Tag: friday the 13th the series

Cupid/I’ve Loved You For a Long Time

My, what a gorgeous day it was yesterday–the kind that reminds me why I love it here so much and helps me forget the horror that is July-August (although I believe the summer horror began in late May this year). I made groceries in the morning and also retrieved everything from the carriage house to put in the new refrigerator; it’s lovely. I hadn’t realized what a pain in the ass it was making do with the shitty old one. I didn’t get all that filing worked on, but I did make some material progress that will help get me started working on it all again this week. I have more appointments this week–primary care doctor on Wednesday afternoon, and I have to actually go into the office on Friday for a benefits meeting. Our insurance is changing to a new carrier in the new year, which is why it was so important for me to get all this medical shit out of the way while I still have insurance that will take care of everything, or at least I understand how it operates. I absolutely hate the idea that I will have to relearn all my insurance stuff again in the new year.

It makes me tired.

I slept well today, and don’t have to go into the office at all. We’re having a “professional development day”, which starts at City Park at ten this morning and goes all day, from place to place–we go to Dillard University and later to Ralph’s on the Park–before coming home at six pm. Tomorrow goes back to normal. I didn’t want to get up this morning–Tug also wanted me to stay in bed; he followed me downstairs and is sleeping in my lap while I am typing this (Paul has started calling him Sparky, which kinds of fits…) but is also very sweet. He spent most of yesterday either chasing the laser light, playing with an old catnip toy of Scooter’s (catnip didn’t affect Scooter; Tug/Sparky is an entirely different story), or sleeping in my lap. I spent most of the day in my chair finishing Elizabeth Hand’s marvelous A Haunting on the Hill, which I will talk about in more detail in another entry. I also started reading Rival Queens as my new non-fiction read; it’s about Catherine de Medici and her daughter Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre (aka Queen Margot) and of course, this is one of my favorite periods of history and two of my favorite, most interesting sixteenth century queens; Catherine de Medici is fascinating. A version of Game of Thrones played out in France between 1559 and 1594, and I’m always kind of amazed that it’s not written about more–but Americans are always more interested in English history, if they have any interest in history at all.

It’s a pity, because I’ve always found French history more interesting.

While I was reading A Haunting on the Hill yesterday an old idea of mine–a sort of sideways sequel to Bury Me in Shadows started developing in my mind; another Corinth County novel, only this time with Beau, Jake’s boyfriend from the University of Alabama and an archaeology/Alabama history major, as the main character. I’ve had this idea for a short story for a very long time–set in Corinth County–called “Children of the Stone Circle”, which I think I may have even written an entire first draft a long time ago; just could never tell how to make it work and make it real. It came to me while reading the Elizabeth Hand–I always get inspired when I read books that are well-written that I enjoy–and I made copious notes in my journal. That felt good–it felt good to power down my brain for most of the weekend and kind of relax. I am delighted to have finished the Hand–and for reasons that I will explain when I write about the book, I decided the reread of The Haunting of Hill House–which I still want to do–wasn’t a necessary follow up to the Hand. I am going to read Angel Luis Colon’s Infested next, and perhaps some more y/a middle-grade horror. I do want to reread King’s The Dead Zone, too; it’s been quite a while.

I also watched another episode of Moonlighting last night, which I am really enjoying the rewatch of. There were some cultural references to the time that don’t work–last night’s episode had Addison make a reference to a highly popular ad campaign that was already over but still very much a part of the zeitgeist when the show started–but overall, it’s still a great show. Cybill Shepherd was just stunningly beautiful, and she made a great straight man character for Willis to bounce his antics and humor off, and the chemistry between the two of them was simply off the charts. I had also forgotten how utterly charming the character of Miss DiPesto (“My name’s Agnes, but my friends call me Miss DiPesto”) as played by Allyce Beasley was; I was already a fan of hers when the show started because of her turn in one of the best episodes of Cheers, where she played Coach’s daughter.

“But Gregalicious, I thought you were rewatching Friday the 13th the Series this month in honor of Halloween?” I was, but the episodes are on Youtube, the quality of some are terrible (they were clearly uploaded and digitized from old VCR recordings, and for those of us who remember using VCR’s, we also still remember how bad some of those recordings were–especially when you were re-using cassettes) and it became annoying, and then Moonlighting dropped. So yes, I am not devoting myself to all things horror this month the way I had intended to, and no, I’ve not been taking the walks every night like I wanted to when the weather turned. Partly because I am tired when I get home every night from work, and partly because Tug/Sparky needs attention when I walk through the door and I am more than willing to give the adorable little kitty whatever he wants. He fell asleep in my lap yesterday once while still sitting up–his head was still up, not resting on anything, and he was sound asleep, which I’ve never seen anyone or anything do before.

And when he gets comfortable and is deep in dreamland, he sprawls in the most adorable ways. He also was happy in his sleep at one point, too–he started making biscuits on the arm of my easy chair while purring, but was sound asleep.

Yes, he’s adorable and yes, he is now master of the apartment.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I will see you later.

Biggest Part of Me

Well, I am not going to get my dentures until Monday; they just called and the dentist isn’t in today, so I can’t get them until Monday morning, which makes this weekend a bit more difficult–sigh, eating will be a bit of a challenge for me this weekend in Panama City Beach, but at least I get them Monday morning–which means I can get groceries and start eating normally again on Monday; which is fantastic and makes me incredibly happy. I think I can probably chew if I take the uppers out, but I hardly would want to be doing that in public. But Monday I can eat normally again, although I still have a lot of the softer food to get rid of without wasting. I’ve actually liked some of these options I’ve adapted to–who knew hot and spicy ramen would be so fucking good?–and I will miss the ice cream of course, but I didn’t really lose a lot of weight while on this diet (my body always adjusts very quickly) but I am hopeful that will become more of a reality for me (actual weight loss) once the teeth are done and the surgeries are over and I’ve recovered. The weather has become cool enough for me to take walks when I get home from work; I’ve just been so focused on bonding with li’l Tug that I’ve not really made use of the time as productively as perhaps I should have.

Tug is becoming more and more at home, and showing more and more Big Kitten Energy every day. When I got home from work there was a trail of…well, I won’t say destruction because that wasn’t what I found; but there was a lot more stuff on the floor when I got home than was there when I had left. Last night he slept a lot in my lap, but then would get the “wanna play!” zoomies, where he was running around knocking things off and playing with everything and chasing things. I read some more of Riley Sager’s Final Girls, which is quite interesting and holding my attention, and then switched over to some Youtube videos. I watched another old episode of Friday the 13th the Series, which is fun, as always; it also occurred to me that I’ve basically given a sort of the same set-up backstory to A Streetcar Named Murder that the show had; my main character inherited an antique shop from an old uncle of her husband’s she didn’t know, the first case involved an item from the store, etc. etc. etc. (I just last night put that together–there truly are no new stories under the sun, are there? This is what I mean when I say things like I have so many influences I can’t possibly list or remember them all–pretty much anything I’ve ever read and any movie/television show I’ve seen has influenced me in some way.) Paul had a meeting last night so he wasn’t home before I started falling asleep in my easy chair; Tug and I repaired to bed before Paul got home around ten and I slept until eight this morning; ten hours! That never happens, Constant Reader, and it felt great. I feel very rested and relaxed this morning before I dive into my work-at-home duties, of which there are quite a bit today. I also have some errands to run late this afternoon after work, and of course tomorrow mornign I have to get up early and get the oil changed–which means more of the Riley Sager. I’m also a little excited to listen to Stephen Graham Jones’ The Only Good Indians on the way over and back, and I want to finish the Sager this weekend so I can reread The Haunting of Hill House and The Dead Zone before moving on to Elizabeth Hand’s A Hanunting on the Hill–although I’ll reread the King before the Jackson, because it just makes more sense to pair the Jackson with Hand’s retelling of the same tale, doesn’t it?

The switch from blast-furnace summer heat to the coolness (relatively speaking) of fall has been wonderful, and I hope my Entergy bill reflects the cooling of the weather. The kitchen is a mess, as always on Friday mornings, so of course I have some things to do around here before I get started on my work-at-home chores or do some writing or reading or whatever I need to get done here around the house. The new season of Our Flag Means Death dropped last night, as well as other new episodes of our shows (Ahsoka, Only Murders in the Building, among others) and we also want to start The Changeling, based on Victor Lavalle’s superb novel.

So I am hoping for nice productive day at home. I feel rested and relaxed–always a plus–and maybe not as motivated as I would like, but hey, that’s on me and the coffee I have yet to finish consuming. I’m going to finish off my morning with a cup of cacao, because I am trying to get used to it and it would be great to wean myself entirely off coffee, but the cacao is taking some getting used to–it doesn’t really have the bitter bite of coffee, which is the part of the taste I prefer. Cacao is more like unsweetened hot chocolate–and it’s probably the real chocolate taste, as opposed to the insanely sweetened version Americans are used to. I’ll have to get up early tomorrow to get the oil changed in the car–since I’ll be on the West Bank, I should probably go ahead and grocery shop while I’m over there, and then I won’t have to worry about it when I get back on Sunday night, which does make the most sense.

And so, on a more cheery note than usual lately, I am going to take this chance to head into the spice mines. I may be back before tomorrow morning’s before the oil change at the crack of dawn, but one never can be sure. At any rate, have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll talk to you again soon.

Vegas High

Thursday morning and the bills are paid. Huzzah? But this afternoon I have to leave early to go to the cardiologist–I need to get cleared for the surgery because of my advanced age–and then Friday morning it’s off to the dentist AND WE’RE GETTING A CAT!!! (I may be a tad bit excited about getting a cat. This cat is going to be so loved and spoiled…) I was tired again yesterday when I got home from work, but I did manage to do some laundry and write. I finished the first chapter of yet another book, and will probably continue to futz around with both of these for a little while longer. It’s always important for me to get the first few chapters on a firm footing before moving on to the rest. I’m not sure why that is, to be honest, but it’s true. It’s impossible for me to move on and get deeper into a manuscript until I am confident in the first five chapters; sometimes less. I always forget this whenever I am working on new projects, and then spiral into self-doubt and imposter syndrome…aka anxiety. I have to say, this is so nice and different, such a lovelier way to live. My sleep is improving, my creativity is flourishing, I am being productive–and it’s okay to choose writing over reading, much as I love to read. I will finish my current book this week and this weekend I will start my Halloween Horror Month reading/film festival/television rewatches.

I’ve actually kind of started that already; I’ve been watching those Dark Shadows episodes. The story behind The Haunting of Collinwood is interesting enough; two doomed spirits from the past using the two children at Collinwood to enact vengeance on the Collins family, and everyone slowly comes to realize something is wrong with the children and something strange is going on. The funniest part, to me, is Elizabeth Stoddard, the matriarch played by old Hollywood star Joan Bennett, kept insisting there are no such things as ghosts and witches and so on–was this an ongoing thing for the character of Elizabeth, with every new supernatural storyline? Girl, where do you live?

I’ve also got those Friday the 13th the Series episodes to watch on Youtube. Horror has had a strong influence on my writing, and it’s something I enjoy and have a deep respect for as a genre. I am hardly expert in the field at all, and I try my hand at it here and there now and again with short stories or the occasional book. But I don’t write scary stuff–I like to write creepy suspense, with the tension and fear and adrenaline rising for the reader along with the characters in the story. My stuff is more about atmosphere itself than the supernatural events, which I rarely try to explain–there’s never a handy “expert” in any of my work to explain things to the characters, who are kind of on their own and can’t be sure they understand it themselves. As I said once in an interview, “Shirley Jackson never explained, and neither did Daphne du Maurier.”

Needless to say, Jackson and du Maurier are two of my biggest influences, I think.

OH! I should reread The Haunting of Hill House. It’s been a minute. And definitely “Don’t Look Now.”

Paul got home in time for us to watch this week’s The Morning Show, and it kind of begs the question: why is the fact that Reese Witherspoon is playing at least a bisexual woman in a relationship with Julianna Margulies not being talked about more? Have we reached the point where we’ve grown blasé about queer rep in mainstream-targeted television shows? Then again, that’s a good place to be–if no one is complaining and we no longer have to champion it? It’s a really good show, and as tired as I am of Jennifer Aniston and her even more tired old straight white lady shtick about cancel culture (“Friends couldn’t air today!” You say that like it’s a bad thing, Jen.), she is quite good in the show. I also approve the addition of Jon Hamm as Elon Musk, er, a Musk-like billionaire buying their network and also as a potential love interest. I also find it interesting that the two female leads–powerful and successful women in the news business–have male first names: Alex and Bradley.

So, hopefully by this afternoon the cardiologist will have cleared me for the surgery next month and I will know if I have the same congenital heart defect my mother had; there’s some question as to whether it’s genetic or not; she made it to eighty, but her father died in his sleep in his mid-forties; her brother also had heart issues and multiple surgeries before he passed. I have to say I have been exceptionally lucky for most of my life; I’ve never had a surgery other than tonsil removal as a child and tooth removal.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back soon.

Come In With The Rain

And just like that, we somehow made it to Friday yet again. Good for us all! Seriously, at this point survival is about all we can hope for these days–what with the world aflame, all the hatred and divisiveness in our society and culture, a pandemic, and all this economic uncertainty. I’ve noticed on social media a tendency for people to be hesitant about terrific things that are happening for them, whether personal or professional or both, and to them I say shout it out from the rooftops! We all need to find some joy in this life and world these days, and for heaven’s sakes, don’t feel guilty because good things are happening for you during tough times!

And anyone who looks at your good news and finds it inappropriate or whatever–really should take a long, hard look at themselves and their values, because if you have reached a point in your life where you cannot be happy for other people’s good news….maybe you shouldn’t be on social media at all and need to withdraw to heal yourself for a while.

I’ll take any joy or happiness I can find anywhere in this year 2020.

We all should, frankly.

Wednesday I saw a notice on social media–link, post, whatever–about a television reboot of the old Burt Reynolds/Sally Field film Smokey and the Bandit, which was the second biggest money-making film of 1977 (behind Star Wars). I can’t imagine this happening, to be honest; Burt Reynolds and Jackie Gleason were fairly definitive, and if we’ve learned anything from the Adam Sandler remake of The Longest Yard, Burt Reynolds is kind of hard to replace. Smokey and the Bandit was a surprising hit–I don’t think anyone involved thought it was going to be as huge as it was–and it was fairly definitive of my senior year. We only had two movie theaters in Emporia, Kansas–one was the Twin Cinema, with two screens, which showed new releases (albeit months behind their arrival in major cities and markets; Star Wars opened in June but didn’t get there until August) and another, old classic theater style place, the Granada; one of those wonderful old movie theaters with the marquee that came out over the sidewalk. It was primarily used for art films and special occasion films and things like that; midnight showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, that sort of thing. Anyway, Smokey and the Bandit opened at the Twin the weekend before Star Wars, and both stayed for months, rather limiting teenage high school weekend dating options for kids in town and from the rural surrounding counties. I think I saw each of them about eight times each, at a minimum; there was literally nothing else to do. (There was also a late, after prom showing of Smokey the following spring, which, of course, my date and I attended because I clearly hadn’t seen the movie enough times.) I never saw any of the sequels, primarily because I was so burned out on the movie after my senior year; I rewatched it recently–several months ago, I think–and it was kind of a weird time capsule. Burt Reynolds was the sex symbol of the 1970’s for women–he never really did much for me, but I always conceded he was incredibly charismatic and probably a lot more talented than anyone gave him credit for–the open shirts, revealing a thick mane of chest hair; the mustache; the tight jeans; the big warm inviting smile that, whether he actually meant it or not, indicated a sly amusement at life and the world in general. It also reminded me that back in the day sales of Coors beer was illegal east of the Mississippi; that illegality was the driving force of the film’s plot. (Whenever we drove from Kansas to Alabama for our annual visit to the relatives and home, we always ‘smuggled’ cases of Coors for relatives–who primarily only wanted it because they didn’t have access to it.) Everyone drank Coors in Kansas; it was usually the beer on tap in bars, and there was never any question about, when making a beer run, what beer you’d get. I used to drink Coors all the time, and thinking about Coors reminded me that Coors was the first business I ever boycotted because of an anti-gay stance. I don’t exactly remember what it was–I think Colorado passed a horrific anti-gay law; Coors helped bankroll it; and the company itself was deeply homophobic. I stopped drinking Coors and have never had it since–even though Colorado has long since stopped being the ‘hate state’ and Coors may have even apologized and become more gay-friendly; I don’t know, I don’t remember, and I don’t drink beer at all anymore so it really no longer matters anyway. But boycotting Coors was my first-ever personal activism against homophobia, and thus kind of a step in my own growth and acceptance of who I am.

Wow, I really digressed there, didn’t I? Anyway, Smokey and the Bandit actually fits into the Cynical 70’s Film Festival because it is, after all, essentially a “fuck the law” comedy; if ever a spirit inhabited films of the 1970’s if was definitely fuck the law. The movie is about bootlegging, essentially; smuggling beer illegally across country, while breaking all speeding laws along the way–including being chased, and evading, the police. There’s actually an essay in there somewhere…it was also a time when CB radios were enormously popular, or at least they were in Kansas. Practically everyone had one in their car or truck (we didn’t) and I was always amazed that anyone could understand anything being said; whenever I was in a car with a CB and the driver would talk on it, I could never understand what was being said in answer over the radio.

Maybe that was the first sign of my hearing issues. It’s certainly the first time in my life I remember not being able to comprehend what I was hearing.

My lovely Apple adapter arrived yesterday and yes, it works and yes, I can now access my back-up hard drive again…which makes me so incredibly happy, Constant Reader, you have no idea. I feel settled again, if that makes sense, and now everything at my home work station is back the way it was, even if the screen is tiny and I keep getting annoying messages about my memory being depleted. But I can now make an appointment to take it in and have them look at it, and tell me what I need to do–or do it with an on-line Apple rep–and now all feels right in Gregalicious-world again. I also picked up my library books–Montgomery Clift: Queer Star and Confidential Confidential: The Inside Story of Hollywood’s Most Notorious Scandal Magazine–both of which are research for Chlorine.

Quite marvelous, really.

While making condom packs yesterday, I watched the original Fright Night for the first time. It may have been good when it was released, but it really hasn’t aged well–despite a clever concept. Chris Sarandon is great as the vampire next door, and Roddy McDowell as the horror actor/vampire hunter is terrific (despite some bad aging make-up; but in fairness, Roddy McDowell was good in everything), but everyone else is….meh. I was interested to see Amanda Bearse playing the female lead/love interest/reincarnation of the vampire’s old love (shades of Dark Shadows!); she was fresh off her role as Amanda, Liza Colby’s sidekick on All My Children, and years away from coming out as a lesbian. But yeah, it doesn’t hold up. I am wondering if that was why it was remade in 2011? But I’m not going to bother with watching the remake. Also–weirdly enough, in looking up information on the film, one of the supporting actors, playing the character of Evil, apparently went on to be in gay porn…an interesting career choice.

I also discovered full episodes of the syndicated Friday the 13th–the series on Youtube; the first season used to be on Amazon Prime but was unceremoniously yanked before I could finish rewatching. Back when the show was airing in the 1980’s it was great fun–Ryan and Mickey inherit an antique shop from their long lost uncle Lewis Vendredi; only then his old friend Jack Marshak shows up, tells them Lewis made a deal with the devil and everything in the shop was cursed–and they need to get every object back. It’s a great idea for a horror anthology series. It ran for three seasons and yes, it’s clearly made on a low-budget in the 1980’s, but it’s entertaining enough and I watched the first two episodes while finishing the condom packs yesterday.

Today I have to focus and get things done. When I was finished with work yesterday, Paul also finished with work and came downstairs, and we started watching another series on Apple Plus, Servant, directed by M. Night Shyamalan, and it’s creepy and weird and dark and interesting and we definitely were sucked in. It’s plot is kind of complicated and weird–but essentially a nanny with a lot of secrets comes to work for a couple who also have a lot of secrets…and each secret as it is revealed is an eye-opener and changes the story almost completely; Lauren Ambrose is extraordinary as the mom/newscaster/wife. It apparently aired the first season last year; the second season is coming in December. It’s weird and off-putting and perfect for October viewing, really.

And on that note, best to get to work. May your Friday be marvelous and wonderful.

I Think I Love You

The 1980’s were an interesting time. The decade is sort of a blur for me in some ways–there was a lot of pot smoking and alcohol abuse and of course, the cocaine issue–but I also had fun, or so it seemed at the time. I sometimes wonder, when I am given to reflect on the past (something I seem to be doing more and more as I age) how different my life would be had I not, in fact, been living a double life in my twenties. But of course, these are the sort of things that are immaterial ultimately; if any single one thing in my past had been different, my life as I know it now would be different, and I am enormously happy with my present life. And I do remember that period of my life fondly; I remember going, many times, into a marijuana induced coma with friends while we watched endless hours of MTV, back when it used to actually show music videos.

Another popular show that we watched through the smoke was a syndicated series called Friday the 13th–the Series.

friday-the-13th-series

Every episode of the show began with a voice over:

“Lewis Vendredi made a deal with the devil to sell cursed antiques. But he broke the pact, and it cost him his soul. Now, his niece Micki, and her cousin Ryan have inherited the store… and with it, the curse. Now they must get everything back, and the real terror begins.” 

Part of the problem, you see, was originally Micki and Ryan decided not to keep the store and had a big sale to get rid of everything inside. Then Jack Marshak, an expert in the occult, showed up and told them about Uncle Lewis’ deal with the devil and that every item in the store was cursed. In the first episode, they didn’t believe him, of course, until they started tracking down one of the items. Each cursed item had some kind of power related to what it was; a Cupid had the ability to make anyone fall in love with the person who owned it, for example. The problem was the blood curse on every item–in exchange for the use of the item’s power, the person using it had to kill someone, or the item itself would kill someone. The show followed the three–Jack, Micki, and Ryan–as they tried to track down each item.

friday13th

The reason I even discovered the show in the first place was because one of my friends thought Robey, the actress who played Micki, was hot.

robey_louise_250

She almost always wore white cotton tank tops without a bra, in typical 80’s exploitation.

3-robey-and-ryan

She also had a bad case of serious 80’s hair.

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But it was a clever idea for an anthology/horror/supernatural style series, and it last three seasons. I kind of got sucked into it, and still remember it fondly. It was syndicated, so it was much lower budget than it would have been had it aired on a network. It was available for streaming on Amazon Prime recently, and the last time I was doing cardio I was rewatching….alas, for my month of horror, it’s no longer available. Rewatching made me realize just how low budget the show actually was; but it would be a great thing to reboot for the modern audience.

And now, back to the spice mines.