Tag: Barry Keoghan

I Wouldn’t Beg For Water

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

Or not.

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

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

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

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

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

Take a Bow

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I slept well–I wanted to stay in bed for another few hours, but got up anyway and am now sitting in my kitchen remembering that there was a time change and it’s actually later than I thought. Sigh. So I didn’t get up early after all, did I? I hate Daylight Savings Time and wish we could do away with it once and for all; didn’t Congress take this up last year or something, and didn’t it look like this pointless time change was going to be a thing of the past, or was that merely a fever dream brought on by the pandemic or something?

Yesterday wound up being a wasted day for me. I had some things to do yesterday morning that had to be done–some emails I’d been putting off because I knew they would be triggering, and I was right. I’m still not certain the most important one was worded correctly or the right thing to say at all, but when I finally finished it–it took me several hours to compose it and myself–I was emotionally drained and in a grief spiral, so I decided to spend some time with Scooter sleeping in my lap to make me feel better. I wound up actually drained and exhausted and fatigued, so I simply stayed there. Paul didn’t go into the office yesterday (he is going today) and we finally spent some time together last night, getting caught up on Servant (which is really phenomenal; Lauren Ambrose doesn’t get near the credit as an actress that she should; there’s a scene in the second to last episode–the series finale is this Friday–that can be Ms. Ambrose’s Emmy reel; the scene where her husband and brother finally come clean with the secret they’ve been keeping from her since the first episode is a master class in acting, and it’s all done with her facial expressions, and it’s a tour-de-force), and then the first episode of Outer Banks. We were both getting sleepy, so we put on a true crime documentary series (Two Shallow Graves, which is quite interesting; we figured if we fell asleep it would be okay because we could rewatch it if necessary without necessarily spoiling anything) and finally repaired to bed (later) than I thought it was (stupid time change), which is already throwing me off this morning.

I am still digesting Cheryl A. Head’s marvelous Time’s Undoing, which I finished yesterday morning and greatly enjoyed. I was hoping to spend some time with my next read this morning….but I’ve already lost an hour. Maybe instead of reading this morning, I’ll finish this and get cleaned up and write for a few hours before curling up with a good book later on this afternoon. Paul is going to see his trainer this morning and then to the office, so he’ll be out of my hair for most of the day so I should be able to get a lot of editing and so forth done, as well as some planning for future writing. There’s also always cleaning and filing to get done; yesterday after the depression set in was pretty much a wasted day. But I’m not going to beat myself up over the lost day; it is what it is and nothing I can do now can ever change that, so I am going to be kind to myself and recognize that, while still disappointing, there’s a significant difference between deciding to be lazy and blow off the entire day as opposed to being so overwhelmed that you can’t do anything. (This being kind to myself thing I am trying this year is such an outlook change that it’s not reflexive and I always have to process myself into it; maybe at some point it will become reflexive and…yeah, I don’t see it becoming reflexive any time soon)

Oh, yes, and the Oscars are on tonight. My interest in awards shows has declined as I’ve gotten older; sometimes I wonder if my gradual growing antipathy for awards shows I used to look forward to when I was younger has anything to do with my own eligibility for awards since getting published? Don’t get me wrong; I don’t object to awards by any means, but they also aren’t why I do what I do. It’s always nice to be recognized, especially by your peers and especially when you’ve always felt like an outsider rather than a peer. But while winning an Oscar (or even being nominated) can change a film industry member’s career for the better, do book awards make a difference to someone’s career if they aren’t the National Book Award or the Pulitzer Prize? I do think it’s important to recognize excellence in the field, but awards are just as subjective as anything else, and when an award is decided by a panel of judges..well, a different panel of judges might not come up with the exact same shortlist and winner, either. It isn’t like you can campaign to win an Edgar–but there are awards for mystery novels that you can campaign for, and the campaigning always makes me uncomfortable. In the beginning, I hated asking people for votes and wouldn’t do it. Then I started adding my eligible stuff to Gabriel Valjan’s awards-eligibility lists, which he compiles every year for every award as their nominations period open up.

Last year was the first time I actually made a little announcement on social media that hey, Bury Me in Shadows is eligible for the Anthony for Best PBO because there wasn’t a children’s/young adult category on the ballot. A second ballot was sent out at the almost last-minute because they’d inadvertently left that category off the ballot, so…figuring I didn’t have a prayer at a Best PBO nomination, I asked people to write me in on their ballot for y/a. IMAGINE my shock to wind up nominated in both categories (I lost both, PBO to Jess Lourey and Y/A to Alan Orloff; it’s lovely to lose to friends because you can be happy for them rather than disappointed at losing–losing to someone you don’t like or respect is an entirely different situation); so this year I figured I had nothing to lose by asking for votes–and wound up nominated for a Lefty for A Streetcar Named Murder and an Agatha for #shedeservedit, so go figure, you know?

Another reason I stopped caring or watching the Oscars is because they’ve become so predictable in every category in every year that there are no fun surprises, or if there are any, they are so few and far-between that watching become tedious (although one delightful surprise was Olivia Colman’s win for The Favourite a few years ago); but there doesn’t seem to be a clear cut winner in every category this year, even though I will go out on a limb and predict Oscars for Brendan Fraser (everyone loves a comeback story), Michelle Yeoh, Ke Huy Quan (another comeback story), and Jamie Lee Curtis. The two actresses will not only be rewarded for their work in the film but also for lengthy, glorious careers that have never been recognized before; while the two men are feel-good comeback stories. I’ve not seen Everything Everywhere All At Once, but I do think it’s trending to win everything. (If I had to chose, Barry Keoghan probably deserves an award for The Banshees of Inisherin; to me his was the strongest performance in a film I really disliked.)

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you later.