do any writing this week? Stranger things have happened, and it’s really not surprising that after S&S I am deep in thought about his next adventure; I also realized the first Scotty came out just before the first S&S, so they are connected in my subconscious. I am almost hesitant to even talk about writing again, as I do and then the mood passes or I can’t make myself actually do it. This is why I haven’t named the book I am going to read next–because I still haven’t started reading it yet and I don’t want anything to think it’s the book’s fault rather than my own limited attention span. The infuriating part is I know that if I was reading more, my brain would probably function better? I should also start watching Jeopardy again. Anything to sharpen my mind…which could use all the help it can get, frankly.

But it’s back to reality again, with me heading into the office and adjusting back to my every day reality, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I feel rested and awake and able to face the day, which is a good feeling, and I should succeed at being productive today.

And on that note, it’s back to the mines of spice for me. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back here tomorrow for another exciting update!

There’s always a tacky-looking strip club just around the corner in the Quarter–and what a great story prompt that sign is!

Twisted

Thursday! My last day in the office for the week, and the apartment feels empty. Paul moved into the hotel yesterday, so it’s just me and our needy kitty here this morning. Yesterday I was tired when I got home from my errands, and so mostly hung out with Sparky in my chair while watching some more of the Traitors New Zealand and catching up on the news. I didn’t really do a whole lot around here other than going to bed earlier and sleeping very well. I hope to make it through today without becoming exhausted so I can do some things when I get home from work tonight. And if I don’t, oh well. I work at home tomorrow and can certainly do chores when I need a break from quality assurance (which is mindlessly tedious). I am going to head down to the Quarter for the opening party tomorrow, but will most likely come home right after. Sigh. I don’t have to go down there at all on Saturday, so I might stay home all day and rest–I also took Monday off, since I have a panel, a reading and the closing on Sunday. I also managed to get a lot of my inbox cleared out, but I do have some emails I’ve been delaying sending for whatever reason so I guess I will have to bite the bullet and do that today. I hate when I don’t do things just because I don’t want to do them, you know?

One of the highlights of the week for me was MAGA coming for Alan Ritchson–you know, the huge musclebound man who plays Reacher perfectly–after he punched someone several times and a video was sent to TMZ–which conveniently didn’t show the inciting incident; in which Ritchson was attacked, hit and verbally abused before the guy finally pushed him too far and landed some punches–while yelling at him to stay down. Since Ritchson is a Christian who hates Trump (like any real Christian would; they’d pray for him but not vote for him), MAGA went wild…until the police investigation revealed that Ritchson was wearing a body-cam that captured everything, as did other security cameras and witness statements…and the footage was released. MAGA bitch boy is still crying victim, but the police cleared Ritchson and he declined to press charges (I absolutely would have). Once again, MAGA happily steps on the rake and gets the handle right between the eyes. It really must drive them crazy that the star of Reacher, which appeals to their manliness, isn’t MAGA. Cry harder, cuck bitches.

How am I feeling this morning? The Achilles tendons are still a bit on the sore side (will need to ice tonight and tomorrow). and there’s some fatigue in my quads as always, but my head is clear and I feel rested. The coffee is hitting marvelously and my breakfast sandwich was good, too. I don’t have a massively busy day ahead of me in the clinic, so I can get caught up on my office paperwork before I head home for the evening. I am going to need to get some things from the grocery store, but it can wait until the weekend, I think. I also need to take some clothes to the dry cleaner, and get the mail at some point. I noticed that the cost of gas went down twenty cents (thanks, oil companies) after I bought gas the other day. Typical.

I think I may watch that Paul Theroux man-o-sphere documentary this weekend, if I can stomach watching these preening, narcissistic morons who make money off fooling men with masculinity issues into thinking they have to revert to Neanderthal behavior to “be a real man”–while ignoring the actual fact that acting like an immature child isn’t attractive or appealing to anyone looking for a partner. It is research for my essay series on masculinity, so I suppose I can justify forcing myself to watch it. At least it will take my appetite away, or it may be incredibly inadvertently funny. I guess we will have to wait and see.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.

If You Were My Love

Well, we survived Monday, did we not? It wasn’t a bad day, really. I was tired by the time I got home rom running errands, and allowed myself to get pulled into the vortex of the comfy easy chair and the purring kitty who needs a lap. The news was as grim as ever, and now we have ICE at our airport (and many others) supposedly to “help” TSA…but that’s not what I am seeing happening all over the country. Not flying ever again is looking better and better all of the time, amirite? I am slowly getting caught up on all the news I missed while I had gone dark, and it’s the same sort of shit-show it was before I left for Alabama last Thursday. The lies being told by the administration about Iran go on and reported breathlessly by the lame-stream media1 without any question–you know, the same media that betrayed us all over Iraq and clearly learned not a fucking thing from that dereliction of duty, but rather seemed to race each other to the bottom to become even more sycophantic, anti-democracy, right-slanted garbage than Fox and Newsmax.

Sigh. Don’t we deserve better?

I always thought so, at any rate.

I feel good this morning. I slept well, my mind is clear, and my Achilles tendons still ache a bit; I didn’t ice them last night so will have to tonight. I also got my Saints and Sinners schedule so if you want to find me there, here you go:

Sunday, March 29, 2026

11:30 AM—12:45 PM—Literary Discussion 
TURNING THE SCREWS

One of the best experiences for a reader is to get so caught up in a novel that they have a physical reaction–dilated pupils, increased heart rate, and an inability to put the book down until the final page. Whether the dramatic tension comes from an internal, psychological source or from exterior forces, authors are masters at turning the screws and torturing their audience by creating unbearable suspense. Join us for a lively discussion on tricks of the trade and ways to keep people on tenterhooks until they can think of nothing else!

Panelists: Christopher Castellani, Greg Herren, J.M. Redmann, and Audrey Wilson

Moderator: Salem West

Hotel Monteleone, Lobby Level, Royal B

2:30—3:45 PM—Reading Series

SAINTS AND SINNERS: WRITERS READ

Sponsored by the John Burton Harter Foundation

Take the rare opportunity to hear authors in their own voice. This highlighted Festival event has authors share their vivid imaginations with their new creations, or revisiting a past work that holds special meaning. Please join us in welcoming: Rob Byrnes, Laurinda D. Brown, Drew Banks, Andrew Faye, Greg Herren, Thomas Mallon, Steve Majors, and J.M. Redmann for this year’s mix of established and exciting new writers.

Hotel Monteleone, Lobby Level, Royal D

I’ll probably turn up at the opening reception and the anthology launch on Saturday, and will stick around for the closing on Sunday before heading home. I’ve taken Monday off as a recovery day (and here’s hoping neither Paul nor I get hospitalized afterwards this year). I did start watching New Zealand’s The Traitors last night–I love how different yet the same they are from country to country–and I am thinking about watching this new Paul Theroux documentary about the toxicity of the “manosphere”…which counts as research for my lengthy essay series on masculinity and my perceptions and relationship to it. I have to pick up the mail again tonight after work–my next dose of my injection is being delivered today–and then it’s back home and possibly some chores before I either read or catch up on the news. I’ve selected my next read, but I don’t want to name it yet because I am having so much trouble with reading these days and I don’t want to give the impression that the book isn’t involving; the fault does not lie with the books but with me. We shall see how it goes, won’t we? I also need to go through my to-do list to remember what all I need to get done.

The memory is the first to go.

I’m also still playing around with the ideas for a new Scotty, which is now titled French Quarter Follies, which I cannot believe I’ve not used yet (madness). I hope to get back to doing some writing and targeted creativity this week…but haven’t I been saying that already for months? Author, heal thyself.

And on that turgid note, I will now proceed to clock-in at the spice mines for the day. Enjoy your Tuesday, Constant Reader–and may it ever be a Taco Tuesday.

  1. We are in dark times indeed when I use a phrase coined by moronic hockey mom and overall hatefully ignorant piece of shit Sarah Palin, but here we are. ↩︎

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