Tag: Achilles tendons

Ooh My Love

Friday morning post-Muses work at home Friday! The streak continues for at least another year, as Paul got a lovely rainbow-hued shoe last night. It was a gorgeous night to be out on the parade route, but alas–I was very tired since I got up at six, and everything kind of ached. I came back inside after the shoe was achieved, but Paul went back out there while I fell asleep in my easy chair. Sparky let me sleep in this morning, and he was curled up into a ball, purring, between my shoulder and my head, which kept me there even longer because who doesn’t want to cuddle with a warm, purring kitty? It was fun being out there on the parade route–I may save my energy for tomorrow’s Iris/Tucks madness and skip out on tonight’s parades–but it was fun watching people and seeing all the fun costumes. I feel good this morning–a bit creaky as always, but rested, which is a vast improvement, you know? I have work to do today and I have a couple of errands to run, but I think I am going to try to read and clean the apartment once my work is done. I still have the bulk paper towels from Costco away, laundry to do, and of course, the floors. I also need to prune the books some while I am at it. The men’s Olympic figure skating final is today, too–so will probably have that on while I do chores around the house.

And maybe I’ll even do some writing today, stranger things have happened, after all. I also want to make potato leek soup this afternoon–and definitely need to organize the refrigerator/freezer. But right now I am sipping my first cup of coffee and have already scarfed down coffee cake, but am still hungry. I wasn’t hungry yesterday and didn’t really do more than snack after I got home from work yesterday. I did do some chores when I got home yesterday afternoon, but it was Thursday and I was tired, so I just kind of chilled and watched the Olympics for a while, before falling down into a news wormhole on Youtube before it was time to head out for the parade. I don’t have to work again (after today) until Ash Wednesday, so hopefully this sort of mini-vacation (I also only have to work three days next week) will help me get rested up and help me get my act together; a Greg at rest tends to stay at rest, so I need to avoid the siren song of my easy chair and Sparky.

Easier said than done, frankly.

But one never knows. I am going to have some things delivered today so I don’t have to go out into the madness and try to find parking and all of that mess–and then I won’t have to leave the house again until Monday, if then–although I should head uptown and get the mail Monday morning and do whatever I need to get done around town that morning since I won’t be able to get out of the neighborhood all day on Mardi Gras.

Okay, had a meeting and ran an errand and now I am back here, resting before I dive back into my work-at-home duties. I feel good, having had enough coffee and had a few things to eat, so my blood sugar went back up again. I don’t feel physically tired, despite running an errand, and I have some soreness still in my Achilles tendons, but I am going to ice them this afternoon while doing my work at home duties. I think that will help me with being out there for Iris tomorrow morning/early afternoon. It’s kind of grayish outside today, but not chilly; we’re supposed to get some rain over the weekend , too; I hope it holds off until after Tucks, at any rate.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, everyone, and I’ll return in the morning again–see if I don’t!

Muses bathtub and rubber duckies!

Fire Burning

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day, and the parades start up again tonight with Alla and Druids. We’re busy this morning in the clinic, but I should be able to get my work done before I leave early today so I can get home and park the car within a mile of the house. First world problems, right? At worst I’d have to park at Coliseum Square, a whopping two blocks from the house. The horror!

This is kind of like when your biggest problem is choosing between a mimosa or a Bellini for brunch. The struggle is real! Oh, no, I may have to walk longer than I do usually!

I have to say, though, being trapped at home for the entire weekend sounds both magical and delightful. Watch some Olympics, hang around the house, wander to the corner to check out the parades, icing my ankles…yes, it does sound magical, doesn’t it? I may even be able to get some reading done over the lengthy weekend. I have Monday off, because Orpheus, so I can run errands when I get up that morning, replenish whatever needs replenishing, and so on. I will definitely be able to get some writing and reading done on Fat Tuesday, since I won’t be leaving the house.

We went to Costco last night after I got off work, since we wouldn’t be able to go again until after Mardi Gras. Costco, as always, was a bit exhausting, I must confess. There weren’t many people there, so we were able to get in and out relatively quickly and unscathed. I ran into Wacky Russian there–he works there now–and it was lovely to see him. But once the car was unloaded and everything (mostly) put away, I was worn out so I just collapsed into my easy chair and watched some of yesterday’s Olympic figure skating before retiring to bed. I slept well, my ankles don’t feel too bad this morning, and I get to leave work early because of living inside the box. I slept really well last night, too–must have been the Costco exhaustion. My body feels rested this morning, but the Achilles twins are protesting this morning a bit, and my legs feel a bit tired, but my mind is alert and I don’t think this is going to be one of those “so tired I’m spacy” days. Checking my time sheet, I get to leave at 1:30 this afternoon, so maybe I should make a minor grocery run on the way home. I get to leave at 12:30 tomorrow, and maybe that would be the better day? I’m not sure. I don’t have time this morning to see if we need anything, so maybe it should wait till tomorrow? Decisions, decisions, decisions. I could also wait until Friday morning and run them early. Sigh. I will even get home in time to watch the ice dancing final today. Woo-hoo! It’s also going to be in the upper seventies with a slight chance of rain today–we may get some thunderstorms over the weekend, which could be a major parade bummer…I wonder if they’ll roll anyway? Hard to say, really.

Probably the best part of yesterday was writing over a thousand words written on the short story yesterday, which was very pleasing. It started flowing, but I also was spending too much time agonizing over what to write next and structure and so forth–I need to remember that I just need to regurgitate everything as I write the first draft and then concern myself with fixing and strengthening the story in the next draft. It did feel quite marvelous to be writing fiction again, even if it’s something for a charity anthology call that doesn’t pay–there’s a reason I still have a full-time job, after all.

We also watched the second episode of Glitter and Gold, and it served to only deepen my loathing for the French team. I love Chock and Bates, and would be so delighted to see them win the gold medal to became one of, if not the greatest, American ice dance teams ever. I guess I’ll see when I get home.

ANd on that note, I am going to heat up my breakfast sandwich and head into the spice mines. See you again tomorrow morning, for the Muses day blog.

I don’t think Scott Glenn ever got enough credit for his looks. I could be wrong.

Whole Lotta Trouble

Tuesday in the Lost Apartment, and a lovely day was had by all yesterday. Today is MY PUBLICATION DATE FOR HURRICANE SEASON HUSTLE!!! Woo-hoo! Honestly, sometimes I thought that book would be the death of me, my writing career, or both. (It’s a lengthy story I’ve bored you with many times already, Constant Reader, and won’t again.) But now it’s out and I get to be happy for a little while before the reviews start coming in.

And no, I don’t read the reviews. Anywhere. I don’t mind bad reviews as long as they are thoughtfully critical; give me something I can use to improve my writing, thank you. But I have no patience for people who just want to score points off authors–or use their reviews to avenge themselves for some perceived slight, and that has happened to me more than once. It’s one of those things I never forget, you know? I remember my editor sending me a bad review copy with a post-it note attached with the words this one reeks with the stench of failed author–something I’ve kept in mind ever since. One of the reasons I don’t review books negatively or to score points off someone I dislike is because who has the fucking time? There are better uses of my time, and I’d rather not write something negative as an author, especially about another author, no matter how awful they are (I do always make an exception for Stephenie Meyer, though. She deserves far worse). If I genuinely hate a book that much I usually don’t finish it, and why talk about it? I’d rather uplift other authors and talk about books I loved, you know? Doesn’t that make more sense? I love books, I love to read, and I appreciate the work any author puts into writing a book.

At the very least, it’s a big commitment of time and work–and it isn’t easy for anyone.

I felt pretty good yesterday. My Achilles tendons felt sore by the end of the shift again, so I iced them when I got home (as well as other places that were sore and achy) and woke up this morning feeling pretty good physically, for a change. I hope it lasts! Yesterday was lovely, temperature wise, and I ran errands on my way home–mail, prescription, made groceries–and tonight we are going to Costco after I get off work, which I assume means I will be terribly tired when I get home and put everything away. Oh, well. I don’t work full days the rest of the week, as tomorrow night the parades start up again and I have to leave work early. Friday I work at home, Monday I took off, and Tuesday of course is a holiday. Tomorrow is also a “pay the bills Wednesday,” too. All kinds of things going on around here, right? I even managed to work on my short story yesterday and got another hundred words down. The writing is still very slow going, but something is better than nothing, or so I’ve always believed. Besides, it’s Carnival and it’s hard to do anything during the parade season, even on the days when there are no parades because scheduling life around the parades is exhausting in and of itself. I’m hoping after tonight there won’t be any need to make groceries unless I run out of something–hopefully nothing I can’t get by walking to the corner Walgreens, since the car won’t move from Thursday afternoon till Monday morning, if not later. I don’t know if I will go out for parades on Wednesday night, but I definitely will go out for Muses on Thursday night. I love me some Muses. I may be out on Friday night, too, for d’Etat and everything else, but for sure I will be out for Iris this Saturday and Orpheus on Monday night. Bacchus is always a zoo, and so I’ll most likely skip that one.

Parade planning!

I think we’re finally going to get rid of all the beads in the house and utilize Paul’s toy chest for blankets and pillows or something. I love catching throws, but it’s all just stuff to add to the already heavily cluttered apartment. I am very proud of the fact that we’ve been clearing stuff out in the last six months, but we’ve barely scratched the surface–but it’s already looking neater and tidier. Huzzah! Maybe this will turn out to be the year that I clean out the attic! Woo-hoo! Stranger things have happened, after all.

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

Uncaught beads end up as parade debris!

Ghosts

Sunday morning. It’s yet another incredibly bright and sunny morning, and I slept late yet again this morning. Sparky let me sleep till past eight again this morning, and now I am up–a little bleary-eyed, but awake. I didn’t get a lot (anything) done yesterday, and who knows? I may not be able to today, either. There’s nothing wrong with being tired and taking a day of, as we all know, and my lack of anxiety in general is making it less necessary for me to make excuses for myself, or rationalize doing nothing. I mean, I cooked and everything, doesn’t that count? I broiled some chicken tenders to keep on hand and so I can make jambalaya at some point this week, and I also have the makings for some potato leek soup. I spent some time icing my Achilles tendons, which made them less achy and sore–they are a bit this morning, too, so will be icing them again this morning. My legs are bone-tired this morning too–they were yesterday, but this morning they don’t ache like they did yesterday. I really need to get going on building up my stamina again. As for today, I am not making plans. I have my lengthy to-do list, after all, and I do need to pick up some around here, too. If I read, I read; if I write, I write…but am not terribly worried about anything.

Better living through chemistry is so the way to go, Constant Reader.

I hear Sparky creeping around somewhere–which means he might be in attack/play mode; so I might be attacked at any moment. He really is the most adorable kitty, and it’s cute (if bloody and painful) when he goes into apex predator attack beast mode.

I was exhausted almost the entire day yesterday. I slept late, as I mentioned yesterday morning, but was physically worn down; the combination of walking so much when I am not used to it, plus the end of the week. After I posted yesterday morning, I took my coffee and a piece of king cake into the living room with me, determined to do some reading after I caught up on the latest insanities in the news. It pleased me to no end to see the Olympic crowd at the opening ceremonies cheering for our athletes as they walked into the stadium only to have the cheers turned to boos as Pseudonym and Wife appeared on the Jumbotron. Best get used to it, Vances–this is the rest of your miserable grifting fucking lives. Paul came down early to watch the figure skating with me, and we went from the Olympics to finishing His and Hers (a lot of fun, with a great surprise twist) and then this week’s The Beauty. (I was highly amused to see that Vincent D’onofrio was the “before” for Ashton Kutcher’s character; once the transformation was complete, Paul said, “why didn’t it give him an ass?”) I was very tired, and fell asleep in my chair for a couple of hours in the late afternoon/early evening, and then we watched Twinless, with Dylan O’Brien, which was really good but also very sad.

I am not as exhausted and tired as I was yesterday physically, but I might head out to the corner to watch King Arthur–which has lots of gay riders so I get a lot of stuff thrown at me–later this afternoon, depending on how I feel. I also have to walk over to Walgreens this morning to buy some bread and ice cream and chips or something to snack on; I am going to not worry about my weight until after Mardi Gras. I don’t know how cold it is outside, either–it’s very sunny, though–but I think I am going to ice my legs for awhile before I do anything.

And on that tedious note, I am heading into the living room to read while I ice my ankles. May your Sunday be a fun day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning before the sun rise.

Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You?

Tonight, Oshun and Cleopatra roll down St. Charles Avenue to kick off the Uptown parade season, and I will be trapped in my neighborhood tonight through Sunday night. Next week is the true insanity, beginning on Wednesday and going for almost a week. Yay for Carnival! I have a shit ton of things to do today, personally and professionally, so it’s going to be an interesting all-over-the-place kind of day. I’m meeting a friend for dinner at five fifteen, and will have to walk about six blocks to get there, but that’s not a big deal so long as my Achilles tendons don’t get out of control. I just need to keep my wits about me today, not get distracted, and keep nose affixed firmly to grindstone or else the day will go completely off the rails–which nobody wants or needs. I also have a meeting this morning and lots of work-at-home duties to get done today. AUGH. A busy busy day for me, and not off to a good start, as I didn’t get up early but lolled in bed late.

It didn’t rain on Wednesday night, so I didn’t feel as deeply rested yesterday morning as I had Wednesday morning. Maybe I should get one of those rain sound machines to sleep with? I don’t know if the noise will be as effective with the chilly wet air, though. I used to have easy listening CD’s a hundred years ago–morning rain, forest, waterfall, etc.–but don’t think I ever used them. It also didn’t rain last night, either–and the sun is very bright this morning. It’s about forty-eight degrees outside, which isn’t terrible. I am not certain if I’ll go out to the corner tonight or not–will depend, actually, on how tired I am when I get home from dinner. But for now, I just had some toast and finished my first cup of coffee and am feeling pretty good–so we’ll see how it all goes, won’t we?

Maybe the saddest thing that happened this week was the death knell of a once-great urban newspaper, the Washington Post. Nowhere in anything I read about this latest butchering of the paper did anyone note that there was a lot of backlash to the Post after Jeff Bezos cancelled the paper’s endorsement of Kamala Harris because his fellow pedophile and favored candidate wouldn’t like it. I recently subscribed to the Post–despite my disapproval of them, it was a good deal and they had book coverage, sports coverage, and recipes–and got a great deal at ninety-nine cents per month for digital access, so I figured a dollar wasn’t much to give them, and would cancel when that rate lapsed and went back to normal. It sure didn’t take long for them to make my dollar a waste of money, did they? I also didn’t see anyone else drawing a line from Watergate to right-wing hatred of the Post and this final vengeance for taking down Nixon. (Likewise, they’ve also managed to neuter the New York Times and CBS; the Times reported on the Pentagon Papers, and CBS opposed Vietnam. Conservatives are nothing if not vengeful and vindictive, and can carry a grudge for a very long time.) I had misgivings when Bezos bought the Post, but it took him ten years to take an Elon Musk-like chainsaw to the Post. He’s a monster. I wonder how many kids he raped on Epstein Island? You know he was there.

I think the funniest thing to be about all of this is that the Chatelaine of Castle TERF is in the files. That’s right, that bigoted old bitch who “wants to protect girls and women” is in the Epstein files and was buddy-buddy with him. I knew her fascination with the genitals of children had a much darker origin. Maybe she hates trans kids because she wants to know what genitals they have without checking before molesting them? Yeah, she wraps her bigotry in piety but when you’re friends with the biggest pedophile and sex-trafficker on the planet? Miss me with your concerns about women and children, bitch. The irony that she happily climbed in bed with the Christofascists who’d tried to get her “satanic” books banned and removed from libraries is equally delicious. She jumped into bed with the actual pedophiles and hung around with Epstein. So much for any moral authority she tries to claim. She hates queer people and loves pedophiles. Quite frankly, she deserves worse.

It’s easy to see why religions like Christianity have taken hold–because its basic message is one of elitism and exclusion: we’re going to heaven. Plus, there is nothing fair in this world and there is rarely any justice, so how do the rich and powerful keep the poor and the working class from revolting and guillotining them all? Give them a religion that promises every gets what they deserve in the next world with no proof! It’s easy to see why faith became so popular in the old days–don’t worry about no justice on earth–they’ll get it after they die is some impressive gaslighting, maybe the greatest example of it in history. There was a reason the French Revolution didn’t target ust the upper class–they also targeted the Catholic Church and abolished religion (which often gets left out of the lesson). The promise of the afterlife enables the rich and the powerful to do whatever they please, no matter how heinous, because well, God will send them to hell.

The Olympics have already started, and some of the team figure skating competition has begun, with a good showing by the US team so far, which is very cool. I don’t know how much of the Olympics I’ll be able to actually watch–there are two parades tonight, six tomorrow, and three or four on Sunday. I have to run errands this afternoon so I can get them out of the way because I won’t be able to do much driving after four tonight until Sunday night/Monday morning.

I actually worked on my dystopian story yesterday and it started flowing easily–probably because it isn’t hard to imagine an American dystopia in the near future. But it also felt good to be writing again, and that’s always a good thing. Hopefully I’ll be able to get it finished this weekend.

And speaking of the Epstein files, someone gathered the Epstein emails as an easily searchable Gmail inbox. Just click and you can see if your favorite oligarch or celebrity is there!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

Seriously, no one does parade floats quite like New Orleans krewes.

No Spoken Word

Thursday, and Parades’ Eve! The fencing and bleachers are up all along St. Charles Avenue, and last night I got to drive the slalom course they turn the Avenue into ever since the terrorist attack onNew Year’s last year. Tomorrow there are two parades, there are six or seven on Saturday, and I think three on Sunday. This is the warm-up weekend before the big final weekend, so we’ll see how it goes. I have to run a bunch of errands tomorrow, too–once my work-from-home duties are completed. I don’t know how productive I am going to be, either. I don’t know that I have the stamina to be out there as much as I could be, either. We shall see. It’s also in the thirties again this morning–it got up in the seventies yesterday, which was weird–and I could feel the floor getting colder last evening through my house shoes. I think the parade weather is going to be in the fifties/sixties, but sunny. We shall see, and we shall also see if my Achilles tendons can handle it just yet–they still are sore and achy. Note to self: look up what to do with sore Achilles tendons.

I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home last night. I was able to fold laundry, do a load of dishes and put them away, and reload the dishwasher to run tonight when I go to bed. The kitchen is in much better condition than it usually is on Thursday morning, so I am not going to have to spend time over the weekend catching up on all those things. We watched another His and Hers (we’ll probably finish it tonight, as there are only two episodes left. There’s also another episode of The Beauty, which I am hate-watching. Paul doesn’t care about that show anymore, so I’ll probably watch it while I am relaxing into my easy chair and bonding with my Sparky. We still haven’t watched the final season of Stranger Things, or the new season of Bridgerton, either. We’re also in the midst of the final countdown to the festivals, the Olympics are starting, parade season, and AUGH. I need to stop procrastinating, don’t I? MY to-do list keeps growing, but very little ever seems to come off of it–which would have led to a complete breakdown before anxiety medication.

Better living through chemistry is definitely a thing I embrace whole-heartedly.

Neil Gaiman tried to come back to social media in light of the Epstein horrors, and I am not really sure what he was thinking. I believe he was driven off social media yet again, but this led to some serious conversations about other author/predators, which led to me discovering precisely why Marion Zimmer Bradley had been canceled, and I might add, ew. I knew it was something bad but I never paid much attention; I’d never read anything of hers other than The Catch Trap, her gay circus romance between aerialists, which…I had some issues with. I have my original copy of it around here somewhere, because I’d always meant to go back and read it again. Overall, I’d enjoyed it, but there was something terribly off about it to me, that kind of made me uneasy as I read it. I also knew that her Arthurian novels were very popular with women, because she told the story through the point of view of the women; but I loved Mary Stewart’s Arthurian novels so much I didn’t think I would enjoy the Bradley novels–and would always be comparing them unfavorably, and there are lots of other things to read, you know. Now, I’m glad I never did, and a critical reread of The Catch Trap knowing what Bradley and her evil husband were doing to their own children will color it. It also makes some of the stuff that didn’t sit right with me in the book make a lot more sense to me now. Anyway, thank you, Karin Kallmaker, for letting me know.

Okay, I looked up the Achilles tendon stuff and the recommendations are rest, ice, and stretching, which means getting my ice machine down from the attic tonight, and we shall see how that will go.

And on that note, y’all, I think I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your day, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

So pretty!

Imperial Hotel

Sunday morning! It’s seventy degrees outside this morning, with the cold front not quite here yet; it’s going to start raining soon (per the forecast) which is part of the front’s arrival, along with shockingly low temperatures later on today. It looks very gray outside, the ground is wet, and I am incredibly happy I don’t have to leave the apartment today other than to take the recycling out, which I should do right now before the rain gets here. Hang on, I’ll be right back.

Okay, I’m back. My legs are strangely tired and a bit sore this morning–the Achilles tendons in particular again–so I think when I finish this I might do some stretching, which I should start doing regularly again. I never really had to when I was younger–being naturally freakishly flexible meant I didn’t need to, but it was bad to never develop a regular stretching routine. I wonder, if now that my anxiety is under control, maybe the gym won’t be such an anxious experience for me. I’d conquered gym fear back in 1995, but after so long away from it I always had that anxiety whenever I would go back and try to get done as quickly as possible. I am going to return after Carnival and hopefully stick to it; I definitely need more stamina, and I’d like to shave off some extra weight (but without the assistance of the damned ulcerative colitis, of course). I know I’ll feel better the stronger and healthier I get, too.

Yesterday was definitely a day of odd energy. I got up a little later than I should have, and wasn’t as motivated as I had hoped. I would be. I think it was partly the oncoming storm on the horizon that was unsettling? I did run some errands (seven boxes of books to the library sale) and had some things delivered. I also braved the grocery store the day before a horrible winter storm descends upon us here in southeastern Louisiana. It was pretty hectic and crowded, and the check out lines were lengthy. But they were checking people out with a high degree of efficiency (for once), so it didn’t take nearly as long as I had feared it might. It was a very gray day, too–it was just gray and windy and chilly. I got home and unloaded the car and put everything away and relaxed for a bit. Sparky curled up in my lap and I spent some time catching up on the latest horrors from the current administration of fascists and liars and murderers. I also spent some time rereading one of my favorite books of history–Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror. We also watched the first three episodes of Ryan Murphy’s latest pretty production of a disjointed narrative, The Beauty.

In all honesty, I am not sure what to think. of The Beauty. It could easily have just been another season of American Horror Story rather than a stand-alone series. I also could do without child sexual abuse supporter and a friend of Diddy who regularly attended the “freak-offs” on my television screen. I’ll watch, but we’re not giving Ashton Kutcher a redemption arc, thank you very much. I’ve also not seen his ex-wife’s The Substance, but there seem to be an awful lot of similarities between the two. There’s a lot of things that could be said about our American obsession with youth and beauty, but I seriously doubt we’re going to get it from a Ryan Murphy show. It’s also my thought that the show will go off the rails and stop making sense, the way so many of the Ryan Murphy seasons do, before long. One day I may be able to break my hate-watching need for Ryan Murphy’s deeply flawed productions, but we aren’t there yet. After we caught up on it, we switched to the Australian Open and watched that until it was time for bed. I also made dinner last night, so the kitchen is a bit messy this morning. I do think, though, that once I finish and post this I may go read for a bit before getting cleaned up and getting the house under control yet again.

And yes, we’ve had another murder of an American citizen–a male nurse, at that–in Minneapolis by the tax-payer funded Noem thugs. She, and the rest of them, all lied about it, of course; which she should be civilly liable for; I do think the victims’ families should be able to file wrongful death suits against Noem, Homeland Security, and this administration. So glad y’all couldn’t bring yourself to vote for the highly qualified Black woman because you didn’t believe she worked at McDonalds and had a stranger laugh you didn’t like. Fuck you all, now and forever. There can be no forgiveness without atonement and genuine remorse. I’ll probably carry that grudge to the grave. Have fun in church today, Pharisees.

It’s funny, because one thing I’ve been researching for a future book is the 1970s and its pop culture, which is fun and interesting–although the clothes and hairstyles can be safely left to the past and memory. But one of the biggest things I can remember in the 1970s was the Bicentennial; many now aren’t old enough to remember that. I’ll probably write an essay for the newsletter about the Bicentennial at some point. Remembering what a huge fuss was made for the Bicentennial makes it kind of surprising that no one seems to give a shit that the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence is this July 4th. Kind of ironic that it was written as a result of years of authoritarian British colonial rule and justice…while on a major anniversary of the signing we have elected our own authoritarians and tyrant to abuse our freedoms and liberties. The way they can bald-faced lie despite the overwhelming video evidence that proves they lie about everything and anything.

The lengths they will go to in order to distract from the Epstein files is pretty telling, isn’t it? It’s worse for them for the epstein files to come out than shooting American citizens dead in the streets.

That’s a pretty big fucking tell, isn’t it?

Well, the rain has arrived and it’s very dark now, so I am going to repair to my easy chair and my coffee and read some more Ken Holt and Eli Cranor. Stay safe and warm wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Thanks for stopping by!

Foreplay/Long Time

Work at home Friday has rolled around again, and this time it precedes yet another three day weekend. I was tired yesterday, not being used to getting up at six for four days in a row again. I made some groceries on the way home from work, did some chores when I got home, and then slid into my easy chair with Sparky for some cuddles and catching up on the news. I also had no idea how tired I actually was until I got home; Sparky curled up in my lap, purring, and by seven thirty I was sound asleep in my easy chair! I woke up groggy after eight and said fuck it and went to bed. I slept like the dead, and didn’t get up until about eight this morning. I still am achy in places–the hips and Achilles tendons, of all things–and not feeling particularly energetic this morning, either, and Sparky is being no help this morning at all. I have a meeting this morning, and I have lots of laundry to do, in addition to some work-at-home duties I need to get caught up on. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday–not as busy as we were scheduled to be, and I had to train someone, too–but we were busy enough. I did get a lot of stuff at the office caught up, which might very well be why I was so tired and sleepy last night (fatigue is different, in that it doesn’t involve feeling sleepy; I used to get so tired and exhausted I couldn’t do anything but was wide awake, which was torturous). Today I also have errands to run, but the temperature is going to be in the low seventies again (with a cold front striking over the weekend–slight chance of snow again Sunday morning), which will make it ever so much better to do.

And it’s a three day weekend, which is even more marvelous.

I do have a lot I need to get working on this glorious weekend. I want to do some more work on the apartment done, clean out some books to take to the library sale this weekend, and of course, I need to read and write this weekend. I also would like to do some seriously deep cleaning with the files and so forth–getting rid of things I no longer need. I don’t need to hoard ideas any more. I am never going to write every story, novel or essay idea I have, and I have more and more ideas all the time. I went ahead and ordered some groceries for delivery–it is absolutely eerie how expensive things are now, and how easily you get to over $100 in no time–while knowing you used to get three times that amount of things for that amount. $100 used to fill the hatch of my car. Now I can get it into the house with one trip with the wagon. So glad everyone voted for lower prices. Funny how they stopped complaining about prices once 1/20 rolled around while everything gets more expensive by the week. (It was always about the competent Black woman, let’s make no mistake there.)

I also love all the MAGAts posting their support of the occupation of Minneapolis and the Gestapo, and have to wonder, how would they feel if this was happening in their home town? If one of their neighboring moms got shot in the face three times by a murderous thug who shouldn’t be allowed to own a gun, let alone use one. Nothing ever matters to them unless it affects them personally, and their inability to even consider a different point of view (because they are incapable of logical thinking) is yet another reason why this country is now an autocracy with some remnants of the old system hanging on for dear life while bending the knee to the dictator. Democratic leadership is sadly too milquetoast to effectively clean house with the corporatists and centrists who are basically MAGA-lite and only beholden to their donors and not their constituents. When they gave party leadership back to Schumer and Jeffries after the last election I knew we were doomed, because neither is competent or intelligent enough to stand up for their base and apparently think it is still 1975. If Schumer and Jeffries led the party in the 1970s, Nixon would have finished his second term. I am sick to death of wimps who are afraid Fox News is going to look at them cross-eyed. The nation is crying out for them to do something other than being masters of the strongly worded letter.

We don’t need Karens asking for the manager. Where is our JFK, FDR, or even Ted Kennedy? Instead we’ve got Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, two incompetent losers who will be judged very harshly by the base. I hope to God someone primaries Schumer so we can be finally rid of that loser who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag that is already torn. Minneapolis and everything that happens there is also on the Democratic Party leadership. I lived in Minneapolis (for eight months)in 1996 before I moved to New Orleans, and it’s very upsetting to see what’s happening there. I have friends there I worry about on the daily.

And yet we still have elected Democrats backing ICE.

Quislings, every last one of them. Every one of them who voted to confirm Kristi Noem should be asked every day how they intend to make up for that to their base, because that is disqualifying for office. So, by all means, ask me for more money. You won’t get it, but I appreciate the laugh every time I get a fundraising email to back them in their “fight” and treating us all like marks at a pro wrestling match. Like we can’t see how little they are doing and how ineffectual what little they do is?

Sigh.

And I am going to head into the spice mines now after this grim post. Have a lovely weekend, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow.