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 havent 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.

I Take a Lot of Pride in What I Am

So, this is another Monday in one of the last weeks of 2025. I slept well, and only hit snooze twice, which was unusual. I feel rested and good this morning, which is absolutely delightful. I didn’t get all my chores done over the weekend, so I’ll have to put away dishes and so forth when I get home from work this evening. I also have some dishes to wash and put through the dishwasher, too. Yesterday was a nice, lovely, relaxing day. I finished watching The American Revolution and New Orleans Soul of a City (the last one was about the Saints and the Superdome–so the series was food, music, Carnival, and the Saints; pretty much the soul of New Orleans). The college football play-off seedings were released, to the anger of several fan bases, and LSU is going to the Texas Bowl to play Houston in Houston. We also watched The Roses, which was interesting. I also spent a lot of time scanning journal pages into my computer so I can get all my notes over the years on Chlorine easily accessible and in one place. It’s chilly this morning, but the rest of the week (I think) will have highs in the 1970s.

ICE is here, sweeping the city with a goal of five thousand “criminals” to deport from the New Orleans area–and they are doing it so far with all the skill, efficiency, and Constitutional adherence they’ve shown everywhere else they’ve invaded with their Gestapo tactics. The reports so far seem to have netted only thirty-eight arrests, a third of whom had criminal records (odds they’ll be here through Carnival?), and they seem to have primarily focused on the immigrant community in Kenner, the suburb with the airport and the last one before you hit swamp heading west on I-10. A friendly reminder, that always needs to be mentioned, that immigrants rebuilt the city after Katrina. That’s why New Orleans was a sanctuary city: gratitude, which always seems to be in such short supply in the American psyche. I’ve been blocking the racist trash from the outer parishes and “metro area” who always claim to be from New Orleans but never are, who show up with their hateful bullshit on social media. I drove one bitch all the way off Threads recently, who pulled the I live in New Orleans which then became I’m from New Orleans to I was born in New Orleans but a quick search of her social media (wide open, I might add) showed she actually lives in ALABAMA, like the lying piece of racist trash she was, and that her husband worked for a government contractor. When I asked her how her husband’s employer would react to her being a racist lying piece of shit on-line, POOF. She was gone.

Keep New Orleans out of your disgusting, filthy, lying racist-ass mouths–and if you’re going to be such a troll on-line, don’t use your real name and leave all of your social media open. They’re rarely smart, you know?

And for the record, racist skanks in the burbs, New Orleans has always had crime; it’s a port fucking city. The history of this city is drenched in blood spilled by violence. Y’all fled the city after integration. Fuck ALL the way off.

Nothing makes my blood boil more than non-New Orleanians complaining about New Orleans. Begone! You have no power here!

But as always, going through the journals to scan my notes from Chlorine (I actually found the very first time I wrote the idea down, which was kind of cool) was revelatory; I really need to go through my journals more regularly to remind myself what is in there. There are some terrific ideas for short stories and essays in there, as well as notes on multiple projects that are still unfinished. As I was saying yesterday, my journals are far more informative about my writing process than anything in the files, so I think one of my projects for the rest of December is to ditch a lot of my files and get everything compressed into the filing cabinet. I also need to prune the books some more, and start clearing out the storage attic, and take everything off the tops of the kitchen cabinets (I literally have boxes of books everywhere).

And then there’s that moment when Carl Hiaasen shares your newsletter post reviewing hid book Fever Beach–yes, I still fanboy all the time. Eeee! (And it’s getting lots of likes and shares, which is really cool and was never the point of the review!)

And so, without anymore delays, I am heading into the spice mines this morning. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Tuesday morning!

The river parishes light bonfires on the levees to direct Papa Noel, an incredibly cool Louisiana tradition. They feature prominently in Ellen Byron’s mystery A Cajun Country Christmas.

You Never Even Called Me By My Name

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

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

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

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

Sigh. The times in which we live.

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

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.

Long Violent History

Work at home Friday, with all kinds of stuff to get done today before I head out this afternoon for some medical appointments; maintenance checks, more than anything else and nothing serious. I was very tired at the end of my work day yesterday, but had to run an errand on my way home. By the time I got home my brain was fried and my hip joints were aching–they are again this morning as I swill my coffee and wait for my meeting this morning while doing data entry. I did not do a single chore last night when I got home, more’s the pity, so I am going to need to do those today and get this place straightened up and cleaned up. Heavy sigh. I didn’t do a whole hell of a lot last night other than watch the news and watch some research videos on Youtube. The coffee is kicking in now, and Sparky let me sleep a little while longer this morning, which was also kind of nice. I don’t think I’m going to leave the house today; I need to drop books off at the library sale tomorrow, so I might as well go get the mail and make groceries for the weekend then, right?

As the world continues to burn thanks to our grifting, greedy and soulless leadership in Washington, I must say the administration and the rest of the Epstein class (someone defined the super-rich this way on-line; I wish I could remember who it was to give proper credit, my apologies) are certainly doing their best to bring on the angry, violent mobs who’ll drag them to a guillotine on the mall after sacking the Capital and the White House. Remember, it’s not the left side of the equation in this country who resorts to violence; it’s his own base, whom he keeps pissing on every day, almost daring them to turn on him. I don’t know how so many people were conned, especially when he told them, throughout the campaign, that he didn’t care about them, he just needed their votes–and their arrogant smugness has certainly come back around and kicked them in the balls, hasn’t it? Thoughts and prayers, trash. I have as much sympathy for you, as you had for immigrants in 2024. I wouldn’t let any of you suck my dick if you were suffocating and there was oxygen in my balls.

I am also highly amused to see their precious Second Amendment and stand-your-ground and open carry laws blowing up in ICE’s fucking faces in North Carolina. The Right, always so arrogant in their firm belief that they are the real patriots and vox populi and that God is on their side, have convinced themselves over decades that the left, wanting common-sense gun laws, hate guns and don’t own any and don’t shoot. Let me introduce you stupid fucks to the deep South, where everyone is armed, pretty much has a room full of guns in their homes, and there are open-carry and stand your ground laws. Those also apply to the government, and if you think you’re going on private property to arrest immigrants you’re going to be run off with guns. After all, hasn’t their entire argument for unfettered and unlimited gun access always been that we need guns in order to defend ourselves against the encroachment of the federal government? And they are surprised that people are using their Second Amendment rights to prevent the feds from overreaching and attacking their neighbors?

And remember, there was a massive influx of Latino/Hispanic immigrants to New Orleans in the wake of Katrina to rebuild the city. Without them, who knows how long it would have taken for New Orleans to be a viable city again? New Orleans doesn’t consider itself to be part of Louisiana, you think we consider the Feds our overlords? Again, let me remind you that 83% of the New Orleans vote went to Harris/Walz, and the same went for Biden, and Hillary before them. Trump’s only friends in New Orleans are the super rich and the Archdiocese (which has also been covering up child rape for decades), and they aren’t going out there to stop protests and anti-ICE activity. Of course, our mayor is a lame duck and has been a grifting useless piece of shit for quite some time now (what is it about being elected mayor here?), and our governor is a such a sad and pathetic “pick me fascist” that he’ll be on his knees before his disgusting god-emperor with his mouth open with a snap of the fingers…I do worry about the safety of our people here, especially our immigrant population (and historically New Orleans has always been multi-cultural and we have large and interesting ethnic populations here; Isleños, Greeks, Irish, Jews, Filipinos, Italians, and of course, the trafficked Africans), but New Orleanians do not put up with shit from outsiders, so it’s going to be interesting.

New Orleans has a very long, and very violent, history–no matter what the metro area white flight racists claim, there was never a time in the city’s history when there wasn’t violence and crime here. They left when the schools were integrated because they are racist garbage–but they sure will tell people they are from New Orleans though, because no one anywhere knows or gives a shit about Metairie, Kenner, Mandeville, and so forth. How many destination weddings take place in Kenner or Metairie? Just asking.

Oh! I watched the first episode of The American Revolution last night, and it gave me a lot of thoughts. I may watch more of it tonight.

And on that note, best to get back to my data entry. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Long Long Time

Thursday and my last day in the office before the weekend. I slept really well last night–I even forgot to set the alarm but woke up on time on my own, without an assist from Sparky. My legs feel a bit fatigued, but that’s not a big deal. I was also very productive last night when I got home from work. I did the dishes and finished the laundry, and then made mac ‘n’ cheese for our potluck today at work. (I now have more dishes to do, but that’s okay.) Paul has a gala event for the TWF to attend tonight, so he’ll be home late, probably after I fall asleep. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, by far and away my favorite of these marvelously trashy shows, and went to bed relatively early. Tonight when I get home (after an errand) I will unload the dishwasher and reload it, and try to get the kitchen straightened up as much as I can so I don’t have to do it over the weekend. I also need to make a list for the trip–things to take, and things to get done before I leave–and after I do all that tonight, I’ll probably read for a bit.

Being oblivious, it never dawned on me that this month is Noirvember (despite seeing lots of posts about it, and even commenting on some…my grasp of the obvious is slippery at best) which would have made it perfect for another reading project. Sigh. I should have spent this month reading (and watching) noir! Especially since I am getting ready to really immerse myself in writing one. Making I can make the project Noir for the Holidays, and move it back to December? Heavy heaving sigh. I have a ton of noirs in my ebook library–there was a big sale on the marvelous Dorothy B. Hughes recently and I snapped up quite few of them, and two–Ride the Pink Horse and The Fallen Sparrow– look especially interesting, as do some of the Jim Thompsons I’ve also gotten on sale. I also want to revisit some of James M. Cain’s classics, and maybe even some I’ve not read. I also would like to rewatch In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers…so much awesome noir out there!!

I’ve also been revisiting Fleetwood Mac lately, mostly inspired by Buckingham Nicks finally being released on DVD and to streaming services. It’s a great album, yes, but as I listened and enjoyed it, I kept thinking it was missing something. Yesterday on my way to work I played Rumours in the car (and on the way home; today I am listening to Mirage) and it hit me: that is what’s missing from Buckingham Nicks–the keyboards and harmonies of Christine McVie, and that incomparable rhythm section of Mick and John. Some of these songs got repurposed later as Fleetwood Mac recordings, but really–they should have just rerecorded it as a Fleetwood Mac record. The interesting thing about their music collectively is it holds up still, all these years later, and most of the albums are masterpieces.

Oh, if you’re interested in trying my mac ‘n’;’ cheese, the recipe is here, if you’d like to give it a try. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. It is a LOT of cheese, and if you’re dieting, don’t bother, as it also calls for heavy cream, half-and-half, and sour cream on top of about 32 ounces of cheese.

And ICE is here, staying at the Riverside Hilton and apparently using the Riverwalk parking as a staging area for evil. I bet those ICE agents were also really excited about being reassigned to New Orleans…mwah ha ha ha ha. New Orleans is a city known for its, well, everything, but its hospitality is always top notch, unless you aren’t wanted here. Sure, Louisiana is a red state (look at the pitiful fools we sent to Washington and our state government of fools–a true confederacy of dunces), but New Orleans gave 83% of its vote to Harris/Walz. The orangutan never even drew twenty percent of the vote here once in three tries, and immigrants rebuilt this city after Katrina. This isn’t going to go the way ICE thinks it will…and there’s so much interference on a basic level here. It’s not like our streets make sense to begin with, and they are riddled with deceptively deep potholes. We have second-lines all the time, and it’s also marching band practice season with Carnival just around the corner. High speed chases here end in fatalities all the time because the streets make no sense, are often insanely narrow, and change one-way directions all over the city. Compass directions make no sense here; the sun rises over the West Bank every morning and you drive east to get to the north shore. I hope we have several flooding rains here during their stay.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great Thursday, everyone, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

You’ll Think of Me

Work-at-home Friday, and not a single meeting on my agenda for the day. Huzzah! I really hate meetings; I always have, primarily because so many of them fall into the “this could have been an email” category.

Yesterday was a very good day. Yes, I was alone in the clinic yesterday without a nurse, but we weren’t terribly busy and I was able to get a lot of my Admin duties–the ones that have to be done in the office–finished. I am almost completely caught up on everything, and I have been doing a very good job of keeping up with everything rather than the ever-popular meh, I can do it tomorrow thinking I so often fall into. But I’ve not been tired this week, which probably had to do with the time change and sleeping an hour later (technically) than I was. Once I am used to it, I’ll probably go back to being sleepy and tired all the time again. Something to look forward to?

And in other delightful news, a jury of his peers found Sean Dunn not guilty of a misdemeanor for throwing a Subway sandwich at an ICE agent, or “assault with a deadly sandwich.” This entire case–and that this went to fucking trial–is yet another indicator of the Keystone Cops-like approach to governance in this current “administration” and its authoritarian Fascistic policies. My personal favorite was the “victim” testifying about his PTSD from the sandwich exploding…despite the fact the sandwich can clearly be seen afterward, on the ground, still in its wrapper. I guess Mr. Alpha Male Ice Agent will be forever traumatized by the smell of onions and mustard. Grow a pair, you little bitch–balls or ovaries, I don’t care which. And seriously, everyone–yes, their grasp on power means their idiocy and fascism is scary, but this is yet another example of what whiny cry-babies the right are. Fuck them and forever, seriously. Their posturing has no basis or courage behind it.

As I said, when I got home from work last night, I wasn’t tired or fatigued; my hips didn’t even ache. I didn’t do a whole lot of anything around here, either; I caught up on watching the news and did some organizing of computer files, and I did write for a little while. It was, all in all, a very nice and relaxing evening at home. Before I start my work duties this morning, I am going to make a to-do list and put the dishes away and finish the laundry. I am thinking today is going to be my “don’t leave the house at all” day for the weekend–tomorrow I’ll make a short grocery run and get the mail–and hopefully this day, and the weekend, will be productive as well as relaxing. This morning, Sparky let me sleep in a bit before I finally got up, which was very appreciated. I feel good and rested this morning, and it looks to be a lovely day. This weekend we’re going to have extremely cold temperatures over night–potential freeze, too–so it’s a good “stay in my chair under a blanket” weather. I want to finish reading The Hunting Wives this weekend, and get started on my next book. I am going to go back to the pre-Halloween Horror Month methodology for reading something new to me, rereading something else, and reading a juvenile/young adult novel all at the same time. Maybe I can swap one of those out for nonfiction? I don’t know, we’ll have to see how The Hunting Wives goes this weekend. I’d also like to finish another newsletter essay, whether it’s the one about Boots or the one about going to my dad’s high school homecoming game when I was last in Alabama.

And of course, there’s always computer files to clean up and hard copy filing to do, too. And the chores; but I tried to keep up with them as much as I could this past week, so the downstairs isn’t too terrible.

I also can’t keep horror out of my mind, probably because I immersed myself so thoroughly in the genre for all of October. But watching those podcasts on Youtube about Appalachian/Southern lore and legend has been incredibly inspirational for my own horror writing. I’d also like to get some good foundational work done on Chlorine this weekend, too. I’m also still glowing from the election results from Tuesday; it’s nice to experience the audacity of hope again.

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

We really have the most gorgeous sky here.

Lonesome Loser

Thursday and I have the day off blog because I am having dinner at 5 with a friend and after that I am hosting Noir at the Bar: Morally Grey. Tomorrow is a work-at-home day around my doctor’s appointment, and I was thinking about going to the Crooked Lane party Friday night but…not so sure about that. I was terribly tired when I got home from work yesterday evening, and just collapsed into my easy chair. Sparky joined me post-haste, and I basically watched the USOpen with Paul all night before I fell asleep in my chair before nine (the match we’d been watching concluded, and I couldn’t even tell you who played? Naomi Osaka?) but I slept deeply and well last night. I got up at my usual time to feed Sparky and went back to bed and slept for another two hours…but Sparky came up and cuddled with me when he was finished eating AND he was purring. Coincidence I feel refreshed and rested this morning?

I think not.

Today I want to get some things taken care of around the house before I head to the Quarter to have dinner, including some writing and reading, and I also have to get prepared for tonight as well. I have to work tomorrow so I am not going to be doing anything after the reading besides coming home and going to bed. Pretty nice, if I do say so myself. I actually feel good this morning, which is a lovely feeling. (Never underestimate how well the soothing relaxation from the purr of a cuddling cat works.) I also have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning after my department and team meetings. The Crooked Lane party is tomorrow night, and I may head down for that; never hurts to stay in the good graces of a publisher, am I right?

Yesterday, our shitstain of a governor applauded the mention of the military being sent to New Orleans (and other Louisiana cities) to clean up the “crime” problem by the demented president. That presence here won’t affect our already struggling tourist economy at ALL, will it? And how will such a thing fly in Moses Mike Johnson’s district of Shreveport/Bossier City? Yeah, no government overreach here at all. Imagine had Biden sent the military in to Dallas or Kansas City or Nashville to help with crime? I will say this–a city known for its hospitality and welcoming attitude will make those soldiers sorry they were ever deployed. Don’t fuck with New Orleans. And seriously, fuck our failure of a governor, who is doing nothing about the wetlands (other than making everything worse), and he also ran on cleaning up crime…so he’s admitting, straight up, he’s an utter failure and so is his administration. We already knew that, of course; our state government makes Florida’s look like California’s.

If the federal government really wanted to clean up crime in Louisiana, they’d start at the Governor’s Mansion in Baton Rouge before making their way to the capitol. Louisiana has more oil than Kuwait, but we’re in the bottom five of everything. This is your Republican governance example as to why you should never vote for one of them; DeSantis is another great example of shit stain governance. You’d have thought we learned our lesson from Bobby Jindal’s corrupt incompetence, and how a Democratic governor basically cleaned up that mess…all so Landry could drive Louisiana into the sewer with little chance of getting out.

I know I’ll do my best to make the troops uncomfortable here. Landry also announced that ICE prisoners will have their own special section in the inhumane hell of Angola. (Reminder that immigrants have always rebuilt Louisiana after disastrous hurricanes. New Orleans would have been in ruins for years without them.)

And on that note, I am heading back into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, and I hope to see you tonight at the Crescent City Brewhouse for Noir at the Bar: Morally Grey.

Ramses II statues with drifting sand at the Abu Simbel temple

Sweet Talkin’ Woman

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around once again, and I am up early, as per the norm. One more day on the office, work-at-home Friday, and then a three day weekend. I have also taken off the Thursday and Friday after Labor Day, because of Bouchercon….so a three day weekend leads into a two-day work week. Ah, well, sometimes it happens, doesn’t it?

I had a good laugh at my own expense yesterday afternoon, as oblivious Greg finally had the proverbial lightbulb come on above his head. I’d been wondering about the fatigue and mental exhaustion of the last couple of weeks (even after the infusion fatigue died away), and even yesterday I was wondering about “maybe” being depressed and not recognizing it since I don’t have anxiety any more…and then it hit me, right between the eyes: The twenty year Katrina anniversary is this Friday! I’ve been reading old blog entries from that time, watching documentaries and videos about Katrina and the aftermath (because I wanted to write an essay for the anniversary), and duh, you think those memories might have had something to do with that possibly-depression? One of the reasons I made Valerie so oblivious in A Streetcar Named Murder was because I, too, am completely oblivious. Some things, apparently, never change. I always am a bit down this time of year. Always.

Yes, I’ve been immersing myself in a very depressing subject and then wondered why I was probably depressed…not much ever gets past me, does it? Heavy heaving sigh. But that’s the obliviousness I was talking about. One can never go wrong assuming I am clueless.

I was also delighted to hear that Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift are engaged. As always, the right lost their minds the way they always do–after all, she’s an anti-Trumper and therefore in their eyes a demon sent from hell to corrupt Amerikkkuh–and I honestly don’t understand why they are always looking to get outraged over things that don’t really concern them or are, frankly, none of their fucking business. See also Sydney Sweeney ad (no one cared except them and a few academics parsing it) and the Cracker Barrel logo nonsense. (They have changed their minds and are keeping the old cracker and the barrel on their logo.) Dean Cain (aka worst Superman ever) made a fool of himself making an ICE recruitment video, which I did enjoy a few cruel laughs over.

All of this begs the question: where are the Epstein files?

So, I am hopeful that tonight I’ll be able to get some things done when I get home. Sparky was needy yesterday because Paul went into his office, so he was home by himself all afternoon…he’s always super-clingy after he’s been left alone, which is very sweet. I don’t know if Paul is working from home today or not–which will determine Sparky’s neediness when I get home, but I just have to remember to pick him up and let him sit on my shoulders (draped around my neck like a stole), which always soothes him and makes him very happy. I did manage to do some of the things on the new to-do list I made up before I left the office yesterday, and I am not berating myself for not getting more done because it was overly ambitious in the first place.

But let me get going with this day and head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

An obelisk in the Karnak temple with the moon overhead.

More Than This

Wednesday morning and the midpoint of the week. Huzzah! Yes, I am back to wishing my life away, as my mother used to call it. But I can abide, you know? I wasn’t rested properly yesterday, I don’t think, or else it was the off-and-on rain/thunderstorms we had yesterday. That wet cold air inside the office just makes me want to curl up somewhere and go to sleep under my pile of blankets, which makes the workday a bit of a slog. Ah, well. It’s supposed to continue like this until the weekend or so, when it’ll just be hot and sunny and humid and miserable. Yay! And Monday is my next infusion (second of three). Soon I’ll be giving myself shots. Can’t wait…although everyone tells me it’s easy; it’s a pre-loaded pen-like device I just need to stick myself with. And it’s not like my job hasn’t gotten me used to sticking myself and other people over the years. Sigh. It’s hard for me, sometimes, to wrap my mind around the whole this is the rest of your life thing. But it could be worse–it can always be worse–so I will accept this and not let it bug me. I’m sure I’ll eventually get so used to it I won’t even give it a second thought. It’s always the first time, you know? Just like I was nervous about the infusion (when they tell you all the things to look out for during, it can be a bit scary: “if you can’t breathe or have shortness of breath”, you know, things like that) until I did it for the first time.

Definitely will be bringing my book with me on Monday.

I guess Ann Coulter got tired of not being a part of the ICE raids and so decided to glorify genocide on social media, suggesting that the European genocide of indigenous Americans didn’t go far enough? She wound up deleting the post, which is more shocking than the post, to be honest; she’s always been one of those “freedom of speech means I can say the most disgusting things without apology” advocates. Ann Coulter has always been hot sewage, and back in the day she used to compete with Rush Limbaugh to see who could say the most revolting, inhuman kind of shit. Back in the 1990s, as I saw my parents and family getting sucked in more and more by Fox News1, I used to actually read books by right-wingers, including Ann Coulter. (My primary takeaway was they needed to hire better ghostwriters.) Don’t ever forget that Coulter also wrote the introduction to Phyllis Schlafly’s autobiography, and Schlafly was a monster. Like attracts like, I suppose. But since she turned on Trump for not being racist enough in his first term (she probably orgasms with every news report about ICE and Alligator Auschwitz), she’s not as popular on the right as she used to be; how very dare she be critical of MAGA’s God Emperor? I mean, she can’t even get booked on her ex-lover Bill Maher’s show anymore. But she deleted the post. What the fuck, Fraulein Coulter? Outrage used to be what got you out of bed in the morning and paid your bills. I certainly don’t believe she grew a conscience in her sixties.

After the stolen election of 2000, I no longer needed to read right-winger’s books because I didn’t really know what I was gaining by reading them anymore–I used to think it was better to know what they were thinking and saying, but this century, they’ve pretty much started saying the private stuff out loud. It’s impossible to go on-line or watch any news or anything without knowing what the Right’s position on anything and everything is–but you can be sure it’s rooted in racism, misogyny, and homophobia…same as it ever was, same as it ever will be.

Plus, sharing what I learned from reading those books and proximity to right wing voters? I was never believed by anyone on the left, so I just wound up being Cassandra on the walls of Troy…and truly understood her madness. It’s horrible not being believed…but everything I warned about is coming true.

Sigh.

It rained off and on all day yesterday–we even got a flash flood advisory in the afternoon–and I wasn’t really fully and completely mentally functional yesterday. My brain was loopy and my body was fatigued; I felt all day like I could go back to bed without a problem. When I got home from work I did some chores (didn’t finish them, though–there’s a load of laundry that needs to be fluffed and folded, and I need to finish the dishes to load in the dishwasher), and then worked on editing for a while. It didn’t go well, but I made progress, and I do feel more awake and rested so far this morning, so maybe tonight will go super-well. Stranger things have occurred, after all. We also watched the second to last episode of We Were Liars after Paul got home (later than usual), and then I went to bed earlier than usual. I think I need to get back into the going to bed at nine thing again. I also didn’t read anything last night because by the time I sat in my chair my brain was misfiring again. Heavy sigh. Maybe tonight? I think I just need to get back into the writing habit again; everything is still rusty and the gears don’t shift accordingly. so I need to retrain my brain and my body and my creativity into productivity again.

I can do it, I know I can.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Hump Day, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning.

I really appreciate the fact that the majority of pro wrestlers today focus more on their fitness–and have much better bodies than the ones in my youth did. I can easily see this dude dancing shirtless at Oz during Southern Decadence.
  1. In fairness, they were always right-wing; Rush and Fox just confirmed what they thought. ↩︎