When We Make Love

Tuesday morning, which oddly is my halfway point of going into the office this week. It’s bizarre and will be mentally disruptive, but Thursday is a holiday and Friday my remote day, so when I leave the office tomorrow night I’ll be heading home for the weekend and not returning until Monday. Very weird, am I right?

Well, the first infusion went well. I was early (of course) but the slightly more than two hours wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad; the chair I was in while getting it was a massage chair that also heated, so I had some nice heat into my back muscles to go with the vibrating. I didn’t have any negative reaction to it, but alas and alack, there was a crisis at work and I was trying to figure out how to fix everything for everyone by communicating through the Teams app, which also helped pass the time and also counted as work; I mean, I was having a medical procedure and was working remotely, you bet your ass I am counting that as work time! I was a bit tired when it was over and throughout the rest of the day, but if that is the only side effect I feel from this, I can live with it. I also treated myself to Sonic on the way back to the office, and it was pouring rain on me from the moment I left the hospital until I got back to the office–which was the cue for every stupid New Orleans driver who can’t drive in the rain to get on the highway. The way people drive, you’d think it never rained here. (Narrator voice: It does, in fact, rain frequently in New Orleans.)

Despite having to deal with a work crisis, I was also able to spend some time reading Summerhouse, which I’m enjoying and is also making me think. It’s a very interesting take on long-term queer couples and relationships1, and the cultural differences between Turkey and the United States–they are discreetly and deeply closeted, but even that aspect of the story makes me think, and there’s also some interesting thoughts bubbling up about gender roles and gay couples that might make for an interesting essay in and of itself; the book is definitely engaging my mind. Thanks again to Kristopher Zgorski, whose review of the book brought it to my attention; I’d have probably missed it otherwise. (He is such a good source for great books!)

I also got to write a guest post over at Christa Faust’s newsletter, and the topic was Sex Workers in Crime Fiction. I wish I had done a better job, but she asked me to do it before I got sick–and then came the sickness, followed by the recovery process (still in it) and my writer brain might not have been engaged enough? I suppose I am not doing a good job convincing you to go read it, am I? But I definitely have strong opinions about sex, sexuality, and sex workers, and I do get some of those across in the guest post. Also, big thanks to Christa for inviting me–and if you’ve not read her work, what the FUCK are you waiting for? Seriously, get thee hither to your local bookseller and if they don’t have them in stock, order them and DEMAND they stock them from now on.

I also got a lovely shout out for Pride from ‘Nathan Burgoine. It’s so hard for me to register that Bourbon Street Blues came out twenty-one years ago…both Scotty and Chanse can legally drink now. Yikes, indeed. I guess I have been around long enough to be considered a sage? Ha ha ha ha, as if.

Also, I don’t know if you subscribe to Matthew Rettenmund’s Boy Crazy newsletter, but he recently wrote a great piece about Soloflex and their first model, Scott Madsen. Matthew does an excellent job of talking about celebrity culture of gay interest, and he also talks about things of gay interest from over the last four decades (he wrote an amazing piece for Esquire about Playgirl that is an absolute must-read). I may write about Madsen and Soloflex at some point myself, but more from a Gregalicious point of view rather than an overarching cultural one the way Matthew does.

Lots of links this morning, no?

The only effect to the infusion that I could tell was fatigue, which was one of the side-effects they mentioned, but not one of the serious ones. Fatigue is to be expected, so after I made groceries on the way home I was pretty wiped out. We watched some more Coyotl, which is becoming more and more fun as we go–although when our hero is the beast, he looks more silly than intimidating, which kind of spoils it a little bit. I do feel a bit tired and worn out this morning and didn’t want to get up, but my coffee seems to be kicking in right now so I am going to ride that wave, hopefully through the rest of the day. The LSU game was also rain-delayed (which is why we were able to watch Coyotl) until this morning with the Tigers up 5-3 in the fourth.

And it’s into the spice mines I go this morning! Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

I’m not sure what it says about me as an almost 64 year old gay men but my first thought every time I see this image is “Sure, he’s hot but no one is going to be fucking on that sofa because those stains will never come out.”
  1. Long term relationships are often missing from queer lit, as are gay men in their sixties as the focal point of the story. ↩︎

Rumor of Love

Monday morning, and the first infusion to treat the ulcerative colitis. I have no idea what this is going to be like or what it will do to me or how it will make me feel for the rest of the day, so who knows what is in store for me today? I did do some reading–interestingly enough, the treatment I am getting is also the treatment for plaque psoriasis, which I also have (it’s been under control since I got some steroid shots for it last year)–and there are some side effects to the treatment, which I hopefully won’t experience, either. The part I always forget is that I am immunocompromised now, and the medication will also negatively impact my immune system. I have to be very careful going forward about getting sick, need to have my liver monitored, and I also need to beware of tuberculosis. But after the infusion I am heading into the office for the rest of the day, so we’ll see how that goes.

I didn’t write much yesterday (like a bad boy) but I will tonight after work, depending on how I feel from the transfusion. I did get some things done around here and took a lot of notes so progress was made, but we basically spent the day watching the end of The Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, which was fun; Julianne Moore’s dark new movie on Apple Plus, Echo Valley, which was interesting; before moving onto a Spanish-language Mexican show on MAX, Coyotl: Man and Beast, starring our old Spanish-language crush, Alejandro Spiezer. I also finished Incident at Loring Groves (more on that later) and picked out Sing Me a Death Song by Jay Bennett (my favorite y/a writer of all time; definitely more on that forgotten crime master later) to be my next y/a read. I’m taking Summerhouse with me to read during the infusion; two to two and a half hours of being forced to lie down with an IV in my arm is a good time to read, don’t you think?

We also had some marvelous thunderstorms last night; there was a major one, with some of the longest thunder I can recall. It was one of those “lots and lots of rain in a very short period of time” storms we have here all the time, which is a kind of tropical rain, I suppose. I slept really deeply and well–didn’t want to get up this morning, frankly, which made Sparky the Hungry Alarm Cat very agitated. He was very cuddly last night, too, as I sat in my chair writing notes in my journal; he climbed up and gave me some head butts before wanting head scratches, collapsing his entire body into me and not letting me stop scratching his head for about half an hour before it was bedtime. I like that he is finally becoming more affectionate and cuddly as he gets older–although he can flip into demon cat who wants to play rough at any moment. Usually head scratches devolve into him playing with fangs and claws out within seconds, so I was a bit surprised at how long he put up with my affection last night.

LSU plays UCLA tonight in the College World Series at six tonight, so I’ll have to get home from work quickly tonight so I can get some things done around the house before the game starts.

I feel rested this morning, and this isn’t a very long week. I only have to go into the office or three days this week with the holiday falling on Thursday this year, which is kind of nice. I need to get some writing done–I probably won’t finish everything I want to send out for submission calls, because I won’t make the deadlines, but that’s nothing new. I was looking around yesterday, trying to remember all the stories I’ve not finished that might work for submission somewhere (picked one out for Ellery Queen), and remembered even more as I filed and put things away last night. It’s also weird how my short stories often veer into the occult and the macabre. I also, when going back to something I’ve not worked on for a while and thus have new eyes to bring to it, am amazed at how quickly I can see what is wrong with the story and why it doesn’t work–and often, it’s because of the tone and the voice.

Ah, well, time to get cleaned up and head out on the highway for today’s infusion. I doubt I’ll be back today, so will let you know how it went tomorrow morning. Have a great Monday, Constant Reader!

Queen Hatshepsut, Egypt, Grand Egyptian Museum