Tag: John Bernthal

Rooms on Fire

Good morning! We made it to Tuesday, didn’t we? Yesterday was a bit off for me, not going to lie. But I’m up early, didn’t hit snooze more times than I should, and I am waking up slowly. We’re going to be extremely busy in the clinic today and I am, once again, working an almost full appointment schedule by myself. Heavy heaving sigh. But tis the trials and tribulations of one Gregalicious life, and all one can do is bear it and power through. I do feel less wrung-out than I did yesterday, which is, clearly, a strong and steady improvement over Monday’s horror. It really wasn’t bad, actually, I just felt kind of inside-out all day. Work was its usual, and I stopped to make groceries on the way home–amazing how what I got would have cost about fifty bucks last year but is almost eighty now. Sigh. But we have to eat, don’t we?

We watched another episode of His and Hers last night, which is a very interesting show. I don’t think there’s anyone in the show to root for–they all seem like pretty terrible people, and we are learning everything very slowly, which is interesting but also doesn’t really draw you in because you don’t completely understand. It’s more observing than actually watching, if you know what I mean? It’s very well done, and it’s always fun to look at Jon Bernthal (who should be a bigger star in my opinion). The Beauty drops another episode tomorrow night, so tonight is looking like another His and Hers episode or two. I have to run errands tonight after work–have to go all the way uptown to get the mail and some more prescriptions–and I need to do a load of dishes and a load of laundry, too. Stay focused. I also want to work on the short story I started this weekend. I have a great idea for a story for an anthology that was recently announced, I just have to write the damned thing now. I really need to write something fictional soon–the creative writing muscles are atrophying as I type this.

I was also thinking more about Judgment at Nuremberg and societal guilt some more yesterday–and the subject of “what do the everyday people think” that this movie kind of addresses. The short story–set in a slightly future dystopian Louisiana–has me thinking about all of this sort of thing. I had always believed, since childhood, that the South was utterly and completely racist–and whenever I read a historical novel set during Jim Crow and before Civil Rights that centers heroic anti-racist Southern whites I roll my eyes. (Don’t even get me started on the To Kill a Mockingbird nonsense.) But as I read more actual Southern history, and talk to my dad about it more, turns out the South really isn’t a monolith–there were Southerners who opposed secession and fought on the other side, which sometimes led to horrible atrocities–a distant relative fought for the North, came home on leave, and was skinned alive by the Home Guard (sometimes you supposedly can hear his screams late at night in the back hollers)–aka the Confederate version of the Gestapo. The power structures of the Southern states were in the hands of the racists and the Klan (the argument could be made that they still are) so whites who actually opposed Jim Crow were also afraid. (One of the many striking aspects of Tananarive Due’s The Reformatory was the white family who were in the Klan that the teenaged Black girl worked for; the daughter, who reluctantly helps her, knows Jim Crow is wrong but will only do so much out of fear.) So, were Southerners who opposed enslavement and secession but kept quiet out of fear for their own safety any different from the everyday Germans just living their lives under an evil regime, without the power or safety to do anything? Again, that brings up that morality question–does silent opposition matter when atrocities are being committed?

This is why reading Black authors writing about the South is so important. Progressives are so frequently told we live in a bubble and not reality; but people who don’t read authors from different demographics are also living in a bubble of supremacy and racism that bears no resemblance to reality. (As well as Due, read Wanda M. Morris and Cheryl Head, for a start–and S. A. Cosby is always a sure bet.)

I had a lot of laughs yesterday at the pathetic white people outrage as the casting of gorgeous Lupita N’yongo as Helen of Troy because “historical accuracy.” Just out of curiosity, how many ancient Greeks are actually in the cast? Or Greeks, for that matter? Were you there and can conclusively state Helen was a white woman? Her father was Zeus, who fucked her mother in the form of a swan, and she was hatched from an egg. How many Greek gods are being played by actual Greek gods? Just say you’re a racist piece of shit and miss me with your coward-ass dog whistling.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I will be back tomorrow.

I will never stop being awed by how insanely beautiful Henry Cavill is….

Over & Over

Monday morning and I slept really well again. I feel rested this morning; but then a weekend of pain killers and muscle relaxers will do that for you. But I do feel better than I have since getting home from Minneapolis this morning, so that’s a start. My back still hurts but it’s bearable–this morning it feels like I simply slept on it wrong rather than making my wince and my eyes water every time I move. I also realized yesterday that if I did everything with proper posture, my back didn’t hurt…you know, doing things the way you’re supposed to–i.e. not bending at the waist to pick something up but rather using my legs, keeping my head erect instead of leaning forward, sitting back in chairs etc. I also did, in addition to the drugs, the alternating heat/cold thing with it, and so I think as long as I don’t do anything particularly stupid in the meantime it’ll keep getting better.

And I should always use good posture and do things properly anyway. Lesson learned.

I did manage to get all the dishes done and put away yesterday, which is lovely. I have a couple of errands to run today–mail, minor groceries, a prescription–but I think the right plan is to do my data entry while doing my heat/cold with my back, and at some point try to do some stretching. I believe my hips and quadriceps have been taking pressure off my back when I walk and do things, which is why they’ve been exhausted for the last few days as well. I don’t know how to avoid this happening again when I travel, but I think it does have more to do with all the standing and laughing–a laughing injury!–than anything else, as I didn’t have the same issues other times I’ve traveled. We did watch the Saints lose yesterday, and then, in my drug-addled state I rewatched the LSU game when it was rebroadcast on SEC Network yesterday, before we watched American Gigolo, House of the Dragon and The Serpent Queen. I wasn’t sure about American Gigolo, because no matter how much I love John Bernthal I just couldn’t see him taking over from Richard Gere, but he did a great job and the second episode really takes the show off–the first is merely set-up and back story, which is why you should always give a show two episodes before deciding to stop watching unless the first episode is so incredibly bad you can’t put yourself through a second (although I will confess to being wrong about Outer Banks, which I found out thanks to the Holmses). Of the three, I believe The Serpent Queen is the best (because you really can’t go wrong with Catherine de Medici; her story alone is dramatic enough for a series), even though they aren’t capturing Diane de Poitiers correctly (Diane was a lot smarter then they are making her out to be, and she was never Catherine’s enemy for the simple reason she preferred Henri to be married to someone he could tolerate but was no threat to her); but I believe the audience wouldn’t get the nuance and sophistication of the game Diane played in reality.

I did start reading Donna Andrews’ Round Up the Usual Peacocks yesterday before I had to start taking meds for my back, and it’s as charming as her books always are. I didn’t get as far as I would have liked because my back’s need for attention by the time the Saints game started could no longer be ignored; and I started reading Daphne du Maurier’s novella “A Border-Line Case” during my brief lucid moments (because it was shorter). It’s an interesting story and one that I will most likely have to start over again in order to get a real reading of it accomplished, but du Maurier is such a genius with mood and her language usage that reading her is akin to getting drunk on the words.

Reading du Maurier is, of course, one of those things that make me wonder why I bother, or what I am trying to do with my work–and she used a typewriter. I can never get past that with writers of the past–that they wrote either first in long-hand or all along on the typewriter–but regardless, it always had to be typed. (Even using Word I make typos on a regular basis and they are far easier to correct on a computer document than they are on onion-skin or bond paper….which makes me think about how Misery couldn’t work today, because Paul would have to be a crank who still used a typewriter instead of a laptop and…you get the picture.)

So, today I hope to start digging out from under. I had never really caught up on everything after Bouchercon (primarily because I’ve been in so much pain since I got home) and so now today I must assess the damage and try to figure out how to get back on the horse I’ve fallen from. I didn’t intend to lose two weeks to Bouchercon but here we are, almost to the end of September and another month of 2022 gone before I knew it and a deadline taking aim at the bull’s eye squarely affixed to the center of my forehead. The house is a mess (as always) and I have a lot of data entry to get done today before venturing out to run the afore-mentioned errands; I also don’t know where I am at financially and need to figure out what bills are left to be paid and so forth. I also need to get this messy house under some sort of control, and I only have so much time every day to deal with these things. Once my back is better, I’m going to start easing back into the gym as well–what better way to get in shape for conferences than being in better physical condition and perhaps dropping some of this extra weight? My blood sugar was surprisingly high the last time I fasted for blood work, which isn’t great–so perhaps the exercise and shift in diet I’ve been avoiding for quite some time has finally reached the point where it’s unavoidable anymore. My natural inclination to laziness doesn’t help matters much in this regard either, but I just have to remember how much I enjoy how I feel after I’ve worked out to help motivate me to get started again. This back shit is a motivator too; if I can keep my back stretched and strengthen my core, I’ll never lose a week to back pain again.

And so, that is the state of the Gregalicious this morning: hopeful, rested, and hoping the sheer amount of work I am behind on won’t send me into a corner whimpering. I am heading into the spice mines, and I shall see you on the other side, Constant Reader.

And as always, thanks for stopping by.