Tag: family

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.

East Bound and Down

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well and peaceful. I have fed His Majesty, Tuglas MacSparkle, and he went back upstairs to cuddle in bed with Paul. Yesterday was a very nice day; I got my work done, as well as a lot of chores. I had groceries delivered, picked up the mail, and then relaxed into my evening. We got caught up on South Park (oh my GOD1), Heated Rivalry, and finished Death by Lightning before moving on to the latest Knives Out movie, Wake Up Dead Man, which referenced the works of John Dickson Carr (whom I have not read). I also watched a documentary on the French House of Valois, which was very interesting. All were thoroughly enjoyable, too. These Benoit Blanc mystery movies are so much fun, so cleverly written and filmed, and there’s always some pithy commentary on a social issue–in this one, religion and power–which doesn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer, but are there if you’re paying attention. The acting is also fantastic; Daniel Craig is terrific as Benoit, and Josh O’Connor is terrific as the main suspect, a compassionate priest confronted with a toxic parish led by a toxic churchman. I also slept really well last night, too–and His Majesty let me sleep later than usual, which was also very nice. Thanks, Sparky!

I do enjoy being rested, you know? I also need to do some reading and things this morning while I do some more chores. I need to get the dishwasher unloaded, the floors done, and some other filing and so forth finished. I also need to work on writing, too. I want to finish The Postman Always Rings Twice reread; the month is almost half over and I’ve done so little for Noirmas that it’s kind of sad. Maybe I’ll rewatch something classic this morning, or after Paul goes off to his trainer; there’s no football today, after all. I think I have both In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers on the Hulu DVR; either of which would work. Or perhaps some 1980s neo-noir? You can never go wrong with Body Heat or Masquerade, after all, or some of those other unsettling films from the 1980s.

But I also have to decide whether I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend or not; next weekend would be too late, of course, and I have to send Dad his gift in the mail–which is more of a joke gift, but it should make him laugh, and that’s what matters.

I also want to start paring things down again. Another sweep through the books, a box from the attic, and straightening and reorganizing the pantry and my cabinets and the refrigerator. I also am going to be working on gathering my Chlorine notes, so I can review them all and start sketching out the story and figuring out my characters and who they are and making it slick and tight. Obviously, the first draft will not be done by the end of the year, which is what I was hoping for, but time has this nasty habit of slipping through my fingers lately. (And by lately, I mean the last twenty years.) I already feel like this morning is slipping away from me already, too. Those kinds of thoughts used to lead to anxiety spirals, and no, I do not miss those horrible spirals in the least. They were exhausting, really; anxiety spirals always led to adrenaline bursts which inevitably left me exhausted and worn out and tired to the bone; like driving to Kentucky. This last time was wonderful. I wasn’t in the least bit concerned about getting there as fast as I could, didn’t worry about losing time, and recognized that the time driving was actually out of my control–traffic is something I am, and always will be, at its mercy–and as such, no adrenaline spikes and no anxiousness and no utter exhaustion when I finally arrived. It’s nice to be able to relax and listen to a book as I drive through the deep South.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, another piece of coffee cake, and repair to my easy chair to read for a moment before getting cleaned up and my day started. It does look really nice out there; perhaps today I can take a walk around the neighborhood? We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day; may your day be whatever you wish it to be. I’ll be back again on the morrow.

Sexy, yes–but I can’t help but wonder if there are body parts in that bag for some reason.
  1. The fact that MAGA and Fox are pretending that the show isn’t viciously skewering this administration tells me that it’s definitely getting under their skin and scoring direct hits. ↩︎

The Good Stuff

Wednesday morning and how is everything with you, Constant Reader? I can’t complain, but I really didn’t want to get out of the comfort of the warm bed and my pile of blankets this morning. It was so nice and relaxing and comfortable! And when you have your sweet kitty check on you then curl up and cuddle and purr–yeah, who wouldn’t want to stay in bed? Yesterday was an okay day for the most part. I wasn’t tired, and I had help in the clinic, which I don’t today and tomorrow. Heavy sigh. But I’ll manage to power through. I am pretty caught up on my work and current on everything, so I just have to maintain that status through the end of the week. Sigh. It’s so nice to not be exhausted all the time, you know?

The interesting thing about ICE being here with their Gestapo-like tactics and antics is most of what they are doing is focused on the conservative suburbs outside of New Orleans, in Jefferson Parish–mostly in Kenner and Metairie, and they aren’t getting the kind of welcome they would have expected in MAGA territory. This irony–all the MAGAts and racists who were so absolutely delighted that New Orleans, that bastion of crime and danger to white people, was getting ICEd, only to have them focus on the so-called “safe” suburbs when they got here–is almost too delicious to bear. Of course, if people were posting about ICE in Metairie and Kenner, most Americans wouldn’t have a clue where they were talking about, so as always New Orleans is used as shorthand because everyone knows New Orleans (another bitter pill for the suburban racist trash to swallow).

As always, the quote is “Bitch, you live in Metairie.”

I was reminded yesterday that I wrote the introduction to two omnibus collections of gay crime writer’s first three novels, and the two authors were Michael Nava (!!! It was SUCH an honor!) and Michael Craft (both a delightful person and a delightful writer) way back in the early aughts; my first published essays, as it were. I’d completely forgotten about them, and the only reason I remembered was I got a google alert that a used copy of the Nava omnibus had been listed on The Strand’s website. I know I had a copy of each volume (at one point I had copies of all the Violet Classics, or whatever they called that series), because David Rosen at Insightoutbooks (which I miss to this day) sent them to me as a gift. My, that was a long time ago, and I got paid really well for those introductory essays. I was tempted to buy it, even to the point of getting my credit card out of my wallet and…just before I started the purchase process, thought better of it and closed the site. I don’t need to spend money on something I may already have a copy of; if I don’t have it or can’t find it, I can always go looking again for it on-line, of course, so long as I make a note to keep track and don’t forget about them, like I had for like at least fifteen years.

Sigh.

But my coffee is tasty this morning, the apartment is warm and comfortable, and today won’t be anything I can’t handle. I did do the dishes last night and ran the dishwasher before going up to bed, so I am almost caught up on chores other than, you know, keeping it clean as I go (ugh, McDonalds flashback), which will make the weekend easier. Yay! It makes such a difference not being tired every night when I get home from work. I still bond with Sparky when I get home from work (after feeding His Majesty) while I am catching up on the day’s news, but now I don’t get sucked in because I am so tired I don’t want to get back up…and I am motivated, which is even better, you know?

Last night we watched two more episodes of Death by Lightning, which I am enjoying. I love US History (history in general, really) and the murder of President Garfield was another one of those “what if” moments in American history; what kind of president would he have been, and how different would things have turned out had he not died and been succeeded by his vice president, Chester Arthur, is a question we’ll never know the answer to. The show is very well done and very well acted, and we now have just one more episode to finish it off, probably tonight. This period, and this assassination, have really been lost to time–who, outside of historians and history buffs–even remember that Garfield was president in the first place?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning.

We haven‘t had a tree since Skittle died. Skittle would knock off an ornament and walk away. Scooter tried to climb it and eat the power cords. I shudder to think what Sparky would do to one.

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.

All You Ever Do Is Put Me Down

Tuesday morning and I didn’t spring out of bed joyously this morning, but I feel pretty okay this morning. I slept well, just wanted to sleep longer. It rained heavily last night, which was nice–you know I love me some rain when I am safely inside and warm and comfortable. The rain was supposed to bring cold weather with it, but it’s only 51 this morning, which isn’t that terrible. My whole attitude towards cold weather is changing, isn’t it? I didn’t mind the cold in Kentucky–it was bitterly cold on Thanksgiving; my windshield froze over while I was at my sister’s–so what on earth is happening to me? #madness, indeed. Granted, it wasn’t at zero or even close to it; that, methinks, would be an entirely different story.

I did find my copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice last night, and that opening line–“They threw me off the hay truck about noon”–is such a great opening. I think the other noirs I am going to read this month will include The Falling Sparrow by Dorothy B. Hughes1, another Jim Thompson novel (I have several on-hand), a Silvia Moreno-Garcia modern neo-noir, and maybe some short stories, and/or a Cornell Woolrich novel. The well (or TBR pile, you choose) is very deep in the Lost Apartment. I also have to write my reviews of O Jerusalem and Fever Beach for the newsletter, too. Sigh. So much to write, so little time in which to do it all, y’know? But that just means I need to go back to my OCD organization and to-do lists so I can get things done.

I also managed to go over the edits and copy edits of Hurricane Season Hustle, so it is finished for me other than the page proofs. I also got a short story I sent to an anthology a few months ago back with its edits, which is also kind of cool. I always love to sell a short story, you know? I am more confident with my novels than I ever can be with my short stories, and I was thinking last night as I sat in my chair watching The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City that I may try something different when it comes to writing short stories, but I’ll inevitably always fall back on my usual way of doing things. I think we’re going to be busy in the clinic this morning, which will keep me hopping all day. I have to stop again at the store to make some groceries on my way home tonight, and the kitchen is a mess, and I have another load of dishes to unload so I can wash the ones in the sink and run the dishwasher again and the household chores never end, do they? I have measured my life by washing dishes, or something like that.

I was able to leave work early yesterday (Friday was a paid holiday for eight hours; I usually put in about four on a normal work-at-home Friday, so had to shave some time off yesterday. No, I never over-explain, do I?), and so ran by the Fresh Market on the way home and also ordered groceries for delivery. I got home and finished the laundry, put the dishes away and ran another load through the dishwasher. I got caught up on the news and have reached the point where I just shake my head in bewilderment, sadness, and disgust. Heavy heaving sigh. Is there now a light at the the end of the tunnel of horrors? One can only hope, but this dismantling of our institutions and eroding of trust in them has been –and continues to be–nothing more than a disgrace.

Our new LSU football coach, Lane Kiffin, arrived in Baton Rouge yesterday to a cheering crowd at the airport and people lined up along the drive from there to the campus. Controversy about the move continues to swirl, driven by the so-called “talking heads” who know absolutely nothing but somehow think they’re relevant? Dad and I talked about how useless and stupid so many of them are nowadays–“professional bull-shitters,” is what Dad calls them, and accurately–but they have to talk and weave and bullshit in order to earn their ridiculous salaries. I don’t care what you think about this, just as I don’t really care about anything you think, really. And all the unctuous moralizing by trash like Stephen A. Smith and Colin Cowshit and all the rest of the idiots? Spare me. All you are doing is enhancing the victim complex LSU fans and Louisiana residents already have, and they’ll just circle the wagons and it just endears Kiffin to the fans and residents here all the more. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s buddies with Coach O, either. They are billboards and signs all over the state welcoming him.

I do not remember any of that happening for Brian Kelly, mind you.

So, we’ll see how this new era of LSU football will work out for us. Everyone here is excited, as I said, and I am optimistically hopeful but cautious.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for this fine Tuesday morning. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday tomorrow morning.

Pharaoh Thutmose III, successor to the female pharaoh Hatshepsut
  1. Also a book with a fantastic first line. ↩︎

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

Heads Carolina, Tails California

And Saturday has rolled around yet again here in the Lost Apartment. I slept well; didn’t really want to get out from under the pile of blankets, yet here I am, swilling coffee and eating coffee cake. I have some errands to run this morning–library sale, mail, make some groceries–and of course, it’s a college football day. LSU plays tonight, their final home game of the season, against Western Kentucky, but there aren’t a lot of games of interest to me, so I hope I can get a lot done around here while games play on the television. I feel pretty rested this morning, which is a good sign, methinks. I want to read and take notes on works-in-progress, preparatory to doing some actual writing tomorrow. I also got a very good start on cleaning the apartment yesterday, which should be easily finished this morning/afternoon; I don’t clean in the evenings.

I also need to update and revise my to-do list, and update my check register. I also want to work some on my next newsletter entry, too; which probably won’t be sent out until I get back home next weekend. I know from past experience I am not going to get much, if any, writing done while I am in Kentucky; I won’t even really be able to deal with emails much while I am up there. But it’s also a holiday week, so there shouldn’t be much of anything other than Black Friday and Cyber Monday spam. I also remembered that a later released Mary Russell novel by Laurie R. King actually should be read third in the series; O Jerusalem (Laurie herself told me this), so I went ahead and got the audiobook this morning, and will pack the hard copy so I can finish it while I am there (the audiobook is thirteen hours long, which means there should be an hour left when I arrive Tuesday night).

Yesterday was an interesting news day, wasn’t it? I don’t care to speculate about Marjorie Taylor Greene’s resignation from Congress; maybe she’ll try politics again, or being a commentator on cable news, but I don’t really see it. MS NOW (nice rebrand, eye roll) won’t have her, certainly Faux or Newsmax won’t now, so…CNN? It wouldn’t surprise me, to be honest. I prefer to take it at face value because she isn’t very complicated. She was roped in as a true believer; her echo chamber kept reminding her how hard she had to fight against the “deep state;” and when she had to face the brutal reality that the people she so fiercely defended simply used her and didn’t give a shit about anything she thought they did? Her behavior, and her demeanor, is something we’re probably going to have to get used to from former MAGA cultists; its shock and betrayal, and who could blame her?

People never listen, do they?

And the Mamdani visit to the White House? Holy shit. I was so focused on the Greene resignation and the Mamdani visit I have no idea what else went on in the news yesterday, but this morning on social media I’m seeing that vengeance criminal prosecutions also blew up in MAGA faces? I know the Comey prosecution is most likely going to end with Lindsay Halligan and Pam Bondi being rightfully disbarred (remember, Nixon didn’t go to jail but his Attorney General did); but I am going to have to look at some news websites to see what I may have missed. I also know New Orleans is preparing to handle the ICE invasion, which isn’t going to go well for them. Pity. Thoughts and prayers, fascists.

And I do mean that sincerely, bless their little hearts.

I ordered Christmas presents for my supervisor, Dad, and Paul; and just got the notice that they are being shipped, and will most likely arrive while I am gone. Look at me, being all prepared before the season even gets underway! Maybe I’ll send Christmas cards this year…one never knows, does one?

And on that note, I am going to take my coffee over to my easy chair and read some more of my Donna Andrews mystery. I’ll be back in the morning, though, so have a lovely day and I shall see you then.

Carlos Alcaraz, tennis star from Spain, is just adorable.

Don’t Think I Don’t Think About It

How is it Wednesday Pay the Bills Day again already? Sheesh!

But yes, I know being able to pay them is a very good thing, but I still resent the money spent.

Yesterday was an odd day, really. I worked by myself in the clinic, and of course–since I had help Monday, over half were no-shows, but everyone came the day I was by myself! Naturally, isn’t that how it always goes? I don’t think we’re nearly as busy today, but I was highly productive at work yesterday, which was awesome. I felt good all day, actually, and when I got home I actually did shit. I did the dishes and several loads of laundry, I made dinner (so the sink is full again), and I even wrote for a little (very little) while, but more on that later. After we ate dinner, we started watching Malice on Prime, which is rather chilling; the “manny from hell” is the plot, and its also very well cast. Jack Whitehall is appropriately creepy as the manny (actually a tutor), with David Duchovny and Clarice van Houten as the wealthy couple he has targeted…although we don’t know why or what he is up to so far. Tonight after work I have to run an errand; I need to make a side dish for our office potluck tomorrow so I need to get the ingredients. I really don’t want to make what I promised to make (my spicy mac ‘n’ cheese), but there is naught to do but do so, methinks. If I make it when I first get home, then I can write or relax or do whatever the hell I want to after. I also slept deeply and well last night, so I feel very awake and rested today.

I was a bit surprised to see the numbers on the votes to release the Epstein files yesterday–and let’s face it, the landslide it turned out to be made me suspicious. After all the shenanigans and lies of this past year, now they are listening to the anger of their constituents? Then again, he honestly believes he could shoot someone and not lose any support, so there’s also that aspect of it; and to his credit, how much spinning have we seen in the last week or so from the right, parsing what technically is or isn’t pedophilia? This should be the complete and final death knell for those Moms for Liberty skanks…hard to push that drag queens, trans women, and other queers are the groomers and pedophiles when you vote for and support actual pedophiles. But it has never been about protecting children, has it? No, that was simply their cover to go after a minority population they don’t like.

And using it as a wedge issue. How’d that work out for you, bitches?

And of course, the only elected official in Congress to vote against releasing the Epstein files was Louisiana’s own garbage human, Clay Higgins. Higgins is– even for a state that produced garbage politicians like our current governor, Steve Scalise, John Kennedy, Bill Cassidy, and Liz Murrill, amongst the other trash we seem to elect all the time–pretty remarkably horrible. He had to resign in disgrace from the St. Landry Parish sheriff’s office for being, well, horrible; is constantly posting racist garbage on-line; is also ethically challenged; and was sued by his ex-wife for back child support in the amount of $14,000.

And he’ll probably be reelected next year despite providing cover for the biggest and most notorious pedophile ring in history. I mean, even Steve Scalise voted for their release. SCALISE!

Electing a Black president who gave them health care really made racist Louisiana voters lose their fucking minds.

Endymion announced yesterday who the musical entertainment at their ball this coming Carnival will be, and you couldn’t pay me enough to attend; I actually feel bad for those who go to the Endymion Ball and will have to sit through performances by the trash they booked, aka Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. Yuck, yuck, a thousand times yuck. At least their grand marshal will be Livvy Dunne, the former LSU gymnast and Instagram star. I literally can’t with Endymion. I guess Kid Rock and/or Jason Aldean weren’t available? What next, Endymion? Confederate flag throws?

Sigh.

I did work on “A Holler Full of Kudzu” last night; which I actually enjoyed doing and I also renamed the novella “Kudzu Jesus,” which feels like a much better title (although I still like that original one), since the story does involve religion in small town rural Alabama in the 1970s a bit. (I came up with this title when someone posted some pictures of kudzu vines on energy and/or telephone poles, which can sometimes look like Christ on the cross, hence Kudzu Jesus. I don’t know why I keep coming back to this story rather than working on Chlorine, but I think primarily that’s because of the trip next week and the potential for losing momentum by taking that break. Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize! But that’s what I am interested in working on right now, so that’s what I am doing.

And on that note, it’s time for me to hit the spice mines again. Have a great Hump Day Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow.

Now, those are some mighty legs…

Dust in a Baggie

Tuesday morning and here we are, about to head into the spice mines again. Yesterday was a weird day; I felt okay and rested in the morning and had no problem with getting up; but once I was at work I felt kind of tired, and after lunch, I was also kind of stomach-achey. No distress, no issues, nothing like when I was sick in the spring, but it was kind of uncomfortable and unpleasant, nevertheless; I think maybe because I didn’t eat dinner on Sunday and maybe over-stretched it with breakfast and lunch. I don’t know, I am grasping at any straw that doesn’t signal relapse.

Especially before I take a long driving trip, you know?

Heavy heaving sigh. So, like I said, my ass was dragging last night when I got off from work. I stopped and made a bit of groceries on the way home–nothing much, mind you, but wanting to take advantage of a sale that ends Wednesday to stock up on Paul’s diet Cokes–and was really dragging by the time I got home from that. Sparky was more than happy to nap in my lap (after being fed, natch), so what else could I do but provide a lap for my kitty to sleep in? I got caught up on the news (yeesh) and when Paul got home, we finished Lazarus–very interesting end to the season, I must say–and then I went to bed. I slept pretty well, but this morning I am still a bit worn down. We’re going to be super-busy in the clinic again, and I am by myself today yet again. It really is little wonder that I am too tired to do much when I get home, isn’t it? But the apartment is sliding into mess again, so hopefully I’ll have the energy tonight to do some cleaning and the dishes, which are stacking up yet again. Heavy heaving sigh. I’ll have to resist Sparky’s nap/lap wiles when I get home tonight–at least at first.

I didn’t even read last night, I was so tired.

I do think I slept better last night than I did on Sunday night, though, so I have pretty good hopes for the day. I think it’s a good idea to have hopes and expectations for the day, rather than going into it feeling miserable and just wanting to get it all over with, you know? Or is my morning coffee simply starting to kick in? It’s a mystery! I think tonight we’re going to start watching that new Emma Thompson series; it certainly looks interesting, and I have always loved Emma Thompson in any and everything1; so a suspense series with her is right up my alley. I also want to see that new Alan Ritchson movie, with Kevin James, Playdate. The previews look hilarious, and, well, you know. Alan Ritchson. (Who went to high school with Matt Gaetz and hates him–just another reason to love Ritchson, really.)

I saw an interesting take on Marjorie Taylor Greene’s break with Trump yesterday–in which the commentator said they think she’s sincere and a true believer, and the way she’s been acting these past few weeks has been consistent with someone having their belief system blown up in their face. I will add, though, that she is intensely ambitious, and her disappointment in not getting Trump’s approval or endorsement for a Senate run was probably the first domino to fall there. I think she’s getting ahead of the MAGA crash, and positioning herself to be a party leader…much more so than either of the three others who signed the discharge petition. (Although Nancy Mace wants to be governor of South Carolina, but I have no idea if Boebert or Massie have further ambitions, either.) It’s also been interesting seeing the trash that have been calling queer people and drag queens groomers and pedophiles for the last–well, forever–circling the wagons around their pedo leader and cover-up.

As we said all along, it was never about the children. It’s never about the children with the Right, just like it’s never about helping unwanted babies negotiate life, either.

So delighted no one would ever listen to the queers, you know? I wish I had a dollar for every straight white asshole (sadly, mostly women) who told us to calm down in 2016 and 2024–something I personally never said about abortion rights. Who’s the real shitty ally? Hmm?

So tiresome and predictable–and is there anything more infuriating than being condescended to?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines where I can ignore the country burning to the ground for a while–at least until I get off work. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back bright and early tomorrow.

The temple of Pharaoh Hatshepsut–the most famous woman ruler of ancient Egypt
  1. My favorite performance of hers remains Dead Again, which I should rewatch. It doesn’t get nearly as much attention as it deserves. ↩︎