Work-at-home Friday, and what a full day I have in front of me. I have work at home duties to get done, a telephone appointment, and an on-line team meeting today. After I am done with my work duties, I get to head over to the gym to work out on my own for the first time since 2022 (!!!), and at some point we’ll be doing a Costco run. Yesterday was a very good day; it was the first time in years that I woke up feeling rested and awake and good to go–and it lasted all day. I wasn’t tired when I got home, despite picking up the mail and making groceries. I hung out with Sparky, watched this week’s episode of Feud, and made notes for writing to come. I also typed up notes for other stories, so I could create computer files. Paul got home in time for me to spend a little time with him before going to bed, and I slept very well. Apparently, overnight Sparky figured out how to get on top of my dresser and started knocking everything off, so all my stuff was put inside a drawer. Sigh. He really is too smart for our own good. He’s lucky he’s both sweet and adorable.
I also have some thoughts about stuff that’s been going on in the world and in my publishing world lately. They aren’t fully formed and ready to be vocalized as of yet, but I figure those thoughts will come together and written about at some point over this weekend to come. This is my first normal weekend after three straight abnormal ones (two weekends of parades followed by a trip to Alabama), so while I am probably vastly over-estimating how much I can or will get done, I am hopeful that I’ll get a lot of it done. I was pleased yesterday to see how much I had gotten done off my to-do list without consulting it, and I am also already feeling alert and awake and no longer tired, either. This was how yesterday went, so here’s hoping that today will be the same: energy and mental acuity all day.
It would be nice to get all these blog entries in draft form finished, too. We shall see. Tomorrow I’ll be taking books and beads out to donate in the morning, swing past the post office most likely afterwards, and then come home to clean and write. I also want to rewatch Saltburn this weekend so I can finish that entry–which is also more of an essay abstract. And I did write some more on my short story “When I Die,” which is getting longer but has finally started getting to the good part. I also have four more “where the idea for this book come from” entries on the Chanse series to finish as well. I also have some other chores around here this morning I need to take care of during breaks–the dishes, some filing, and some laundry. There’s trash to take out, too, and I kind of want to really start making progress on the apartment. I want to get the floors done this weekend and I want to move furniture in the kitchen for cleaning and so forth, too. As I said, I am feeling ambitious about this weekend, and since I am not going into the weekend exhausted and needing rest…I have high hopes.
I also need to get my entry about Carol Goodman’s River Road finished. I really enjoyed it, and if you aren’t reading her books, the good news is it’s never too late to start and there’s a terrific backlist.
And on that note, a load of laundry is finished and needs to be folded, so I am heading into the spice mines for the day. No worries, I am sure I will be back again later, okay? Have a lovely Friday in the meantime!
I slept in again this morning, and I feel rested and marvelous–if a bit chilly. (And yes, a quick check of the weather shows that it’s in the fifties this morning, and will dip into the forties overnight.) My plan to not leave the house this entire weekend has hit a snag; I do have to go make groceries this morning because there are a few things that are needed, alas and alack. But my coffee is tasting rather marvelous this morning, and as I said, I feel rested and good. Yesterday was a lazy day in which I didn’t do a whole lot of anything, really. I did some cleaning and laundry and put some things away, but mostly worked on cleaning up computer files (it is horrifying how out of control those all are, really) as well as spending quality time with Sparky. We watched both the ice dance and pairs finals yesterday for the US Figure Skating Championships, and binged Lupin in between. I didn’t stay up much later, and went to bed before ten…which makes the oversleeping particularly curious and interesting. But not complaining here at all. Sure, it would have been nice to get up earlier and get more things done this morning, but part of anxiety-free living very much includes not beating myself up over things I can no longer control. I can’t go back in time and get up earlier, so why feel regret or shame over it?
Constant Reader, I may actually be getting healthier mentally–finally.
So, yes, I do have to leave the house this morning–best to do it early and get it out of the way, right? I think I will also go to Mid-city to make the groceries. I like that I am willing to break routines now, and do things differently than the way I always used to. Does that sound odd or crazy? But I fall into ruts quite easily, partly because of my desire to always maximize efficiency and use my time most effectively. I still do this, of course–that will never change, methinks–I always try to plan how to run errands the most efficient way, but I’m not sure it’s necessary anymore. I find myself with time on my hands to waste these days. My inbox is always crammed full with things I have to at the very least acknowledge and read, and I like that very much; I’m always behind on my emails now because I no longer get as many so I no longer feel the need to answer everything immediately. I also don’t feel the urgency to pick up the mail every day the way I used to, either.
So, unless my plans get derailed this morning, my plan is to write this, answer some emails, do some cleaning around here and work on “When I Die” some more before getting cleaned up and heading for the grocery. I had hoped to finish that story and another this weekend, but Paul/Sparky time yesterday proved too much of a distraction and a necessity; Paul and I generally don’t see each other much during these last few months before the festivals, so when the opportunity presents itself, it becomes my priority and I will never apologize for that. I know I’ll watch the men’s final this afternoon, most likely, so I’ll definitely need to get a move on this morning to get everything accomplished that I want to accomplish before the skating starts. I also want to spend some time with Lina’s book, which I am really enjoying and want to carve out some time to enjoy it as well today. I did rearrange and reorganize the books yesterday–it’s amazing what a difference that makes for the appearance of tidiness in the living room, and hope to do the same for the laundry room shelves at some point; there are also some things stored there–the cake carrier, the brace–that don’t need to be there, which opens up more shelf-space.
I also got a new set of knives this week. My old set, which I’d bought about eight years ago at Costco, was just getting too dull and had been sharpened too many times, so I broke down and found a nice set of Oster stainless steel knives (dishwasher safe, no less) on-line and ordered them; and wow, I’d forgotten what it was like to actually have sharp knives. The cheese knife slices through block cheese like its warm butter, and when I cut up the rotisserie chicken for chicken salad yesterday I couldn’t believe how easily the knife was dicing the chicken and the celery. Clearly, I’d waited too long to buy a new set of knives, and I do really like them, you know. The block is smaller than the old one so it takes up less counter space, and the stainless steel handles look so modern and stylish–so yes, you could say that I am very pleased with myself regarding the knives. There are some other things I need to get around here to make life easier–blinds for my windows, since the crepe myrtles are gone and not coming back; a medal case for those medals I won for y/a (Sleeping Angel and Lake Thirteen were the books that won–gold and silver); and maybe this rolling cart I saw at Office Depot that can replace this little table next to my desk so that I can keep the office supples and so forth in, emptying out other drawers so I can use them for something else.
New knives, new microwave: who dis? Hell, I even bought more spoons to replace the ones that had gone missing!
I really do like getting better organized, what can I say? It gives me the illusion that my life is somehow ordered and orderly, and so what if it’s a delusion? It makes me feel better, and yeah, that’s probably partly an anxiety issue but it’s not as intense as it used to be and I don’t look at mess in horror anymore, but rather as something that can be tidied, and that is still satisfying for me to do.
And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines. Y’all have a great Sunday now, you hear? And I may be back later; I may not be back until tomorrow morning. Who knows? We shall see how it all turns out, shan’t we?
I also am hearing today’s title to the tune of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.”
It’s Tuesday morning and I survived Monday’s early morning PT. It went extremely well, so I am hoping that my surgeon will release me from it until February, when I can start strength PT. The wounds have healed, and cleanly, which is super nice. The bicep is also starting to look like a bicep again and not like a flat tire.
I also got back to writing yesterday and it flowed extremely well. I am very excited to be back on that horse again, and now that I know the plot for the book it’ll be a lot easier to get it finished. The middle (or Act II) will be a struggle as it always is, but at least I know how to end it, and I also know what the primary plot is going to be, and I do think it’s going to be really funny. I rewrote with a mind to the new plot, and everything just kind of was clicking into place and easy, which is AWESOME. I’m itching to finish this and get back to what I was working on before this project fell into my lap*. And I am having fun writing again. Maybe the surgery and the new meds served as a hard reset, like I unplugged my brain and then plugged it back in? I also slept well again last night, showing that Sunday’s restless night’s sleep was an aberration.
It’s very cold here this morning–it’s 44 outside–and thus did not want to get out from under my pile of warm blankets this morning as the alarm started its horrendously annoying beeping sound. This of course brought Sparky out from his fort under the bed, and he cuddled with me until it was time for me to stop hitting snooze and get up, which made it even harder for me to get up. (The affection is merely to make sure that he knows the exact moment when I get up, so I can feed him–he doesn’t fool me! He was nowhere to be found last night once I sat in my chair and edited what I wrote yesterday.) But the good news is I feel very rested and have some energy, so here’s hoping this carries me through the day. I have to go shopping for my secret Santa gifts, and I also have to pick up the mail and figure out when to make the red velvet cheesecake for Thursday’s potluck. I may go ahead and make the red velvet layers tonight, and then do the cheesecake tomorrow night, putting it all together on Thursday morning before work. That sounds like a plan.
I also went a little overboard preparing food for the week. There’s way too much of it, and I’ll need to eat dinner every night when I get home to get rid of it all. I also hadn’t calculated on the potluck Thursday (denial that Christmas is this weekend, no doubt), and one of my co-workers wants to get lunch with me tomorrow, so that’s two days I won’t need to bring lunch. Heavy sigh. I also think I will take Christmas day off from everything; no emails, no writing, no social media–I wonder if I can do it? I’d like to finish reading the Tamara Berry to move on to the next cozy in the TBR pile; there are so many ones with diverse voices and characters I am having a very difficult time choosing one. I am trying not to buy new books until I’ve made a significant dent in the TBR pile (with exceptions, of course–my always must-reads like Laura Lippman, Lou Berney, Megan Abbott, etc.) or donated more books to the library sale. We went to Costco over the weekend, and I had some stuff delivered; so another goal for the week is to do something about the box congestion in the living room; one of the reasons I’m not big into box stores as much as I could be is I don’t have enough storage space in the house to accommodate the things I could get; I’d be in real trouble if I did have the space. I am going to clear out the cabinets in the kitchen; there’s a lot of stuff we don’t need that has just been collecting dust for years.
And the cabinets and laundry room are seriously in need of organizing.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later.
*Perhaps my goal for 2024 should be to finish everything unfinished in my files…
Up ungodly early on a Saturday because I have to cross the river to the West Bank to get my oil changed. One of the most interesting things about this surgery recovery is it seems to have wiped my memory banks or something–kind of like an Apple OS update. Yesterday on my way to PT I checked the car’s systems and was stunned to see that I was due for an oil change. It seemed like I’d just had it done, but now that I think about it, it may have been as far back as June, when I went to Alabama and Kentucky and back. I’ve done a lot of driving since then, including a weekend drive over to Panama City Beach in October, and so it’s not really surprising that it’s due again–and thank God I checked, right?
But I continue to sleep well, and I am really looking forward to sleeping late tomorrow and just lazing around until I feel like getting up. Monday morning I have PT early, and then have to head into the office for my paperwork day. It’ll be a great and interesting week of trying to get everything caught up so I can take my four day Christmas break with a clear conscience–at least as far as work is concerned. My PT visits continue to go well, and I like both therapists I’ve worked with so far. (If you’re local to New Orleans and need physical therapy, I highly recommend Physiofit in Uptown on Magazine Street.) I am hoping I won’t need the brace after I see my surgeon again next Friday, and what a lovely Christmas gift that would be, wouldn’t it? It’s just cumbersome and awkward now, and the greater dexterity I get with my hand the more annoying it is to have to type around having it on. I also have noticed how easily I tire now, too–but I also know my body had a major trauma that it hasn’t completely recovered from just yet, and three weeks of being sedentary wasn’t a huge help; I have to build my stamina back up.
We watched the final episode of Fellow Travelers last night and while it was terribly sad, there was a kind of release at the end as well. It’s an incredible show, and both Matt Bohmer and Jonathan Bailey deserve to be nominated for Emmys next time around. I doubt that it will get a lot of Emmy nods–It’s a Sin, which was also brilliantly done and brilliantly acted, was completely snubbed by the Emmys. Twenty years ago it would have not only gotten a lot of nominations, it would have probably run a clean sweep on award night, but sadly, the history of AIDS and gay suffering simply doesn’t have the cachet it did when everyone wore red ribbons to awards shows and red carpets. I do recommend the show, and I want to move the book up in my TBR pile. (I am taking Raquel’s Calypso, Corpses and Cooking with me this morning and I am hoping I’ll be able to finish it while I wait to get the car back.)
We also started watching the second season of Reacher, which is very fun. Alan Ritchson, who was already huge in the first season, used the time between filming to bulk up even more. He certainly embodies the character physically far better than Tom Cruise could ever hope to, with no offense to Cruise; he’s just not the right physical type, and since one of the best known facts about the character is his enormous size, well…he was never going to please fans of the books. I stopped reading the series about ten or so years ago–I have no grasp of the passage of time, so you’ll have to give me some grace on that, nor do I recall why I stopped reading it. Obviously, Lee Child isn’t missing my money, but I was a big fan of the series and still remember it fondly; there were some terrific books in that series, and The Killing Floor may be one of the best series-launch novels of all time.
I have to work today when I get home from the oil change and other errands this morning; I really need to spend some time with the book today and I also need to work on the house a lot more. The apartment has really slid, and allowing Sparky free range to do as he pleases has resulted in a lot of debris on the floor–and all of my good pens are missing. Paul’s cigarette lighters, highlighters, scissors, spoons, plastic wrap, plastic bags, dryer sheets, and a lot of other miscellaneous stuff is scattered all over the floors both up and downstairs…and he’s also wreaked havoc in the laundry room and the bathroom. The kitchen floor has never really been completely cleaned up since the ceiling collapse, either. I have decided, though, that this year’s Christmas present to myself is going to be a new microwave. My current one is well over ten years old, and it works fine…but I never read the manual and so am never sure how to use for anything than reheating something. Paul uses it more than I do, and he also never cleans it, so it’s always a filthy mess. Since I never really use it, I tend to not pay attention and then I always notice it when I don’t have time to clean it, and then forget. They had a great one on-line at Costco, so I think next weekend I’ll go pick it up, and then donate the old one (after a thorough cleaning) to work so we have one in our department.
And that’s how I know I am officially old: appliances are my preferred gift.
Wednesday morning, can’t trust that day. Not going to work on Monday messed my body clock up and thus set my brain on “not normal! not normal!” and so I am all messed up. All day yesterday I kept thinking it was Monday; this morning I woke up thinking it’s Tuesday, which it obviously is not. I am doing a really good job this morning of not letting anxiety take hold of my mind–it’s trying, really hard–because to complete the “leave” process from work I need a form filled out and signed by my surgeon. (My fault, had I paid more attention I would have known and could have taken it with me Monday morning; instead I had to fax it to his office yesterday and they will send it back today–which has me anxious.) It’s very weird to think that I’ll be out of work for three weeks–very very weird–this is the longest break from going in since the quarantine; and even then I had things to do at home. This is three weeks of not doing any day job work, having no day job responsibilities, and the entire days free to do with as I wish–within the context of being limited by the surgery recovery. I do plan on catching up on a lot of reading, and who knows? Maybe I’ll even be able to get some writing done, during my period of limited activity. At this point I really just want to be done with the surgery and be well into the recovery process.
I did a book event last night virtually with Tubby and Coo’s Bookstore, with Jean Redmann and H. N. Hirsch, which was a lot of fun and I really enjoyed it. Of course, having to use my brain and try to be smart and funny exhausted me, so Tug and I immediately repaired to my chair for an episode of Moonlighting, and some other Youtube videos before I finally went to bed. Paul didn’t get home until after I went to bed, so I didn’t get to see him at all yesterday; it’s that time of year again. I spent some time rereading Mississippi River Mischief and paging through Death Drop again; I’ve fallen behind on my blatant self-promotional posts because my creativity for that has kind of dried up–I’m not very good at it to begin with, really–but I know I need to do more, so I hoped looking through the books after talking about them for an hour would inspire me to find more things to post about them. We’ll see how that worked out today, won’t we?
I need to do some cooking this week, too–I wanted to make my mac-and-cheese (something else relatively soft but very delicious and filling) and I need to make a red velvet cheesecake, too. I don’t think I am going to go into the office on Friday, after all–Tug has to get another shot that morning, and there’s something else I have to do but can’t quite remember what it is as of yet, and at some point I need to take Paul to Costco to pick up his new glasses. But that means I’d have to do all this cooking and baking tonight, and I feel pretty confident in saying “yeah, I’m not going to be in the mood to do that tonight” because it’s a lot of fucking work and I also need to run errands on my way home. (See what I mean about it being later in the week than I think it is? I keep thinking oh you can do it tomorrow night because no I can’t.) I guess it will depend on how I feel when I get finished with everything I have to do tonight, and how much attention my sweet little needy kitten will need once I get home–because once I am in that chair and he’s a purring kitty donut, it’s over for the night. One thing I do find adorable about him (there are many many things I find adorable about him) is the way he sleeps on me. He’ll start out as a kitty donut, and then gradually stretch out on his back until his is sprawled across me full length on his back, legs akimbo, and dead to the world with his neck fully extended. I’m so glad we got him and I’m so glad he feels so safe and comfortable and loved and at home. (He did make a few appearances in the on-line event last night.)
I also have those questions we were asked last night, so I probably could turn those into a self-interview as a means of self-promotion. I’ve done that before, after all, and it always works. Hmmm. Something to ponder the rest of this morning, no doubt.
I am finding the imminent death of Twitter or the Social Medium Formerly Known as Twitter slow and painful to watch, yet for some reason I cannot seem to bring myself to deactivate my account there. I don’t worry that someone else will grab my user name and create a fraudulent Greg Herren account; why would anyone do that to me when there are any number of other, more important people you could impersonate to greater effect than me, after all. (Besides, there’s nothing stopping anyone from impersonating me on social media as it is; someone could be doing it as I type this and I have no idea) Social media used to be a lot of fun in the olden days before Q-Anon and MAGA and conspiracy theories and so forth; in other words, in the golden era pre-small-dicked-billionaire. There were always issues with Twitter and trolls; we always were hearing about people being hounded off Twitter by trolls or outraged mobs of users; there was an “old West” feel about Twitter, and it did seem like public lynchings and humiliations happened there a lot. I was always worried about tweeting something taken a way other than the one intended–which happens very frequently there–and going viral. (Anxiety, I have it about everything because it does NOT discriminate; there’s nothing too small for me to have massive anxiety about.) But I do miss the way Facebook and Twitter used to be–fun and functional places to reconnect with friends and/or readers. Now they’re just bad habits I can’t seem to quit, like smoking cigarettes or snorting coke–things I know aren’t good for me, do nothing for me and if anything at all, are incredibly bad for my mental health, yet can’t seem to stop doing. Well, I quite smoking twelve years ago and haven’t done cocaine since the 1980’s, so I know already I can give up bad habits. I just worry that I’ll lose touch with people I care about and don’t interact with or see enough as it is.
Heavy sigh. Why do small-dicked billionaires have to ruin everything?
But I feel rested and together this morning, much more so than the last few days, so here’s hoping for a good day today–by which I mean one in which I can focus and get shit done.
We’ll see how it goes, I reckon.
And off to the spice mines I go. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll catch you later.
Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and all is well. I went into the office for a meeting and stayed there to get my Monday work done, since I have appointments that morning. It was weird, like the world had tilted on its axis or something; it felt very odd being in the office (and it also freaked out co-workers, too) and while it’s the kind of thing that generally undermines my equilibrium, it was all fine. Today I am going to run to the library sale, pick up the mail, and wash the car before coming home and settling in for some reading and writing with college football on in the background. I also have to run Paul over to Costco to pick up his new glasses, so I need to figure out if there’s anything else we need from there since we will actually be there. (I can always use more K-cups for my Keurig, and since in a couple of weeks my driving will be severely restricted for three weeks, yeah, it’s better to prepare now.)
In a surprising turn of events, yesterday morning I was digging through the closet looking for a shirt I hadn’t worn in years (there are many, and it’s been a few years) when I stumbled across a pair of pants that I used to love. They were so comfortable, but they stopped fitting about twelve years ago–they were transitional pants, a pair I had bought when I realized I needed to go up a size to 32’s, which was concerning at the time, and then they became too small within a couple of years, so I thought, well, if they don’t fit I’ll take them to work to the clothing closet and showered. Lo and behold, they fit comfortably! So I guess I’ve dropped down to that size again, which is delightful, and probably a side effect to the soft food diet. But it’s delightful to be able to comfortably fit into size 32 waist pants again–I didn’t think that would ever happen, and the fact that it did while I still am above my goal weight by eight or nine pounds is very cool.
I got home from work in the mid-afternoon and the construction guys were here again, working on the deck, which meant they were right outside my windows, so there was no way with all that pounding, drilling and other miscellaneous construction noises that I could focus and do some either reading or writing, so instead I focused on chores. I got the laundry done, did some picking up around here, and also did another load of dishes. It’s really quite remarkable how much garbage and dirty laundry and dirty dishes can accumulate around here during a week. But I eventually made it to the chair so Tug could be a purring kitty donut sound asleep in my lap while I doom-scrolled social media and watched history documentaries on Youtube–more about the Byzantine Empire (which really was the Roman Empire; the West made sure they rebranded the Roman Empire while talking about it and erasing it from history–Western Europe saw themselves as the true heirs to the Romans and their civilization, even as it went on in Constantinople for another thousand years after Rome fell. The West even went so far as considering eastern Europeans uncivilized barbarians, hence the Hapsburg hegemony), and some more stuff about the Crusades. There was also an interesting documentary about what city and culture is truly the “third Rome”–was it the Ottomans with Istanbul, the Russians with Moscow, or the Holy Roman Empire with the Pope’s endorsement? (Interestingly enough, the Nazis and their Third Reich was predicated on them being the heirs of Rome and the Holy Roman Empire, with Berlin as the third Rome, so yes, that Roman influence continues on up through the twentieth century.)
I also read some more of The Rival Queens by Nancy Goldstone, the dual biography of the mother-daughter team of Catherine de Medici and her daughter Marguerite de Valois; I’ve always known and have studied up on the French wars of religion before, but I never really understood how it really all came about under Charles IX and his mother’s regency (I always focused more on the reign of Henri III, his younger brother and the end of the Valois dynasty; Henri III was also openly gay, so of course I’ve always been interested in writing about him even though he was hardly a heroic king or a good role model for future gay kings), so it’s interesting to see how Catherine, who had little to no popular support, played the two opposing parties of the Huguenots (led by her son-in-law Henri de Bourbon and his mother, Jeanne d’Albret Queen of Navarre) and the Guises (ostensibly the more popular Catholic leaders) off against each other to maintain her own power and control of the government–which in trying to keep the peace and herself in power and her son on the throne, generally tended to make things worse. She was smart, though–very smart, and she played a very dangerous game but died in power and in her bed. The French, of course, hated her because she wasn’t of Royal blood and felt their royal family had demeaned themselves by allowing her to marry into them. They called her “The Italian Woman” or “Madame Serpent” or “Queen Jezebel”–all of which were used as titles for Jean Plaidy’s romantic biographical trilogy about her life. The general French distaste for Italians also played a part in her demonization by the people, and of course her having truck with the Huguenots didn’t sit well with her Catholic subjects, despite her being the niece of a Pope and cousin to two more. As I have said before, 1559-1594 was a very interesting period in French history, and the religious question/problem also continued through the next century–leading to the fascinating period of the 1620’s, when Dumas set his The Three Musketeers.
Ah, maybe someday. Reading The Rival Queens is certainly whetting my appetite to write some French historical fiction.
We also watched another episode of Karen Pirie last night, which we are both really enjoying, but alas, I was tired and sleepy and fell asleep a couple of times during the episode. (I also had Tug sleeping either next to me or on me, so of course I kept dozing off; if they could somehow get sleeping cat/purring energy into a sleeping pill form, it would sell like crazy. Nothing puts me to sleep like that, nothing. (I also continued my rewatch of Moonlighting, with an episode that featured and centered Miss DiPesto, “North by North DiPesto”–which was cute and sweet and fun, but ultimately a subpar episode. This was when the filming and writing of the show had started falling behind, and they would give the writers a chance to catch up by doing an episode without much David and Maddie–which meant a lot less dialogue and no talking over each other. I’d forgotten they did things like this to try to catch up on their schedule, and it’s also why there were never twenty-two episodes in a season, which was standard back then; I’d also forgotten that the filming of the show–and all its behind-the-scenes trouble–only spurred on more interest in the show; I don’t think backstage drama and production issues on a television program had ever been news before Moonlighting, which tells you how important the show was culturally.)
So I am hoping to get a lot finished today before it’s time for errands and things. I will probably pay more attention to football today than I need to–LSU plays Florida tonight at home, trying for a fifth consecutive win against the Gators; Mississippi is at Georgia in a clash of Top Ten teams; and Tennessee plays Missouri in another top 25 showdown. Alabama is also at Kentucky, Auburn at Arkansas, and Texas A&M at Mississippi State, so yeah, there are some interesting games on today, so it will probably be more than background noise I have on, alas.
And after I get some things done around here in the kitchen this morning, I am going to curl up with Lou Berney’s Dark Ride and give it all my attention.
Ah, the joys of a work-at-home Friday. I do sincerely hope they never take this away, because I will surely miss it. I was able to take Paul and Tug to meet the Cat Practice so he can get to know them, get his nails trimmed (he was quite shocked to try to climb my leg and not be able to hook into the fabric with those talons) and get a cat leukemia vaccination. They fell madly in love with him as he definitely turned the “I’m so adorable aren’t I?” kitten magic on for them, and they also confirmed our suspicions: he’s going to be a big cat; he’s already gotten much longer in the short time we’ve had him, and his legs are long and his paws are pretty big. He had no problem with the nail trim as it was occurring, making me think we might even be able to do it ourselves (Skittle would have never stood for it, and Scooter wasn’t a fan, either, and I was always worried that we’d hurt them by accident), and then it was back home and back to data entry and quality assurance and condom packing, woo-hoo! But while I was doing all of these things I had music on and was able to get chores done while taking breaks to get up and away from the work every now and again. We also went to Costco after my work was completed for the day–or the working hours ended, at any rate–which was nice. I don’t know why Costco is such a pleasant experience for me almost every time we go there, but it is–I also love how they organize the stuff in your carts for maximum efficiency and space usage; I try to load the cart in the same way. I also realized that there’s no need for me to have the back seat set up; why not put the seats down all the time and just have that big space in the back for loading groceries and so forth? It certainly doesn’t affect me driving in any way, and why not? Usually loading everything into the back doesn’t work and is an unsuccessful game of Jenga; but with the seats down it was not a problem at all.
It only took me six years to figure this out, of course.
Tonight is the LSU-Alabama game, which is generally an enormous anxiety trigger for me. The weird wiring of my brain makes me commit fully as a fan to the point sometimes where the games are emotionally exhausting and draining for me, and since even before the pandemic I’ve been trying to dial that back. There’s such a thing as too vested, and I don’t enjoy those emotional rollercoasters. I do enjoy the thrills and excitement of watching games, and I do take pleasure in being a sports fan–but I don’t want to be a sore loser or go to a dark place if the game doesn’t go well. It’s a game. I love my LSU Tigers and it’s always delightful and a lot of fun when they win–but if they have a bad year or don’t win or whatever, it doesn’t impact my life in any way, shape or form. That seems to be working for the most part–I’ve had a few moments this season that were setbacks to the healthy mental progress I’ve made, but it certainly made a huge difference in how I watched and enjoyed the game last year…which LSU actually won. It was a great game, and even if LSU doesn’t win, I don’t mind as long as it’s a good game and they play well. I have no idea how good any team is this year; even invincible Georgia has had a few shaky moments of vulnerability this year. As the second half of the season rolls on, conference races and play-off berths will be earned as well as trophies and awards.
I was going to run some errands today, but I had a delivery scheduled last night and the lazy incompetent delivery driver (for the record, I always overtip) couldn’t be bothered to contact me by text, as instructed, so my order was returned. I found out this morning it will go out again for delivery today, with no idea or concept or when or what kind of window we were looking at. Their on-line customer service was completely useless, I might add, so now I get to hang around the house all day waiting, which is incredibly frustrating.
I need to make groceries, I wanted to swing by Petco to get some more toys for Tug (and also price kitten foods and special treats), and I also need to go to Lowe’s. I need air filters for the apartment, I need to get a wagon to help bring groceries in when I am recovering from surgery, and I also want to get an easy to assemble set of blinds for the center window here in the workspace. Facebook Memories reminded me yesterday of how long ago it was when my beloved shade crepe myrtles trees were brutalized and destroyed, forcing me to put up an LSU blanket over the window to block the sun. I am too embarrassed to admit how long this blanket has been in my window instead of blinds, but that’s going to finally come to an end this weekend. We’ll see how it goes, and if it’s not a horrible disaster I’ll go ahead and get blinds for the other two windows so they all match. Look at me, taking charge of a situation for once instead of being engulfed in ennui and just letting it continue to slide!
Progress indeed!
We told the Cat Practice Tug’s name is Sparky, even though I keep calling him Tug (and sometimes Boot, like he’s Scooter), and so I decided yesterday that since there’s really no point in continuing the pretense that I am anything other than a Crazy Cat Lady, he’s getting a Crazy Cat Lady Name: Touglas MacSparquer, hence both Tug and Sparky are his names. It also pays tribute to my maternal Scottish line, so it also kind of honors my mom and no, I won’t be telling Dad that.
Since my plans for the day were altered irrevocably by the shitty delivery service, I hope to spend the rest of the day doing things while the games are playing in the living room, and thinking about the next book I am going to write. I have some emails to answer and yes, it’s fine, I can keep my phone handy and check it periodically to see the status of the delivery. This, by the way, is what boomers mean when they talk about how service in the country has declined. But it’s fine, really–I prefer to go to the West Bank on Sundays anyway, and this way I can actually take inventory and make a proper list. My frustrations over the change in plans for the day is fine; I can get stuff done around here and maybe even do some cleaning and writing.
And I can spend some time this morning with Lou Berney’s Dark Ride, which I started reading the other day at my appointment. Huzzah for that, and we’ll just get shit done around here today. That’s a good plan, and one I can live with….and truth be told I didn’t really want to go to the West Bank this morning, so here we are.
Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will no doubt be back later with some more blatant self-promotional posts.
Friday morning work-at-home blog, and the weather is supposed to get more back to normal for this time of year—highs during the day anywhere from the lower 70s to the mid 80s, dropping to the 60’s at night. It makes it even harder to get out of bed in the chill of the morning–and my blankets are incredibly warm and comfortable, as is the bed. But li’l Tug expects to get fed every morning around six (and is more than happy to let me know six is nigh by leaping over Paul and landing on me, before curling up next to my head while waiting patiently for me to get up and feed him and give him fresh water), which is going to make the time change this weekend a bit irritating. I also hate going to work and coming home in the dark, which is also soul-destroying because you feel like you’ve lost the entire day at the office.
But I slept well last night and let myself go back to sleep after the daily six a.m. feed-me Tug attack, which felt great. There’s a mail run to do and Tug’s first vet visit to fit into the day, and we’re going to Costco after I finish my work at home chores later. The constant, on-going kitten-proofing of the apartment can also prove challenging because you never know what’s going to catch his inquisitive must-play-with-that eye, and he is very curious and adventurous about anything. Cabinets can’t be left open. He’ll climb into the dishwasher as I am loading it–but no curiosity about the dryer yet. He’s also fascinated by water, like Skittle was–but the shower was uninteresting to him; not the case with Tug. He’ll tightrope around the rim of the tub while I’m showering and also walk between the shower curtain and the liner. He’s adorable and completely in charge around here, if you haven’t figured that out yet.
And I love having a purring kitty donut sleeping in my lap while I watch television or read.
Last night we watched this week’s The Morning Show, which absolutely felt like a season finale; I’m not sure if it was or not but it felt like it. I wasn’t super-tired when I got home, but Tug was especially needy so I repaired to my easy chair where I watched this week’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hills–which was kind of dull; but the fun of watching these shows is watching and reading the reactions of the fans and the recaps and so forth. I was thinking yesterday that these shows create community within their fans, as people want to talk about the cast and what’s going on with them, happily judging their lives, their behavior, their clothes, their make-up, their hair, their homes and their families. I was thinking this was unique to reality shows–remembering how everyone used to talk about Survivor and The Bachelor and American Idol back in the day, similar to how soaps would have group watches on campus where everyone talked about the storylines and the characters and their interactions. But we also did that with Glee and Lost and Desperate Housewives and various other shows. I do wonder what is it about film and television that drives people with the urge and need to talk about it with other people?
Then again, I always wanted to talk about books with other people–so I guess I can get it.
I was realizing the other day that this year in December will mark nineteen years of this blog–first on Livejournal and then moved here when I’d finally had enough of the Russian propaganda and spam over there–which is a longer commitment than most straight relationships and marriages, which is an interesting way to look at it. I started keeping it around Christmas of 2004, while we were still living in the carriage house–we wouldn’t move into the main house until June or July 2005; only to be moved back into the carriage house by Hurricane Katrina later that year. It’s also hard to believe sometimes that Katrina–and the Incident with Paul–was so long ago now; just like the Virginia Incident was a long time ago. Time inevitably passes, and just going through your every day routine living your life as best you can one morning you realize a lot of time has passed. The pandemic shutdown was almost four years ago, for fuck’s sake. We are now in year three going on year four of the COVID-19 pandemic, although no one really talks about it anymore. I am going to write about that whole experience at some point–there are at least three more Scotty books I want and/or need to write, which will take New Orleans through the cursed Carnival of 2020 (and the Hard Rock hotel collapse) and the shutdown and then afterwards. I think that’s been part of the creative malaise lately; knowing that the Scotty series, about to debut its ninth volume, is finally winding down. There are a lot of things I’ve wanted to avoid with these books but with the series continually going, I don’t have a choice. Scotty’s grandparents are all in their nineties by now–so death is going to have to come to the family. On the page or off the page? I do think it might be interesting to explore the Bradley side of the family a bit more; perhaps the death of the Bradley grandparents and a struggle over the will or something could be the basis for a book; perhaps COVID-19 might claim them, I don’t know. But I know I’ve not written about the shutdown or the pandemic, and it feels kind of cowardly to not address it in fiction yet.
Maybe I should finish that pandemic short story I started, “The Flagellants.”
I’m also thinking about getting blinds for the kitchen windows at long last; a do-it-yourself project I think I can handle.
And on that note, I’m getting another cup of coffee and heading into the spice mines. Y’all have a great Friday, and I’ll be back later with more blatant self-promotion.
I have to say, it was kind of a weird thrill to walk out of Costco yesterday afternoon with the ability to hear things I couldn’t before. When I started the car, there was a weird noise I couldn’t identify before my phone started playing through the speakers. As I sat there in the car, wondering what it could be, I slowly began to realize it was the air blowing through the vents to cool the car down. I’d never heard it before. Walking through the grocery store, I could hear all the things I never heard–the crinkling of packaging in someone’s hand; the belt moving the groceries forward; and on and on it went. When I got home I could hear the squeaking of the ceiling fans, the air conditioning coming through the vents, every squeak of the floor and the stairs, and even when Paul came home–the rustle of his backpack as he slid it off, the crinkling of the packaging of his mail, the sound of him walking upstairs–all things I couldn’t hear before. I turned off the closed captioning on the television and turned the sound down. At one point I eventually grabbed my phone and turned the volume of the hearing aids down.
It’s a whole new world.
Bouchercon is beginning to look more and more like a super-spreader event, with people I was around and having hugged several times testing positive since the weekend. I tested negative again this morning, and hope I continue to do so since I am having a major dental procedure done on Friday morning. I paid all the bills yesterday, and did a lot of catching up on emails and so forth. After I left work early, I went by the post office to get the mail before getting the hearing aids, and then made groceries. I masked all day yesterday at the office and will probably do so again today and tomorrow, just to be safe. I’m not as concerned about getting it as I am about giving it to someone; to be clear. If I have to reschedule Friday I have to reschedule Friday, and there’s no sense in wasting time or energy worrying about it. I have some proofing I need to get done by tomorrow, so hopefully tonight I will be able to get home and just plant my ass in the easy chair and tear through it so I can get it turned in no later than tomorrow night. I have some other things to get done this week, too–so I am going to need to really update the to-do list so I can make sure things get done and nothing falls through the cracks; the trick is remembering everything when I make the list. I know I have some short stories that need to be finished, revised and polished; I’m still not sure the revision of my forty year old story works, to be honest. I also want to get this other one, “The Blues Before Dawn,” finished for another call. There are some other stories I need to follow up on that have been languishing in their files, and I need to start plotting out some more stories and books, too. I also want to start reading Shawn Cosby’s new book, All the Sinners Bleed, which is a great title and an even greater story, I am sure; Shawn is ridiculously talented and one of the most genuinely kind writers I know.
I am still digesting Laura Lippman’s Prom Mom, which is the mark of a great novel. I was thinking her work has slowly and slyly started critiquing gender roles, particularly the way men are shielded from consequences and inevitably fail upward. Rob Simpson, the main male in this book, from the outside appears to be a golden boy who has it all…but the truth is he’s a pretty face and an empty suit. His business success is all due to his uncle’s nepotism, and his wife actually makes more than he does. All the women in his life shield him from reality, when they are all smarter and stronger and more successful than he is, and he’s so privileged and entitled he never notices that he’d really be nothing without the women in his life–from his mother to Prom Mom herself to perfect wife Meredith.
I didn’t sleep great last night, despite being super-tired. I fell into bed around ten and then woke up at two, and never really fell back deeply into sleep, instead just dozing into a half-sleep before waking up again. Like yesterday, I got up at five (an hour earlier than usual) and figured might as well get a jump on the day and get up. I’ve had a cup of coffee and will undoubtedly have at least one more before leaving the house; I am tempted to make a cappuccino. Readjusting to reality has been a little harder this time than it usually is–the weird and wonky sleep patterns making the least amount of sense of anything–but I am slowly getting caught up, I think.
The weird thing about my hearing (circling back around to our original topic) is that I’ve always had trouble with it, even as a child. Mom and Dad always insisted I only hear what i want to hear, and there could be some truth in that. My hearing has always been erratic, and while I’ve always passed a hearing test (barely; I was always about this close to needing hearing aids before) there were things I couldn’t hear and if there was ambient noise, forget it: I heard nothing. This is why I stopped participating in dinner parties in restaurants of more than six people; anything bigger than that and there’s no point. I can’t hear anything in a bar, and so I smile and nodded a lot. I often joke on panels that I must agree to do things when I’m drunk in the bar at a Bouchercon, but the truth is I didn’t have to be drunk; it just had to be in a bar and I probably agreed without hearing because I would just smile and nod and say things like “sure” and “sounds great” and would never admit to being hard of hearing. This last hearing test confirmed everything: talking to someone in a one on one situation, I only hear about eighty percent of what is said. Add another person and the percentage drops, and keeps dropping with the addition of more noises and sounds. And if you need hearing aids do not get them from your doctor. Costco was about half the price I was quoted at the doctor’s office; Costco will also give you a hearing test as part of the purchase price; there’s a two year warrantee as well as a six year in total plan for servicing. It’s really nice to be able to hear again. It’s going to be strange being able to hear everything at work, too. I think part of the denial I was always in about my hearing–the not telling people–was because I didn’t have a confirmatory test result before and just not wanting to admit to a disability–which is incredibly stupid. Without my glasses I can’t see anything; how is hearing any different than seeing? The Shame Monster is a sly creature.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’ll check in with you again later, Constant Reader, and have a great Wednesday.
Monday morning of Bouchercon week and so much to do before I leave on Wednesday it’s not even the least bit amusing. I somehow managed to get very little done over the weekend–I did get some things done, I always do–but I’ve really got to stop taking the weekends off and do some work other than chores. I did manage to get a shit load of books pruned off the shelves, with even more work to be done on those once I get back (and I am going to try to resist buying any books while I’m in San Diego as well).
I did make it to Costco yesterday to get fitted for my hearing aids, which I will be picking up when I get back from San Diego. When I had them in, the difference was so amazing I couldn’t believe it. The hearing tech stood in the doorway to the room with the door open to the main floor, and she spoke to me–in a soft voice–and I could hear her every word clearly and concisely, and the noise from the store didn’t muffle or down her out at all. She even said, “I can tell you can hear better because you’re speaking more softly than you did without them in–so you were even having trouble hearing yourself speak.” I came home from that, making groceries at the Carrollton Rouse’s (and just let me say, getting to the I-10 on-ramp from Carrollton heading uptown might possibly be the worst interchange/on-ramp I’ve ever experienced in my life–seriously, who the fuck designed our highway system through the city of New Orleans?) and collapsing into the cool of the apartment after being out in the “feels like 114” for far too long. I also paid for said hearing aids, which was significantly cheaper than getting them from the doctor’s office (at least almost fifty percent cheaper; always get your hearing aids at Costco, people, otherwise you’re being robbed). I need to make a packing list and perhaps start packing for the trip tonight. I have an eye appointment on my way to the airport on Wednesday morning, and when I get back from the trip I can get my hearing aids, and then that following Friday I have my dental surgery.
I also watched the latest episode of My Adventures with Superman, which is amazing, quite frankly, and then we watched The Flash, which debuted this weekend on streaming. I know we’re aren’t supposed to watch the movie because it’s star, Ezra Miller, has become extremely problematic in their (I believe they identify as non-binary and use they/them) personal life, with some arrests for deeply troubling crimes; I know there was a big push to cancel both him and the film before its release, and yes, the accusations are troubling. But…I already pay for the streaming service; I didn’t spend anything additional to watch, and yes, I gave them a view to count…and more the shame, really. It’s actually one of the better DC movies, far better than expected, and the plot was actually clever and easily understood and made sense. Miller, whose casting I questioned originally, is really good as Barry Allen. Barry Allen/The Flash has always been one of my favorite DC characters, plus it was superfun to see Michael Keaton put on the cape and cowl again as Batman. Warner Brothers has made some troubling decisions about their DC movies over the past couple of years due to the most recent conglomerate merger–cancelling the Batwoman movie and just shelving it, among others–so they put all their eggs into the basket of The Flash being big box office, and held onto that plan even after Miller’s behavior became an issue. I enjoyed the film, but cannot recommend anyone else watch it, either. I felt guilty even watching it, thinking about Miller’s victims, so all I kept thinking during the movie wasn’t just this is good but what a shame this is good. There will inevitably be a documentary and/or true crime book about Miller’s conduct and how it damaged this film and the studio–but I do think, by releasing the film, Warner Brothers sent a very dangerous message about what they will and won’t tolerate from a star they’ve put a major investment into…and I wouldn’t be surprised if the studio didn’t use money and leverage to get Miller the slap on the wrist he got.
It’s very old-school Hollywood, isn’t it?
It’s really a shame, too. I love Barry Allen, I love the Flash, and Miller is great in the role. But with them rebooting the DCUniverse and recasting everyone, it’s a done deal anyway. I hope Miller gets the help they need, and don’t hurt anyone else.
I am also really looking forward to The Blue Beetle. I’m hearing great things about it, and I am very excited to see a Latino/Hispanic cast.
Bouchercon looms, and I am leaving Wednesday. I have an eye appointment on my way to the airport–the kind of thing I would have never done in the past because of the anxiety (what if something happens? What if I get delayed there? On and on and on), so I think I am making progress now that I’ve been able to identify what the problem is. I have to make a packing list of what to take, need to be realistic about what I will and won’t be able to work on and/or get done while I am gone (nothing; I’ll be lucky to blog at all whilst I am there, let alone stay on top of emails). I did do a little writing yesterday on my story “Temple of the Soothsayer,” which I am leaving in Central America for this draft and I’ll see how offensive it turns out, all the while watching for Mayan/indigenous peoples tropes, stereotypes, and cliches. If it doesn’t work without any of that, I’ll move it to the Aegean–the Pythia makes more sense than inventing a Mayan priestess/legend, given how little I (or anyone, really) knows about Mayan mythology. But…jaguars. I’d have to give up on jaguars if I move it to the Aegean.
And I love me some cats.
And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. I have a lot to do before I leave Wednesday, very little time in which to do it, and I am going to need to really get organized over these next two days. Wish me luck as I head into the spice mines!
Queer and Loathing in America 