Work at home Friday, and I don’t want candy, at least not yet. Let me swill down my coffee first before I head for the jelly beans I bought this week as a treat. I‘m hoping that today will be a good day, and I’ll get a lot done. I was very tired yesterday; I hit the wall around noon, and even eating lunch didn’t really help at all. I did run some errands on the way home, but once I was home I was completely a frazzle so I simply collapsed into my easy chair and caught up on my reality television. Reality television really fulfills a need for television that doesn’t require you to think much other than to be judgmental of the behavior you’re seeing on the screen; and I do kind of enjoy the childish antics. I wouldn’t want to be friends with any of these women–not sure that I would even want to know them, in all honesty–which is interesting; but the nonsense is kind of addicting, but I do hate when they just scream over each other. I know this is why we watch, but for me the worst part is there’s rarely any karmic payback for rotten behavior–and as long as we keep watching, they encourage it. One of the more tasteless aspects of the Real Housewives franchises is how regularly they resort to homophobia for story-lines; this has been happening far too regularly on programs overseen by an actual gay man (my loathing for Andy Cohen runs very deep), and yet I still watch. Not sure what that says about me, but in these interesting times the last thing I need or want to do is take away anything that can distract me from the collapse of the American experiment.
Today I only have to work about a half-day from my desk here in the Lost Apartment; I have a meeting, some forms to go over, and some trainings to get done. After that, I’m probably going to run to the post office, pick up a prescription, and potentially swing by the grocery for a few things. I also need to write and I also need to clean. My shoulder feels tight this morning, too–not sure what that’s about, but I’m going to use the massage gun on it when I finish this and see if that loosens it up a bit; but I don’t think the gym is wise until I have a better read on what’s going on with that muscle. Ugh. I really dislike feeling feeble, but I also have to cope with not being who I was physically five years ago. Part and parcel of getting older, of course, and I need to resist feeling bad about not being able to do what I could when I was in my thirties or forties or even my fifties anymore. That’s how life works, after all, and since I have already lived far longer than I ever thought I would–I thought I wouldn’t make it to forty, honestly–I need to stop regretting new limitations and make them work for me rather than against me. My focus isn’t quite as sharp as it was before I had COVID–I still don’t know if it was long or short, but the effects I felt while testing positive–low energy, no short-term memory, feeling fatigue like never before–are still there. Was it from the COVID, or was it turning sixty? Who knows? I just know that was when my life first changed for the worst.
I still haven’t made that to-do list yet, either. But I did manage to get caught up on everything at work yesterday, which is always a relief; so I don’t have to play catch-up at all on Monday, which is great. January ends today, but I am not grateful that this hellish month is finally ending; because experience has taught me that things can always get worse. This administration has hung a target on the back of anyone who isn’t a straight white cisgender man–as some white women are finding out; you and your special needs children? DEI. You fucked around and found out, didn’t you? And think how happy and smug and proud you were when you pulled the lever for that fucking bastard, and how you were sticking it to “the fags and the transgenders and the dirty Mexicans and the Blacks”…yeah, no one’s a winner when it comes to fascism other than the straight white cisgender male, but I’ve given up trying to convince people to vote intelligently for the candidates that will work the hardest for them and do the most for them, rather than the emotionally stunted vote to punish other people gleefully. White people would rather fuck themselves over completely if it means fucking over people they don’t like or fear because they’re tribal morons who haven’t evolved into decency.
I think the biggest disadvantage we are at in this ongoing struggle is there is no real queer national media. Our so-called national news magazines long ago sold their sold their souls and consciences and commitments to the community; I used to joke how Out and The Advocate went from being our Time and Newsweek to our People and Us Weekly. When this happened about twenty-five or so years ago, I despaired. During the Bush administration wasn’t the time for the two queer publications with the biggest circulation in the country to go from news to lifestyle and celebrity culture–because we definitely needed more of those. Every day I get emails from queer websites promising me “thirst traps” of celebrities or hot guys from Instagram which is always a pleasant diversion, but…oh, maybe try to do a better job rallying the community and making them aware of their rights and what we can do to protect ourselves and so forth? But yes, pics of celebrities wearing gray sweatpants without underwear is what we need to “parch our thirst.” Can’t imagine where the stereotype that gay men are vapid and shallow and think with their dicks comes from.1
There’s definitely a need for that sort of thing, but it really can’t be everything, you know? And there’s no greater act of protest against this regime than finding joy in our sexuality and our exploits. Every time you have queer sex, it’s a protest–but we also can’t have sex twenty-four hours per day (no matter how much we try, and believe me, I have), and there’s more going on that we should be paying attention to?
The decline of the media was foreshadowed by the decline of queer media, almost like it was the canary in the coal mine. But it happened, and here we are.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday and I will be back on the morrow, most like.
- Not that there’s anything wrong with that–but hot guys and dick shots and so forth aren’t all we do and think about and hey, we’re capable of holding more than one thought in our brains. Who knew? ↩︎
Queer and Loathing in America 