Tag: Carlos Alcaraz

Don’t Stop

Midweek already? Time has no meaning to me anymore, really. It’s going to be October long before I’m ready for it. How crazy is that? I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around it being football season already. There are some good games this weekend (LSU is playing Louisiana Tech), like Alabama-Georgia and Oklahoma-Michigan and Ohio State-Texas, and isn’t it early in the season for marquee match-ups like that? I guess the SEC is going to decide this week whether to expel LSU or not; Greg Sankey has never liked having his power questioned. But one thing is for sure: the NCAA started all of this NIL/paying players thing without covering every base, and the most positive outcomes from this will be answering unresolved questions about eligibility. It’s really hard to argue against eligibility for people who signed professional contracts but never played or got paid when they can get paid in college. I thought the mentality behind this whole pay-the-players thing was to encourage playing college for four years…you can’t really tell someone “well, you signed a contract to get paid, which means you can no longer get paid at the collegiate level,” can you? Make it make sense. There needs to be a more clearly defined rule, is all–and if they didn’t think coaches would push their limits, they thought wrong. As a very biased LSU an, I try not to voice opinions about these things when they involve LSU because my instinct is always to defend my team–it feels like someone telling you your dog is ugly–but in removing emotion (or trying to) and only using logic tells me that it’s actually a problem that needs a definitive answer–which everyone seems to be hedging on by turning it into an “LSU problem” when the reality is that decisions should be in the best interests of, I don’t know, the actual players? Actual courts of law inevitably rule against the NCAA, which is why the system is so broken. If they kick LSU out, so be it–but don’t think our governor and attorney general will let that sit, and honestly? Every time Janky Jeff and the Lizard insert their sticky hands into anything, they make everything worse–and they aren’t very smart to begin with; they’re just stupid, lazy, and corrupt with no issues abusing their own petty power. I mean, they sell out their constituents every chance they get, and it really bothers me that they’ll never face any consequences for their abuses of power.

The week already seems off to me, because it’s again a short one. I have to see my doctor on Friday, and I have a meeting that morning. Maybe we’re going to Costco? I don’t know. But the good news is I started writing a short story yesterday for one of these anthology calls I’m interested in; whether I am able to finish it and turn it in on time for consideration is another story (which is why I have so many partial stories in the files; I’ll start writing one for an anthology but not finish it, and then years later I’ll find it, can’t remember why I started it, but will finish it and get it published–this is what happened with “The Sound of Snow Falling”, which is coming out in Unloaded 3 this fall. It’s very creepy, and there’s no corpse. (Well, creepy and disturbing if I make it work the way I want it to; we’ll just have to see, won’t we?

I see that Ben Shelton managed to beat Carlos Alcaraz last night after I went to bed. I’ve not really gotten into the US Open that much this year, but…I love watching good tennis, but I don’t feel connected to any players, other than Carlos, but seeing the rise of so many young Americans on both the men’s and women’s sides is kind of exciting. It’s been a while since we’ve had any Americans on the rise. (Although I do always enjoy watching Novax lose.)

I watched a short video the other day about the murder of Jesse Valencia in Columbia, Missouri (he was a student at the university), and there were so many twists and turns before the murderer was identified–and as always with a gay murder, repression and the closet played a major role in the case. There’s a novel there, but I have to wrap my mind around it to get the story and point of view I would want to use. I have often thought about how dangerous it is to be gay, and how many of us go home from clubs and bars and parties with someone we just met and know nothing about; it’s a wonder more of us aren’t murdered, to be honest. A serial killer, for example, could kill plenty of gay male hook-ups before anyone even noticed–and if he’s hot, they’d never think twice about leaving with him–which, of course, is something I’m exploring in a in-progress novel that may be finished some day.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. It’s even Pay the Bills Day, and I completely forgot until just now. Get your head together, Gregalicious! See you tomorrow!

As good looking and sexy as he is, I always find these “here’s my ass!” poses kind of funny, and always wonder if they’re straight and if they know what the photographer is actually going for….

Why’s It So Hard

Here it is, Tuesday morning, and the weather is a bit cooler this morning. It rained off and on for most of the day yesterday, thanks to that tropical system to be named Edouard off the coast. It’s supposed to make landfall near the Texas-Louisiana border, with a very strong possibility that it will come ashore in or around Vermilion Parish–you know, where the big SpaceX spaceport is going to be. How much will the taxpayers be on the bag for every time a storm hits Vermilion Parish? Because you know SpaceX isn’t going to absorb any of the costs.

Anyway, we have the oddest weather here. At one point I walked past a window and rain was just pouring down…in bright sunlight. New Orleans always works to keep you slightly off-balance, which is part of the magic here. Nothing is on the level in New Orleans, and you often see things here you don’t see anywhere else. Crystal clear puddles of rainwater in the gutter, for example, or a downpour of rain while the sun shines. We’re supposed to get more rain today and through the rest of the week, and it has cooled things down a little bit–even if the humidity is more miserable as everything dries and the water evaporates. I didn’t get a lot done last night, actually. I ran some errands after work–mail and groceries–and was delighted to have my new moccasins arrive! They are very comfortable and are so cute! I got caught up on the news some, caught this week’s Real Housewives Ultimate Girls’ Trip (Vicki is completely insufferable), and then we finished off Furious, which was spectacular and absolutely nailed the landing. Emmy Rossum should at least get an Emmy nod for it, but they ignored her great work on Shameless for years.

I also woke up again at four, and slept fitfully for the next two hours before the alarm went off. That’s two days in a row, and not sure what that is all about, but I am not tired during the day. That’s the most important thing, frankly. My new shoes have ended the aches in my joints, which is awesome, and I keep thinking it’s later in the week than it actually is. Probably wishful thinking.

I haven’t watched much of the US Open thus far, but I love that Carlos Alcaraz is going viral for his longer hair and nip-slips in his tank top. He really is handsome, such a great player, and seems genuinely nice. I was also delighted to see that “Novax” Djokovic lost in the first round of a major for the first time since 2006. Maybe if you hadn’t hung our with RFK Jr. and Dr. Oz ahead of time, you wouldn’t have gotten sick? I used to like him, because he was a great player that was fun to watch and he was kind of funny. That stopped as soon as he became a COVID denier. Yes, someone who has lived in a tennis bubble and shielded from the rest of the world and reality is who I want to take my health advice from. I truly believe his on-line Google searches are the equivalent of studying epidemiology and infectious diseases for eight years. Imagine winning the most Grand Slam titles of all time for men, but your legacy is being a sideshow freak hawking snake oil.

I think the only good thing about Dolly Parton’s death (RIP, Queen) was watching the “contrarians” try to drag her on social media, only to be driven off social media for such a stupid and shitty take. Did they forget that so-called “Christian” bitch who called Dolly Parton a “false prophet” and not a real Christian in that article she wrote a while back? I participated in that internet pile-on, and gladly. If you don’t see the purest interpretation of the ministry of Jesus when you looked at her, well, there’s something inherently wrong with your readings of scripture.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a terrific Tuesday, and may it be filled with tacos!

Talk to Me

Monday morning and it’s still cold. Go figure. Parades start this very Friday, and if it’s cold, well, I won’t be bold. I am not going out there to get sick from being out in the cold, and besides, I’m old. Maybe it’s all that history I read where someone old caught a chill that developed into pneumonia and death within days. As much as I joke about it, I am not in any rush to leap into my grave (or the crematorium, as it were). I just don’t like being sick–and last spring I was sick enough to last me for a lifetime, thank you very much. I am about ready for this cold to take a serious hike. Although apparently tomorrow’s high is going to be seventy? But then it gets cold again for the rest of the week, but not nearly as bad as this weekend and today are going to be. Layers, layers, layers.

Yesterday morning was disrupted by the power outage. It was only out for an hour, but it was enough to disrupt the day and throw it off track. I did read in bed under my blankets with my coffee until the power came back on, which was lovely. After which, I went downstairs and read while watching the news. I was pleased that Carlos Alcaraz won the Australian Open (I am no longer a fan of anti-vaxxer Novak Djokovic). After Paul got up we finished The Night Manager before moving on to His and Hers, which is interesting so far. I do enjoy Jon Bernthal, so there’s always that. (I didn’t like his take on American Gigolo, which could have been really great, but we didn’t finish.) I didn’t get a lot of anything done yesterday, overall, but I did get some chores done and the house won’t take much to look orderly. We’ll see how I feel when I get home. I have to make groceries on the way, but that’s not a big deal. I have some dishes to do and such, but other than that and straightening out the kitchen rugs, I think I am pretty caught up on the house? There’s no laundry left to do, the dishwasher is empty and ready to be loaded, so once I put away the groceries, I can do that.

The news, for the most part, has been good lately–or at least, better than it has been. This weekend’s Epstein reveals were staggering, and are only going to continue to get worse and worse. Murder? Rape? Torture? Cannibalism? How nice that our modern elites looked at Caligula’s court and said “hold my beer”, right? I mean, we’re still living under a fascist government, so the news can only be so good, you know? Minneapolis is still under siege, the Supreme Court continues to be a joke on the regular, and day by day the trash that voted for him to “own the libs” are slowly peeling away from him because the hellish policies of the mad king are affecting them, too–which “isn’t what they voted for.” Aw, shucks, sugar, we warned you and you mocked us–and while I am pragmatic enough to understand we need them to turn on all of this and vote it out; but that doesn’t mean I am forgiving anyone. Even those of us who voted for the lady with the weird laugh own this, too–because we’re Americans, and we could have done more to stop this. None of us get to say we aren’t responsible for this because it is our government, we’ve allowed this all to happen, and now we all have to come together to rebuilt it all back together and clean up this fucking mess.

That was part of the reason I wanted to watch Judgment at Nuremberg again–we haven’t finished, we only got about forty minutes into it–because of the entire notion of societal responsibility and guilt. After the war, the common German people–who’d seig heil‘ed and gone to the rallies and threw flowers and cheered the military parades–weren’t allowed to look away from their government had done in their name. The question of “true believer” or “too afraid to say anything” is something that can never really be answered. I was born sixteen years after the war ended in a neighborhood filled with war and post-war refugees from eastern Europe. I was shown the military films of the freeing of the camps in elementary school. I learned very young that fascism and Nazism were both evil. My childhood and teens were filled with stories of the MOSSAD tracking down Nazi war criminals, all over the world. There was a lot of World War II historical fiction out there, too, and even more fiction about Nazism rising again out of the ashes of history–William Goldman’s Marathon Man, for one, and Ira Levin’s brilliant The Boys from Brazil–and I did see Judgment at Nuremberg in my teens, which got me interested in the day-to-day German people, how the scourge rose to power, and what they lived through and experienced. We were taught that Nazis and fascism and antisemitism were societal evils…and that we Americans, with our freedoms and our democratic republic, were morally superior. (We were not–and in our American arrogance we also believed that such a thing could happen here.) Now we are in a situation (again) where our government has turned us into a rogue, authoritarian wannabe dictatorship–just as the Roman republic declined into an autocracy. Don’t blame us! we post on social media in response to foreign scolding, we didn’t vote for this!

How does that make us any better than the former supporters saying this now? The American penchant for dodging responsibility is perhaps our worst, most narcissistic, societal and cultural flaw.

And on that somber note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and try to stay warm if you can.

The dragon float arrives at the Orpheus Ball

Heard It In A Love Song

Can’t be wrong.

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and I am exhausted again. Yesterday morning I was still a bit on the foggy side mentally, and kind of planned to just hang out all day until it was time to meet people at Lilette for dinner at seven. I settled in with my manuscript, turned the television onto college football, and got started. I had completely forgotten I’d agreed to meet folks for a drink in the afternoon. Once I got the reminder text, I leapt into action and got cleaned up, summoning a Lyft. I wound up also going to the Queer Crime Writers’ cocktail hour at the Ritz Carlton bar, and from there it was on to Lilette for dinner, which was amazing and a lot of fun. I am exhausted again this morning, but it’s not as bad as it was on Friday (thank God) despite getting home late and kind of overdoing it again. But again, I can just retire to my easy chair with the manuscript and my red pen and post-it notes so I can get moving on this damned thing.

LSU won in what was apparently a very sloppy game for the offense, only beating Louisiana Tech 23-7, or something like that. I’m not really sure about the games yesterday and how they all turned out, so I am probably going to have to watch a video about them this morning before I get to work on the manuscript. I also saw that Florida, LSU’s next opponent, lost to USF at home, which is not a good look for them or their hot-seated coach. So, will Florida be fired up to take that loss out on LSU, or will LSU clean up its act and bury Florida? It’s almost always a great game, regardless–rarely does one team blow the other out, no matter what their rankings or records.

There are some great games next weekend, though, so that will be a lot of fun.

I may do some chores later after I’ve read for a bit. This aching-joint thing is not fun, just so you know. In fact, I think I’m going to go rest for a moment before I finish writing this.

Okay, I am back. I am still very fatigued and foggy, but I sat for a while in my chair and watched some news and college football scores, and feel a bit better and more clear headed. My stomach is being a bit weird, but I am also due for my first injection tomorrow so maybe this isn’t the start of a relapse (the fatigue was worrying, despite what my doctor said), which was a relief.

After I do finish and post this, I am going to get a bit cleaned up and dive back into the reading with the USOpen men’s final on in the background–like it is now. I like both players (although I think Carlos Alcaraz is cuter), so just want to listen (and occasionally look up to see) great tennis.

I would also like to shout out to those who won Anthony Awards last night, and especially Curtis Ippolito (Best Short Story), K. T. Nguyen (Best First), Rob Osler (Best Humorous), and all the others I can’t think of right now. I met Ms. Nguyen at Noir at the Bar, and she’s delightful (as was her reading), and of course Curtis and Rob are friends–and Rob is a queer writer of queer mysteries, so huzzah for this groundbreaking win! MORE QUEER WINNERS, please!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the rest of the day. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

A Horse with No Name

I wrote yesterday!!!

I know, right? It was only about a thousand words or so, but it was a thousand words or so more than I had when I got up yesterday morning! What a lovely Sunday it was, too. We were in another heat advisory (I have yet to check this morning to see if we’re in another one today; there’s nothing in my inbox, so that’s a good thing I suppose); and even inside with the air conditioning, I could tell it was miserable outside. I read some more of my current reads (Summerhouse, The Dark on the Other Side, Incident at Loring Groves), and did some cleaning around the house whilst also writing, which was amazing and felt even better. I also cleared up an issue with something else I am working on while I was in creative think mode, which is very awesome and cool.

I was reading Summerhouse, actually, which is setting itself up nicely for the next part of the book–I really like the voice; and was wondering if it was because the music of the words comes from the original Turkish, it’s this wonderful rhythm that just pulls you along–when I remembered the French Open Men’s final was yesterday morning, so I checked my phone to see who won–only to see that Carlos Alcaraz was up 5-4 and serving for the match! I immediately switched the television over to watch, and so got to see the thrilling end as Alcaraz was broken back to win in a tie-break that was very exciting.

LSU is going to the College World Series again, sweeping West Virginia in the super regionals. The game last night didn’t start until eight our time, because of rain delays, so I had to go to bed not knowing if there would be a third and deciding game tonight. They were up 6-4 when I went to bed (later than I should have because of the game, but I was also nervously doing some chores while it was on, so the house looked nicer this morning when I came down for breakfast) but they did end up winning 12-5, and made it back to Omaha again! Huzzah! And now on to the Jell-o Shot record set in 2023, which seems like more than two years ago, doesn’t it?

While we were waiting for the rain-delayed LSU game, we watched the Pee-Wee Herman documentary on MAX (or whatever the fuck they call it now), which was interesting and also sad (more on that later) and when we finished that, moved on to the Netflix adaptation of Jane Harper’s The Survivors, which is quite good. I’ve not read Jane Harper, but I know of her, and if this is any indication of how good her books are, I may have to give her a whirl. Just what I need, right, more to read? Sigh. But this triangular reading thing I am doing (a new novel, a reread, and a kids’ book simultaneously) seems to be working, as I am getting more reading done. (It’s also entirely possible it’s all in my mind, but…I don’t mind the occasional self-delusion…)

So, it was a good recovery weekend. I really enjoy being creative again, and getting some writing and reading and housekeeping done. I feel good for a Monday morning, and feel like this could be an amazing week for me, as long as I keep getting rest and moving forward. I need to make a new to-do list (I finished almost everything on the last one, even if it took a little longer than I’d hoped). I also started going through my recipe binder, throwing out things I’ll never make as well as duplicates; I was looking for Mom’s chicken-and-dumpling recipe, which is clearly now lost forever, which means going back to that recipe I tried the other day (and liked) and punching it up to be more like Mom’s–milk and flour, for one, to thicken the sauce–which isn’t a bad thing; Mom’s recipe was an adaptation of her mother’s, after all.

The Buc-ee’s in Pass Christian opened this weekend, too–I may have to take an expedition out there one morning on a weekend to check it out and get Paul one of their sandwiches; it would be nice to stop at a Buc-ees when I’m not on my way somewhere. Pass Christian is about an hour from New Orleans, so I could listen to an audiobook on my way over to check it out. (I always have big plans of exploring on the weekends, and then I never do anything about it…but going to Buc-ee’s, I could take highway 90 east and cross the Rigolets to Slidell, and I could take some pictures out that way, too…hmmm. I also need to cross the river and head down to the bayou parishes for something else I am writing…sure, it’s summer now here and I am recovering still, but like I said, my mind’s creative ADHD has been working overdrive lately.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning, most likely.