Turtles All The Way Down

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I also only have to work Monday and Tuesday of next week, so I pretty much have a rather lengthy vacation with a two-day work break. Yay! It’ll be nice to relax and recharge and hang out with the boys and make progress on everything, sleep as late as Sparky will let me…woo-hoo!

Yesterday was a busy day in the clinic–the afternoon, at any rate–but I stayed on top of most everything somehow. Today should be somewhat easier, and I can get caught up on the few things I am behind on (mostly Admin work, processing paperwork from yesterday) before the stay-at-home day and my weekend. I feel pretty good this morning (more sleep would be lovely, but isn’t necessary) and am in a pretty decent mood. I didn’t do a lot yesterday when I got home from work; I went uptown to get the mail after work, which was an adventure because I left the office late. Got some Christmas cards (apologies again, everyone) in the mail, and my Anthropic settlement information. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was a rather silly episode, but quite fun. I caught up on the news, refused to watch whatever speech that was that aired last night (and from what I am seeing this morning, I didn’t miss anything; so to me at least, it seems like it was nothing more than a distraction from the Vanity Fair disaster and all the other disasters rooted in this administration1), and then did some light picking up and filing before going to bed. I feel rested and good, miraculous for a Thursday, and cannot believe Christmas is a week from today. It was dark when I went uptown last night, and on my way home from Uptown last night I saw a lot of decorated houses, which kind of made me feel Christmasy. We’re getting a new television from Costco as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I don’t feel like we really need a new one, honestly, but the one we have is over ten years old, and Paul has been hankering for a new television, for reasons unknown to me, for several months now. I bought our current one at Target on the West Bank as a Christmas gift for the apartment all those long years ago. I don’t really care about gifts anymore, which has been a conundrum these last years because we don’t really need anything, so we’ve kind of abandoned birthday and Christmas presents. We usually, for example, get Chinese food for our birthdays as a treat, or a pizza from a place that’s inconvenient to go to.

I am hoping to get a couple of newsletters done over the weekend and set to post over a week or so; I need to finish my essays on Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem, The Princess Bride, and General Hospital, and I have a new essay series I am planning, about my lifelong obsession with all things ancient Egyptian; which will be a lot of fun to write, methinks2. I also need to finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice, and start my next read over this weekend as well (it’s looking like a toss-up between a Dorothy B. Hughes classic and the latest Eli Cranor). There’s absolutely no reason I can’t get a lot of reading and writing done over the holiday break, as well as cleaning and organizing with plenty of time to be lazy and relax. Staycations are kind of nice, actually. I also don’t think the clinic is busy next week, either; but after New Year’s, YIKES.

I didn’t watch this week’s new episode of Heated Rivalry, but I did see that Netflix canceled Boots, in what can only be seen as a capitulation of the company to the Pentagon, because the Secretary of Alcoholism didn’t think it “properly depicted the Warrior Ethos of the military.” I’d like to see that drunk rapist adulterous piece of shit make it through Boot Camp, and based on every piece of video evidence I’ve seen, that piece of shit can’t even do a pull-up properly. Such a masculine stud! Netflix also wants to acquire Warner Brothers, so they’re dancing around the Administration’s whining bitch-ass complaints. Leavenworth is too good for this piece of shit’s war crimes, and I also think he should be turned over to the Hague. Anyway, I digressed away from the point (because that piece of shit makes my blood boil), which was that a co-worker asked me in the elevator the other morning if I “wrote m/m romance under a different name.” I was a bit taken aback at first, but I just replied no, but kept thinking about it the rest of the day, and it’s popped back into my head any number of times since then.

I’ve not written anything that could be strictly considered romance other than a couple of short stories here and there over the years. I don’t read much romance–my supervisor loaned me an m/m romance novel last year that I still haven’t read, but writing gay romance (or “m/m”, whatever; but there are distinctions) is something that has occurred to me over the years. I do have several ideas for them, but they’re more romantic stories than actually romance. It would be a challenge, I think, but I love challenges and pushing myself to try to write new things I’ve not done before. I do need to read more romances, though, in order to really write a good one. Ever since Charles (shout out to Charles Click!) mentioned this to me the other morning, a sports one has kind of started taking shape in my head–partly because I already wrote an erotic short story about an athlete (who wasn’t a wrestler, LOL) that could easily be adapted to a novel.

Something to think about, anyway. Maybe after Chlorine.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow! From my workspace at home between the windows!

  1. At least we’re not invading Venezuela…yet. Happy with what you voted for, MAGAts? ↩︎
  2. And it gives me the opportunity and excuse to watch The Mummy movies with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz again. ↩︎

Blame It On Your Heart

It’s Pay the Bills Wednesday again! Huzzah? HUZZAH! Christmas Eve is a week from today (gulp). I guess that means I am not going to do Christmas cards this year. At least I got them out of the cabinet, right? Maybe next year. It was bitterly cold yesterday morning, and again wore a sweater and layers, so it wasn’t horrible. I was very productive at the office yesterday, was granted the day after Christmas off so I have a five day weekend next week, which will be lovely and relaxing. I also managed to get a lot of chores done around the house while catching up on the news and relaxing a bit. But the sink is empty and the laundry is folded; and tonight on the way home I’ll go all the way uptown and get the mail. There should also be a new episode of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City waiting for me to watch when I get home from that expedition, and there’s really no need to make groceries tonight; there’s plenty of things at home for me to make for dinner, should I need to.

I spent a good portion of free time yesterday laughing uproariously at the new issue of Vanity Fair and its glorious feature on the White House staff. I had let my subscription lapse because I no longer wanted the clutter of a print copy I would never get around to even paging through, or pay for an on-line subscription when I would never read more than one article every few months? Celebrity culture bores me for the most part, and the notion they considered putting Mrs. Canks on their cover didn’t exactly endear the magazine to me (yes, I know the staff rebelled against the new owner’s suggestion to do so, but I also figured it was just a matter of time until everyone was fired and the value of the magazine devalued and devolved) or make me want to subscribe again; but this? The photographs alone are works of art; framed and shot and angled and lit to show precisely how small and insignificant these monsters are; banal and ugly and boring and utterly devoid of class or taste. Madam “Press Secretary” may never recover from that brutal extreme close-up exposing the lines and enormous pores and the lip filler injection marks. The photographer deserves a Pulitzer Prize, and future generations will study these images–un-retouched, unfiltered–to try to make sense of this period of history. That is a futility destined for failure, for one cannot make sense of the insensible.

And you know they were all puffed up and excited to be in Vanity Fair‘s cover story, thinking about how cool and bad-ass they are…only to expose how ill-qualified they are to be in the positions they are in.

So yes, I might be subscribing again–but only for web access. I just don’t need more clutter. Texas Monthly remains my only magazine subscription, and I love that magazine so much (I do get 64 Parishes, the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities magazine, but for some reason I don’t consider that a magazine subscription. Can’t explain it, that’s just how it is–and you should consider getting both) I can’t see myself giving up the physical copy any time soon. But yes, the more I pare down the less I want to bring in–which, given my need to always be surrounded by stacks and shelves of books, is kind of a win on that score. I don’t buy many books, at least certainly not on the scale that I used to. I think there is a sense of finality in realizing the reality that I may never read every book I have in the house before exiting this world, and that has made a significant difference…not that I think about dying all the time or even frequently; I think I am just more aware of the time limitations and the sands running out slowly in the hourglass of my life

It was so lovely to come down to an organized kitchen, with an empty sink, clear counters, and the rugs in their right place. I slept very well last night, too. It stayed cold through my drive home from work, but this morning its in the mid-fifties so no need for any layering today; I can brave the outside dressed normally. It’s supposed to rain a bit today, but we are getting a lot over the weekend, and it’s bringing warm weather behind it. The forecast is eighty for Christmas. Eighty.

Madness, indeed!

And on that note, Constant Reader, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Wednesday be marvelous and filled with joy, Constant Reader, and I will be back toorrow morning.

Guitar Town

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Huzzah? I have an Admin Day and my supervisor is out of the office until tomorrow. It’s also 32 degrees (!!!) this morning. My desk feels cold, and there’s definitely a chill here surrounded by windows. The apartment feels nice and toasty; we turned the heat on last evening as the temperature dropped. It kind of feels like Christmas now, you know? Warm weather at this time of year always seems wrong in some way. I did very little yesterday, and won’t apologize for simply falling into a spiral of not feeling like getting anything done for most of the day. I wasn’t tired; I just was kind of in a low-energy recharge state for most of the day. I did write some notes for the book, and started getting to the place where I feel like I finally have the narrator’s voice, and that was what was holding me back from getting started. I am hoping today to get some good background work done on it after work tonight, depending on how cold it’s going to feel on the way home and once I get here. I do have some chores to do tonight, too–which I should have done yesterday but alas, did not. No guilt, though, which is kind of a lovely feeling, and undoubtedly a result of the anxiety medication.

I do find myself thinking sometimes so this is what it feels like to be normal before realizing and remembering that there really isn’t a normal; everyone thinks they are normal because we only truly know our own experience, and our minds instinctively think that everyone is the same as us. I knew I wasn’t like everyone else very young, which was very unpleasant, and was absolutely terrified people would figure out I was different and it took years for me to reach a point where I didn’t much care about being different anymore and actually embraced it. I am also very literal and completely oblivious sometimes, which really bothers me…but being oblivious, I am not really aware of just how oblivious I am. I am oblivious about being oblivious, which is kind of weird.

But I did watch a lot of documentaries yesterday on Youtube; Paul’s not been feeling terribly well so he spent most of the weekend sleeping and resting, so I was pretty much on my own yesterday during the day. I watched one on the Hapsburgs (always fascinating to me), one on the Romanovs, and several other historical ones–a lot of legends and lore of the South and the Appalachians; and other tales of hauntings and murders. I was, of course, horrified about the latest round of mass shootings, and more than a little surprised that one wasn’t actually in the US but rather in Australia. Since the targets at Bondi Beach were Jewish-Australians celebrating Hanukkah, I can’t help but feel that anti-Semitism was at the root of this horror. All mass shootings are horrors, but these ones driven by bigotry and prejudice really bother me. There’s no justification for killing other than self-defense, and even then I am not certain how one lives with that sort of thing. The end result of bigotry and prejudice is inevitably violence; which is why hatred and hate speech is such an abomination.

Targeting people celebrating a religious holiday is especially egregious and evil, no matter what my views on religion are.

Sigh. But it’s Monday, and a new week and it’s back to the office with me in a bit. Christmas is next week, and once again, I failed to do Christmas cards and probably am just going to give up on that for the year. I do need to wrap a couple of presents, and I need to ship one to Dad, but does it really matter if it gets there before Christmas? Probably not.

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

All I can think is that he’s getting cold standing by the window in his underwear like this...although it could be a prompt for a Christmas crime story.

Boulder to Birmingham

Thursday, and as always, my last day in the office this week. I was a bit tired yesterday after work, and so didn’t run an errand I’d planned, pushing it off till today–and I am not entirely certain I am not going to simply order things on-line and be done with it. I feel good this morning, but who knows how long that will last before I hit my Thursday wall? Last week, I wasn’t tired on Thursday when I got home; will I be lucky two weeks in a row? We’ll have to see. After I got home last night, I got into my easy chair and caught up on the news and The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, and was back watching news while I fell asleep in my easy chair. Paul had a board meeting last night, so Sparky and I were on our own, and he did NOT encourage me to get up and do things. Such a bad influence, really.

There was some interesting news here yesterday–a controversial Mardi Gras krewe’s founder was arrested. I shouldn’t mention this without knowing any of the details, but obviously as a New Orleans crime writer a bogus Mardi Gras krewe with an arrested founder could be very interesting. More on that later, as I am going to read up on the news reports about what is going on with this. I think it’s the Krewe of Mystic Kings, is/was going to roll on January 5th or 6th, and is something our city council president called a scam. Yeah, I am sure there’s a germ of a book in that story, don’t you? I have any number of Carnival crime stories I would love to write.

And where has December gone? How is it the eleventh already, with Christmas a mere two weeks from today? And New Year’s is three? 2025 hasn’t been the best of years, seriously, but I am not going to celebrate the end of a shitty year because inevitably the following year is even worse. Who knows what fresh horror awaits us in 2026? A depression and economic collapse, perhaps? Heavy heaving sigh. I suppose that also means if I don’t get my Christmas cards done this weekend they won’t get done. The suspense!

But I have some plans for the weekend, and I need to update my to-do list. I want to finish reading Postman, I need to write at least one newsletter, and I need to start some writing on Chlorine. I also need to outline it, do character studies, and build my Hollywood world of the 1950s and its gay underground. I also want to start taking boxes out of the attic and getting rid of more things. (As you can tell, I am now fully awake–thank you, coffee–and am raring to go.) It’s nice to be excited about writing again–it’s nice to be excited about life again, despite the world burning to the ground on the daily. It’s just so nice not to be tired all the time anymore, you know? Fatigue is absolutely real, and horrible to experience. I also have labs ordered for tomorrow morning, so I need to be up and at Quest at eight thirty tomorrow morning, which is fine. Right now, I have changed my mind and will make groceries on the way home tonight…but it will really depend on how I feel. I’m by myself in the clinic today and we’re pretty busy, so like yesterday, I may be drained and tired when I get off work. At least the grocery store is on the way home, you know?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a happy Thursday, Constant Reader, and remember–there are only fourteen shopping days left until Christmas!

You Never Even Called Me By My Name

A gray and wet Friday morning here in New Orleans, and it looks to be rainy and wet all day and through tomorrow as well. I have a meeting this morning before I have to see my doctor (maintenance, no complains), after which I have to take Paul to an appointment in Metairie, and we’re stopping at Le Costco on the way home. I slept great last night–rain and cold and a pile of blankets always works– and feel really good and rested this morning. Sparky was a sweet little cuddle-bug this morning, too. It’s nice and warm in the apartment this morning, and my coffee is delightful. I wonder how tired I will be after Costco? I’ll report back on that tomorrow morning. It’s going to cost us a fortune today, too, because we’ve not been in almost a month. But I am very delighted and happy to spend our money at Costco–especially since MAGA is boycotting them yet again, which is, as always,

I lied yesterday morning, unintentionally. I felt both sleepy and tired when I was writing my entry, and my hips did ache a bit as I walked around and climbed the stairs, etc. However, once I’d showered, had a second cup of coffee, and something to eat…that all went away. I wasn’t tired at work–had no trouble staying current on everything–and I was able to come straight home from the office, where I finished the dishes and did still another load of laundry. Go figure, right? The answer is to take a shower when I am dragging when I get up–a lesson I need to learn on the days I am at home, for sure. I also ordered groceries last night, which were delivered. I am looking forward to making chili tomorrow! I did some more collecting of notes for Chlorine–I’ve never had all my notes on it all together in one place, and I think this is absolutely one hundred percent necessary to getting this draft done. It’s kind of fun, honestly, to go back through my journals and see all the notes for books and stories I was writing at the time and other ideas and notes and even essays I’ve started writing in them. I’ll spend some more time with the journals tonight, and probably will get the notes all scanned in the morning tomorrow. I am really excited to dive into writing a book with my full focus and my brain and body functioning properly; it’s been a very hot minute.

I started watching another episode of The American Revolution, but Paul came home shortly after I’d started it, and we watched some of the Grand Prix final for figure skating. I want to finish that at some point this weekend, and I am taking The Postman Always Rings Twice with me to the appointments to read. It’s only 102 pages, so I should be able to get finished with it this evening. I still haven’t totally decided on what my other reads for Noirmas Season will be, but I definitely need to read one of Eli Cranor’s latest; I am behind on him. I know I am going to tackle that Dorothy B. Hughes novel, The Fallen Sparrow, and there’s some other classics on my iPad I may tackle, too. It also dawned on me last night that by making this month about noir, I’ve not been using hunks in Christmas attire for the blog, so I’ll need to rectify that going forward. Just because I am reading noir for Christmas doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Christmas!

I also maliciously smiled this morning about the cold rainy weather–welcome to New Orleans, ICE shitheads! It also is amusing to me that the charges against Luigi Mangione might actually be dismissed because of improper police conduct in their rush to show oligarchs they are more valuable and important than other American citizens. Good.

Sigh. The times in which we live.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I have dishes to put away and laundry to finish before my meeting. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Drink a Beer

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! It’s supposed to rain heavily and be cold all through the weekend, which means trying not to leave the house that often. But..it should be cozy for cuddling with Sparky and blankets and reading, and I do have a lot of reading to do. Conference championship games are this Saturday, and I don’t really care about any of them. They really are kind of pointless with the play-offs and the goofy no divisions in major conferences any more, so yes–chores and reading and writing are my goal for the weekend. I think I am going to make potato leek soup, or white bean chicken chili–its the perfect time of year for that kind of sustenance. I love soup weather. Dad and I had lunch at a chili place in Kentucky, which was a very pleasant surprise. Paul doesn’t like red chili, though, but I can most definitely make some white bean chicken chili. One nice thing about this cold spell–Sparky has taken to sleeping in the bed with us all night, rather than just sleeping in my desk chair or the bed we have for him by the fireplace (he wouldn’t use it upstairs) and coming up in the mornings before my alarm goes off. He sleeps in a puddle by my feet, but when Paul’s here alone when its cold, he cuddles with Paul and sleeps beside his pillow.

I’m feeling a bit tired this morning, but I forgot to set my alarm and woke up at the right time anyway, which was nice. My hips ache a little bit, and my body could happily return to the pile of blankets and the warmth of my bed. Tomorrow I get to work at home and go to. meetings in the morning, but in the late morning/early afternoon I have doctors’ appointments so will need to use some sick time, I guess. That’s fine, too. We’re going to Costco tomorrow after all the appointments, which is terribly overdue. I think I’ll make that chili this weekend for sure. It’s also nice to support Costco, because of all the DEI and worker-friendly policies and the current lawsuit against the criminal administration and its horrific policies. I got some Christmas presents in the mail that I’d ordered as well on the way home yesterday. I was terribly tired when I got home last night, but I finished the laundry and put away the dishes. I still have a sink full of dishes to deal with when I get home tonight, but I also am hoping that I won’t just be so tired I’ll go straight to my chair and the news. We started watching a CNN documentary last night–New Orleans Soul of the City, the first episode dealing with the city’s food culture. It was interesting and informative, especially since I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, too. There are three more episodes, too.

We’re going to be a bit busy today in the clinic, and I am working by myself, which is okay. I am current on all my administrative work, and I think the appointments end in the mid-afternoon, so I have time to get caught up on today’s work before coming home. Huzzah! I so much prefer to be caught up on everything by the end of the week, so I can go in on Monday with nothing hanging over my head. I am not surprised I am worn down this morning–I mean, I drove almost twenty four hours last week–and I think it’s cool that I made it through this week without experiencing exhaustion or fatigue. Huzzah!

I also want to get caught up on the newsletter. I have reviews of both the Hiaasen and King novels to write, and I also need to dig into The Postman Always Rings Twice–it’s very short, and shouldn’t take me long to revisit it. I worked on gathering everything Chlorine-related some more last night, which entails finding all my notes in my journals over the years. Ideally, Saturday I can do chores, make the chili, read the book, and finish gathering everything so that Sunday morning I can start serious work on this first draft. I think I never got past the third chapter because subconsciously I was aware that what I started didn’t work and wouldn’t work as I wrote more, which would mean going back and redoing, and I hate that kind of thing. Better to catch it now before it involved a shit ton of unraveling, right? I also think I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend–but we’ll see how that goes, won’t we?

I also think my creativity has been in overdrive these last couple of months because I am getting ready to commit to writing another book–and now that I am focusing in on what I want to write, that all-over-the-place creativity is beginning to hone in, which is also super-cool.

And on that note, it has started raining so I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a glorious Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before my meeting tomorrow!

An artist’s rendering of a very sexy Egyptian god Anubis, who was my favorite, along with Bastet, in the Egyptian pantheon.

I’m Moving On

And I am back home.

I got here last night sometime between seven-thirty and eight; I don’t remember exactly what time I left Kentucky. I was also adventurous and broke tradition by coming home a different way than I have every time I’ve driven back since my parents moved up there. This actually is a big deal; I used to have a lot of anxiety when I drove–I don’t know why the thought of missing a turn or getting lost has always wound me tighter than a drum, but I guess it was the anxiety. But I was relaxed all the way up there, and I was relaxed all the way back, which was nice. I wasn’t even tired when I got there Tuesday night, either; I think the anxiety used to wear me out. I was tired when I got home last night, though; so I guess I did have a bit of it because I didn’t know where I was going. This time, I took the Cumberland Parkway across Kentucky to I-65 and came down through Nashville rather than Chattanooga. It was a very nice drive, and I don’t think I’ll have anxiety the next time I come that way.

It was also nice to unplug from the world. I only checked email to delete junk, and I think I answered one email–from my editor–on Tuesday while I was on the road. I have no idea what it going on in the country and the world, and I’m not really sure I want to get caught up, either. I do have some things I need to do today–our grocery situation is kind of dire–and some laundry and chores, and I don’t think I am going to attempt to do any kind of writing today–maybe in my journal. I listened to Laurie R. King’s superb O Jerusalem on the way up, and to Carl Hiaasen’s Fever Beach on the way back; which I have about an hour left to finish–it’s excellent and hilarious and thought-provoking, and there will definitely be more about both audiobooks in the newsletter, and relatively soon (I hope) at that. I didn’t listen to my Donna Andrews Christmas audiobook because I didn’t finish the Meg Langslow book I’d started last weekend. I will finish reading A Flock and a Hard Place this week, but am not sure when I’ll be able to get to the audiobook. I think I had decided to make December “Noirmas Season,” so I am going to try to get some noir read or revisited this next month, probably starting with The Postman Always Rings Twice, because it’s been a hot minute and what better way to kick off Noirmas Season than with the master? I also have some television to catch up on, too.

But the apartment is in pretty good shape, so I shouldn’t have too much trouble getting back on track this morning, huzzah! I have email inboxes to clean out (my email tab shows over 110 this morning; it’s not freaking me out the way it would have before, but still). I did watch the end of Alabama-Auburn last night when I got home, which was a much better game than I was expecting. I was driving and missed LSU-Oklahoma, which turned out to be a better game than I was expecting in the first place. Most of the teams I was rooting for over the “rivalry weekend” lost, which was disappointing, but they were mostly good games. I am really not interested in the post-season, but will watch LSU’s bowl game if they go to one, thus freeing up my Saturdays going forward. I am a bit better about not being glued to my easy chair every Saturday, too. The anxiety medication has apparently also removed my fear of missing out, which is really nice.

I’m really glad I went, to be honest. It was nice seeing all of my extended immediate family again–I have some really good-looking and smart grand-nieces and nephews (sigh)–and I enjoy spending time with Dad. I am learning a lot about the family history from him, and it’s nice hearing about what things were like for him and Mom when they first started dating and their early married life. And not being fatigued and worn out by driving twelve hours twice within a five day period the way I would have been before is also good to know. I’ve been feeling a lot better these last few weeks, in all honesty, and I think not being tired after work until Thursday night is a VAST improvement. I was getting kind of worried that the fatigue and lack of energy was my new normal, which was concerning but there was no point in even worrying about it because it was beyond my control. I do think I am going to start working on my physical condition a bit more going ahead, like going back to the gym and getting into better shape. What’s with the crazy talk, amirite?

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Hope you had a marvelous holiday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later today (stranger things have happened, you know) with another entry or a newsletter or maybe…nothing at all until tomorrow morning.

The Roman Emperor Hadrian’s lover, Antinoüs, depicted as the Egyptian god Osiris

Wagon Wheel

Looks like Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around again, woo-hoo! Apparently another cold front is swooping down on us from the frozen north; temperatures dipping down into the forties (!!!!) this weekend. The meteorologists are also saying we’re done with temperatures in the 80s until spring–but I am not holding my breath on that one. New Orleans weather always has a habit of making forecasters look foolish because, well, it’s New Orleans weather. It snowed earlier this year, for example.1 But I am actually enjoying this respite from the heat and humidity, and I am sleeping like a stone every night since the weather changed, which is delightful. Even the time change wasn’t as disruptive as it usually is–although last night I fell asleep in my chair around eight-ish, which used to be nine-ish. But I don’t mind. I didn’t get much done when I got home from work yesterday, because I was feeling tired, and Sparky was feeling needy. I did run some errands on the way home, getting the mail and picking up prescriptions (two more will be ready for pick-up today, I think), but once I was home, I didn’t really do a lot of anything. I was on edge a bit about yesterday’s elections, but checked the news before going to bed and saw that the Reich Wing was getting trounced everywhere–so much for MAGA’s popularity–and was even more delighted to see this morning that those results held. Three seats in Mississippi’s state house flipped Democratic, too–in Mississippi. MISSISSIPPI. Think about that for a moment…and what it implies about the midterms. I’m feeling hopeful, at least for this morning at any rate.

Darth Cheney died, and there was a massive blue wave. Who could ask for anything more? If voters are this angry with MAGA now, imagine how the midterms could go. What a lovely way for November to start, am I right?

Today is going to be a busy one at work. Our nurse is out, and it’s just me in the clinic today. Undoubtedly I will be exhausted when I get home tonight, but I also decided last night to go back and finish reading The Hunting Wives (which was interrupted by Halloween Horror Month), since I was only a chapter into the Scott Carson. I will be rejiggering my reading schedule and what is up next over the next few days. I do need to get caught up a bit on my Donna Andrews, so I can listen to one of her Christmas mysteries on the way up to Kentucky later this month for Thanksgiving. I am not dreading that drive as much as I usually do, and I suppose this is the first major test of the recovery, isn’t it? Twelve hours in a car? But the key is to take my time and not get stressed about anything, and I may even try going a different way–through Nashville and up the Cumberland Parkway. Anything to avoid Chatta-fucking-nooga. I’ll drive home the old way, most likely, but it’s not a bad thing to shake things up a little bit, is it?

I did watch some more Appalachian lore videos last night, which are always fun and inspiring. I started thinking about the next Scotty last night–trying to land on a title and a time of the year, leaning towards Halloween Party Hijinks–which is also kind of fun. I have no idea what the plot of that would be, but I always have to have the title and the time of the year first. Does it make any sense? Not in the least, but I am extremely different from every other writer out there; not better nor worse, just different when it comes to writing and the writing process. I want to work some more on my novella tonight, too. So far, tomorrow looks like a very easy day in the clinic, despite again not having a nurse and working the schedule entirely on my own, which will wear me out for sure.

Oh, and People named Jonathan Bailey as the first openly gay Sexiest Man Alive. Yesterday was a very good day, wasn’t it? To be fair, he definitely is one of the sexiest men alive, and it’s not something that I ever pay that much attention to–the last one I remember was the joke selection of Blake Shelton (bitch, please) and that was nearly ten years ago–but this is landmark, and also a bitch-slap to the mouth-breathing haters. I’m actually surprised President Stillson hasn’t whined about never being picked for this…

And on that note, I should pay some bills before I head into the office.

Have a lovely mid-week Wednesday, and I will be back tomorrow morning for sure, for sure.

  1. The snow days, and the novelty of snow, was fun…but not something I want to experience all the time. ↩︎

Let the Mystery Be

Ah, it’s Monday morning and it’s back to the office with me today. It’s currently 54 degrees in the Crescent City (it was supposed to dip down into the 40s for the low; maybe it happened while I was sleeping), and it’s light outside. I also get to give myself my shot this morning by myself, but I’m not terribly concerned about that–no anxiety here!–because there are instructional videos on Youtube, for a worst case scenario. I can also tell it’s about time for it, as I’ve had some very small stomach issues (nothing major or disruptive) over the course of the weekend. The Saints apparently got pummeled again yesterday, too–I imagine there aren’t many people around who remember how hapless they used to be, so this recent turn of ineptitude is probably a big shock.

At least we managed to win a Super Bowl during that run, you know?

We watched Jurassic World: Rebirth1, primarily for Jonathan Bailey and dinosaurs, and Bailey didn’t disappoint, and some of the dinosaurs were really cool…but the plot was stupid and the movie was really poorly written, clearly relying on the dinosaurs (and Jonathan Bailey) to make the viewer forget how abysmal the film actually is. When it ended, Paul said, “I am so glad we didn’t pay to see that in the theater” and I couldn’t do anything other than agree. I mean, it’s usually not a good sign when you’re rooting for the dinosaurs, right? (Except for Jonathan Bailey…hmm, sensing a theme in this paragraph) Scarlett Johansson was pretty kick-ass as the leader of the “extraction” theme–they are being sent into the dinosaur area to retrieve blood for medical research from the biggest dinosaurs (land, sea, air) which also doesn’t make sense…since the way it was explained only said they needed it from a large dinosaur, so why not just get it all from the first big one you encounter? Because, silly viewer, there would be no movie after the sea dinosaur! Contrived, contrived, contrived…and none of this shit made the least bit of sense. I know, I know–but DINOSAURS!

Yeah, sorry, I still need a plot and story that make sense and don’t have holes big enough to drive an aircraft carrier through in my monster movies. And really, that’s all these movies are–monster movies with cash grab sequels. I think I’ve only seen two before this one: the original and one of the sequels with Chris Pratt, who I didn’t know yet was a garbage piece of shit person. He is the worst Chris. I doubt I’ll watch another of these movies, and I certainly would never pay to watch one, for sure.

Yesterday was a nice, relaxing day. It was a good weekend overall, really. We got Paul’s new phone set up, we drove out to the mall so he could get some new clothes for a gala event he has to go to this week, and then we went all the way to Kenner to get him some new over-the-ear headphones, because the best Christmas gift ever (the original ones I got him almost nine years ago) wouldn’t sync with the new phone (much like how my hearing aids don’t with my new phone), and we got him some nice new ones, that synced up immediately. We watched the movie at night and I mostly just did chores and some research yesterday on Youtube–primarily watching videos about Southern/Appalachian lores and legends to research for potential stories of my own (one synced up nicely for an unfinished young adult novel I want to get done in 2026), which is quite marvelous, really. I still haven’t made the to-do list that’s absolutely necessary for me to stay on track this week, which I need to do today. The good news is I feel alert, rested and mentally alert, which is always a good thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader–remember, Christmas looms on the horizon–and I’ll be back tomorrow morning, I promise.

  1. I actually read the Michael Crichton original novel before it was filmed. ↩︎

Hold What You’ve Got

And today is yet another remote day. It would be anyway, but the office is only open for the access program and the pharmacy, and I am not needed for either so I will work remotely again today. However, after I am finished with work-at-home duties today, I am going to venture out and see what is open and what is not–or how bad the roads are. I know people are out there driving, but they are also New Orleans drivers, and I don’t know if I want to be on slippery, icy roads with people who can’t drive in rain. I am getting a little tired of being inside–I’ve literally not been outside of the house other than to take out trash since last Saturday, and the morning of the blizzard to take some pictures of the street–and while this blizzard has been such a lovely distraction, such an unexpected joy, and period of rest that we kind of needed. It was Christmas then the New Year’s attack happened and it was the Sugar Bowl and Twelfth Night and Super Bowl preparation–and we got a chance to stop, slow down and rest and find some joy. Even I–who generally hates the cold and snow and will avoid it at all costs–got caught up in the wonder of it all. It was wild and wacky and fun and so insane–and so perfect to have happen when I am writing about the insane world Scotty lives in, too. (Yes, I also worked on the book last night, and it went well, even if I am a little rusty. More on that later.) It was also lovely being all snug and comfy and cozy and warm inside, while it was cold and snowing outside. The novelty of being snowed in at home in New Orleans for three days is so surreal and nonsensical to me, that it still hasn’t completely sunk in as a quite real thing that happened. I definitely am going to write about it; people all over social media here are trying to come up with a name for the event and there are several good ones, but the one I am pinching for my book title will be The Big Freezy. I don’t know anything other than it will be funny, it will be a crime/caper novel, and it will be set during the blizzard of 2025. God only knows when I’ll get to it, but that’s a promise, Constant Reader.

That’s the lovely thing about New Orleans; we always have these communal experiences together. Everyone here will remember the blizzard and what they did, and everyone will have stories to swap for decades here. Mardi Gras, Jazz Fest, the Saints, potholes, the stoplights just flashing during rush hour, the Crescent City Connection traffic backed up for miles–these are all things we’ve experienced and can relate to when someone else brings it up; part of the threads that connect us all as a community. And New Orleans will always embrace the joy.

That’s the roadmap we have for the next four years, so as long as the news out of Washington remains grim and authoritarian, as what few government norms we have left are erased and decimated all in the service of a petulant toddler’s whims and grievances, we have to find our own joy to cling to. I found joy in my home city and an unexpected once-in-a-lifetime blizzard (although who knows? It could be an annual event from now on, too) and in getting my cover for my new book and in spending this unexpected down time just resting and relaxing and not letting things get to me. We all have to do this, and we also need to talk about our joy, because that is another way to fight evil and hate–with our joy. Maybe this reign of terror is easier on me than it is for straight people, because I always thought the majority of straight white people were horrible monsters, so most of this isn’t surprising to me. I can see why this was a surprise to so many people, because they never pay much attention to anything until it affects them directly, no matter how many marginalized people they know. I am almost sorry for them, but can’t be completely, since their obliviousness and tunnel vision helped us get to where we are now–and don’t get me started on white women, the enemy of all that is decent and kind. (Don’t @ me with your “not all white women” bullshit. The majority of you voted for him. Clean up your own house and don’t come for me about actual fucking facts. And I will remind you yet again that New Orleans always delivers over eighty percent of its vote for the Democrat presidential candidate. I can get on my fucking high horse about this shit, and I will rub your fucking face in it if you bring that denial shit here. You didn’t vote for him, this doesn’t apply to you, snowflake.)

See how easy it is for a mood to turn foul when you go down the white supremacy road? It doesn’t take me long, ever.

But yes, joy. Find joy, everyone, in small things and try to see the wonder and beauty in our lives because it is there, and we can’t let anxiety over the world burning to the ground around us drive joy out and replace it with misery. I’m going to try to mention at least one thing every day on here that brings me joy, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem. I’m not an optimistic person so I doubt very seriously that I’ll either remember every day or will even be able to think of something, but this morning, as the sun shines and all the snow is melting outside, I feel contented and happy and at peace. It’s a good feeling, too, and something I encourage all of us to work towards as we head into this brave new world.

I have to admit I’ve been watching a lot of World War II documentaries during this snow break, and while I’ve mostly watched them about the Pacific War the last few years, this past week I’ve focused my documentary viewing on Nazi Germany and the Holocaust. (Can’t imagine why…) It’s kind of eye-opening, and the way the Allies treated the Germans–forcing them to clean up the concentration camps, having to see what they ignored and pretended to ignore in all of its horror (to be fair, I’m sure they didn’t know the extent of what was happening because it’s almost impossible to even conceive of, let alone believe, that any modern Christian European nation would efficiently exterminate twelve million people, but who wants to be fair to Nazis?), and as a nation they learned. We learned nothing from our own civil war and the white supremacy baked into our system; and we missed the opportunity to stomp out racism and white supremacy after that war ended…and never corrected the revisionist history promoted by the Klan and their Klan-wives. That’s kind of why we are where we are now. If we’d simply held firm and never allowed Southerners to memorialize their treason with statues and monuments to serve as reminders of their treasons…but they were venerated instead of pissed on, which is less than such monuments deserve. Fuck the Lost Cause; it deserved to be nothing more than dust in the archives.

And yes, I worked on the book last night after I finished my work at home duties, and overall, it went pretty well despite the rust and creaky muscles. I am feeling so much better about writing, being able to write, and getting everything done that I need to get done to get caught up and back on schedule for this weekend. We may go to Costco later on–if they’re open–but I am going to wait to go make groceries and check the mail until tomorrow, when I can be relatively certain most places will be open. It’s amazing how much of the snow has disappeared over night; my stairs and the walk are clear now. I think once I finish this I may walk out and check my car and the street.

And on that note, Constant Reader, I am heading into the spice mines to get things done. Have a great Friday, and remember to take a moment and experience joy–no matter how small of a delight it may be!