Tag: Last Week Tonight With John Oliver

For Your Love

Here it is Tuesday morning, and I am up early and so ready to drink coffee and get cleaned up and head into the office. The coffee is actually hitting the spot quite nicely this morning and I actually feel good and rested again this morning. I didn’t feel terribly tired when I got home last night from work, but Sparky was needy and I allowed myself to give in to his demands for my lap. (Scooter also used to do this, and I am kind of thrilled Sparky is the same way after I’ve been at work all day; I missed my relaxation/wind down time with Scooter, frankly.) I had a good day at work yesterday, and hope to have a great one today. I do feel good, and not sleepy or groggy in the least, which is a very good thing. I may get tired later on, but I have to go get the mail and make a little groceries on the way home tonight, so whether or not I’ll be able to get any good work done tonight remains to be seen. We’ve also got shows to watch and get caught up on, too.

We’ve been watching Rivals, which we are enjoying, and it’s a lot of fun–slyly wicked and funny, with an exceptional cast filled with really hot men, including Aidan Turner, who is aging into a sexy hot daddy. I’m interested in seeing how it all turns out, and am enjoying the ride for sure. I also watched the most recent Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and his piece on naturalization and becoming a US citizen, also took some potshots at grifting loser Lee Greenwood–which I am always up for. Greenwood’s song is patriotic pablum mixed in with un-Christlike proselytizing tying faith to patriotism in a most egregious and heavy-handed way (my favorite part of the whole segment is when Oliver reveals that Lee “Mr. Christian Patriot” Greenwood recorded a version for Canada! The grift is real, people1.

I spent some time yesterday following the Taylor Swift trends on social media, so I could how much the Swifties loved New Orleans–and how much New Orleans loved them back. It’s actually kind of wholesome, you know? The economic impact of her concerts here was roughly half a billion dollars–and every service worker made a fortune in tips and had a marvelous time. The Swifties set a standard for New Orleans tourism that will be very hard for other major groups coming to town to live up to; henceforth it will be “yeah, but it wasn’t a Swiftie weekend”–and the Super Bowl crowd this coming February could also be Taylor Swift driven, too, if her boyfriend on the Chiefs makes it to the Big Game yet again…and while I am not a Chiefs fan, I kind of want them to make the Super Bowl (since the Saints clearly aren’t going to)…but it would also be kind of fun for the Washington Commanders to make it, since Jayden Daniels was an LSU star and is now getting Washington fans super-excited. He is fun to watch, and that Hail Mary against Chicago Sunday (I’ve watched clips) was stunning, and he’s so damned humble! Just a likable guy with a lot of football talent. I’m glad he came to LSU, obviously, but I’m also glad for him that it was clearly the right move for him. Say what you will about Brian Kelly (my jury is still out on him), but he made Jayden Daniels’ life. Had he stayed at Arizona State, he wouldn’t be where he is now, and that does kind of make the changes to college football over the last decade or so sensible. All that talent could have gone to waste because he made the wrong decision when he was seventeen, which makes me understand the need for the transfer portal so guys with talent can have a chance to prove themselves…but I’m sure for every Jayden Daniels (or Joe Burrow, for that matter) transfer portal success story, there’s several stories where the athlete screwed himself or was screwed by the system.

The election is a week away, and while the stakes couldn’t be higher (it seems like the stakes of elections have gotten higher with every presidential election since 2000), I did vote already so there’s really not much I can do at this point other than trying to reach undecided voters, and at this point anyone who is still undecided would be too fucking frustrating to talk to in the first place. I have no patience for puritan holier than thou third party voters because that is a privilege I have never been afforded. The number of straight white cisgender men (and the occasional woman) who have tried to shame me for recognizing that my rights are at risk with every election and therefore doing something pragmatic rather than appeasing my conscience? Who have talked down to me about it? All due respect, fuck third party voters now and forever. All third party voters have done in this century is elect George W. Bush and Donald Trump (and before them, Richard M. Nixon and Bill Clinton…so it benefited Republicans three out of four times), and their refusal to take any responsibility for that betrayal of ostensibly progressive ideals (“I’m too pure to vote for Hillary!”2 Well, congratulations on believing twenty years of nonstop lies and smears from Fox and the Right, big thinker! We should put you in charge of everything!) and then continuing to try to shame a gay fucking man who witnessed it all? Fuck yourself with barbed wire, and then give it to Jill Stein and Ralph Nader.

Straight cisgender people: telling queers how to think and believe and behave because we are, by virtue of being queer, are far too stupid to think for ourselves. So yes, a third party vote this year absolutely is a vote for MAGA–so you’re a racist and a misogynist and a homophobe. Glad your “conscience” is okay with that….which tells me a lot about your conscience and values.

Maybe the medications are allowing me to control the stress and anxiety this election is causing in me–I’m not spiraling by any means, and not doom-scrolling endlessly–but I think that could be weighing on me otherwise, which is where the low energy has come from lately? A thought; one never can be sure. But I am lot calmer this year than I have been since the Supreme Court awarded George Bush the White House on a silver platter in 2000.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a good one, and hang in there, Constant Reader!

  1. Don’t even get me started on the Blasphemy Bible grift. ↩︎
  2. In 2016, I worked with two young straight white girls who who would say “Hillary is GROSS” and “I hate having to vote for her” and bullshit like that to ME, a gay man. Insensitive much, ladies? The morning after Trump won, they were morose. I probably enjoyed saying “Well, at least that GROSS Hillary isn’t president, right?” I thought about texting them the morning Dobbs landed…. ↩︎

The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Weeheeheehee dee heeheeheehee weeoh aweem away
Weeheeheehee dee heeheeheehee weeoh aweem away

You’re welcome for that hellish ear worm.

Well, here it is Tuesday morning and I feel a lot better, more rested, than yesterday. I was extremely tired when I got home after work last night. I didn’t really do much of anything once I was home, other than cuddling with Sparky and watching this week’s Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, which I always enjoy, as well as two more episodes of Alexander on Netflix, which I am enjoying. I was always interested in Alexander when I was growing up–I liked Egyptian, Greek, and Roman history and culture before moving to United States history, then British, and ultimately European. I also watched some documentaries on forgotten kings and queens of Europe. Sparky mostly slept in my lap for much of the evening, and I retired early. PT was rough yesterday morning, but this Friday I get to go to the gym on my own for the first time in well over a year. YIKES. I only have a few exercises to. do there, and I am a little bit excited about going for the first time and getting back into the swing of working out regularly again.

I am starting to feel acclimated back to my life again, and I am also thinking I am feeling more like myself. I’ve been flooded with story ideas over the last few days (Alabama always does that for me, for some reason), solutions to issues in works in progress that I’ve been struggling with, and book ideas. This is, of course, a relief, as I’ve felt kind of stagnant creatively since the surgery. It’s like my brain is finally waking up again, something I was concerned about, obviously–when your identity and most of your life is wrapped around being a writer, the loss of creative energy in my mind is even scarier than falling from a great height or cutting myself (two of my biggest fears). I suppose it would be okay, but I also can’t imagine never writing again.

I actually have thought about it seriously during this time of forced solitude and recovery. Writing and publishing is like a roller coaster ride–filled with ups and downs and frightening hazards to get past. 2023 was obviously a bad year for me, but I did produce two books I am proud of, Death Drop and Mississippi River Mischief. Is it any wonder that I wasn’t able to get much work done after they were finished and proofed and approved? Bouchercon was at the end of August, and when I got back was when I had my teeth done and went on the soft diet–no surprise I was low energy and not able to write very much–and then came the surgery and the recovery. And of course Scooter died last summer…yeesh, what a shitty year, underscored by the grieving for Mom. So, having not really written much after the books went into production, and not really being able to create while I recovered, made me take some stock and wonder if I wanted to keep doing it–the publishing side, anyway. But now that my overactive imagination has been reignited, all those doubts and self-questioning seem like self-pity. Waaah, I’m not Stephen King. So what? Sure, more money would be nice, but it’s not really the be-all end-all of why I do this, anyway. I love writing, I love telling stories, and I love creating characters I genuinely am interested in and want to get to know better.

I feel good this morning. I woke up and didn’t feel fatigued, either. I got a lot of work done at the office yesterday, which was awesome, and tonight when I head home I am making groceries and have some chores to do around the house, too. And…hopefully will get some writing done, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I’ll check back in with you later.

Pressure

Tuesday and we survived Monday, did we not? Huzzah for everyone for making it through Monday.

I slept really well Sunday night and felt rested and good yesterday. I am all caught up now on day-job activities, and also started the process to take my medical leave of absence from work. Two weeks from today is the surgery, and I am already so ready to be over it and through the rehabilitative process, you have no idea, Constant Reader. Anticipation is the worst for someone with anxiety–are you tired of me bringing that up yet? I guess it’s going to take me a little while to get used to knowing precisely what is the issue in my head, after thinking I was normal (or as close to it as I could be) for most of my life and thinking that everyone’s brains functioned this way. I wasn’t terribly exhausted after work, but I ran two errands on my way home–one in Midcity, the other in Uptown–and it was pitch dark when I got home. I never get used to that, no matter how long the time change is for; it always feels later than it is and like the entire day has been wasted. Tug wanted attention so I went to my chair so he could be a kitty donut, and I watched Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, before Paul came down and we started watching Karen Pirie, the BBC series based on a Val McDermid novel–and it’s a two time-line story! I do love a dual time-line story, and this one is rather well done, too. I was dead in my chair by nine, but did my best to stay up until at least nine-thirty before going to bed. (I sound positively tragic, don’t I?) I don’t remember having this much difficulty in adjusting to the time shift, but then I have a lot more going on this year than I usually do at this time.

It is nice that it’s light out when I go to work in the mornings, though–and this morning, with it already bright outside as the sun rises over the West Bank (yes, only in New Orleans does the sun rise over the west bank–is it any wonder that we are so off-balance and not like the rest of the country here?) makes me feel a bit more awake and alert than I usually do. It does seem like all I am doing these days is waiting–waiting for the dentist to call to let me know I can pick up my teeth; waiting for the surgery; waiting for pretty much any and everything you can think of, really. I have never been known for my patience, either. I just have to get used to the idea that things are out of my control (something that never sits well with me) and I need to simply ride it out for a bit.

I did get sort of caught up on my emails yesterday–I still have a little way to go before I have an empty inbox, but the possibility is there at last, hallelujah–so progress was made, and considering how much I was avoiding answering emails for over a week, that’s definitely a positive sign and takeaway. I do have a phone appointment with my primary care physician this morning, which is cool–it seems like all I’ve been doing since I got back from Bouchercon is go to medical or dental appointments–I really do like my new primary care physician and am looking forward to working with her more in the future. It really makes a difference when you feel connected to your doctor, rather than always feeling like a bother when you go in to see them. (It also just occurred to me that those feelings may entirely be due to my anxiety; I didn’t really know my previous doctor and never really felt like I got much of a chance to get to know him, despite seeing him for nearly three years at least, if not more) I also feel a lot better this morning than I have in a long time, like the depression and anxiety and worry has finally lifted and my brain feels like its wired properly this morning. I also don’t feel tired the way I usually do on Tuesday mornings. We’ll see how long this lasts, anyway, won’t we?

I am highly amused that, feeling like I should be more handy and adventurous, I went to Lowe’s to get a wagon and blinds for my primary kitchen window–and also thought about buying either a six or eight feet ladder that I could keep outside and only bring in when I need to reach up to clean the ceiling fans. I even looked at the ladders while I was there, thinking oh I can just have it delivered so I don’t have to worry about getting it into the car and went about making my other purchases. Of course, I couldn’t get the wagon assembled and I grabbed the wrong size blinds…which means I have to go back at some point and exchange it for the right ones. (I brought the wagon to the office to see if someone –a straight guy–could figure out what I am doing wrong with attaching the wheels; I don’t trust myself that it’s defective and needs to be returned along with the blinds.) I also started laughing at myself last night–I won’t be able to use such a ladder, or move it, until after I’ve recovered from the surgery, so what’s the point of getting one now? I will make a note to get one once I am all recovered–and leaving it outside will make it easier to access for cleaning the windows, which I have also slacked off on doing lately (I don’t think I’ve done the windows at all since last year, which is disgraceful).

I also feel more focused this morning than I have in a very long time, too, which is terrific. I am going to ride this wave as long as it lasts today, and hopefully, it’s not just a one-day thing. But having had a lot of experience with my brain’s faulty wiring, I am also very well aware that this could easily just be a one-day bounce-back and tomorrow I will be down in the pit of despair again. Ah, the delightful rollercoaster of faulty brain wiring.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Be warned, there’s more blatant self-promotion coming your way relatively soon.

Signs

It feels very weird this morning to be getting up so early after having a work-at-home day yesterday. I slept really well last night–I did have a martini with a friend late afternoon yesterday, which was absolutely marvelous. Paul got home late last night–another grant, as always–and so after I got home after my martini (which are really quite marvelous drinks, frankly) I collapsed into my easy chair and started watching Young Justice again, after getting caught up on Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, which has replaced The Daily Show as my source of news served up with a touch of humor. His piece on the buying and selling of our online data was superb–scary, yet superb.

But I entered data yesterday and made condom packs while watching some gay cultural history videos on Youtube, which I am enjoying. I’ve also been thinking a lot about writing and what I need to get done–thinking about it counts as writing, by the way, and if you don’t think so, don’t make me come for you BECAUSE OH FUCKING HELL YES IT DOES. I need to get to work on that story when I have time this week–it has to be finished before Edgar Week, which is coming up pretty quickly in the sideview mirror–and I want to start writing a first draft of a manuscript. I think I am going to push Chlorine back another month–sorry, Nikki–and try to get the first draft of another gay noir thriller written; whether or not I will remains to be seen, but I’d really like to get a first draft of the three books done over the next three months. Is it potentially overly ambitious? Of course it is, we’re talking writing, at minimum, at least one hundred and twenty thousand words in three months, but it’s also eminently do-able, as long as I stay focused and don’t allow other things to interfere or distract me; which is always an issue for me. (Look! a squirrel!) But I am starting to feel rested again… which is really nice. I have to go into the office again tomorrow–four days a week now–but at least I don’t have to get up at six to go in tomorrow. Yay? And I do think I am going to stay at home Monday of next week–decisions, decisions; which is the best day of the week for me to work from home, Monday or Friday? Heavy heaving sigh.

I hope to finish Catriona McPherson’s A Gingerbread House this evening; so I can be prepared to move on to the next one. Please don’t think I’m not enjoying this book–I am–simply because I’ve not finished it yet. It’s quite good, and you really should be reading Catriona’s work if you aren’t already, Constant Reader, and if you ever get the opportunity to listen to her speak, jump at it. She’s quite amusing, and her Scots accent is something I could listen to all day. Her Guest of Honor speech at the Lefty Awards banquet was quite epic and enjoyable; and she’s also a very talented (and hard working) writer. I’ve certainly enjoyed everything of hers that I’ve read….the good news is also that she’s incredibly prolific; at least two books a year. I hope I live long enough to retire because I hope that once I do, I can get caught up on all of the books I am so far behind on reading.

Oh my GOD, that TBR stack is terrifying.

I’m trying to decide what time to come into the office for my final in-the-office day of the week, There is something to be said for getting up early, coming in and getting it over with–as well as beating traffic on the way home, and coming in early means it’s easier to find a place to park, always a plus, you know. (There are few things I despise more than trying to find a place to park.) I am really looking forward to this weekend, to be honest; I keep finding more chores around the house and there’s also this strange mentality I have that I will actually write this weekend around everything else I have to do. Is it possible? Anything is possible, really. Is it likely? That remains to be seen.

It rained last night–heavily; we had some massive thunderstorms sometime during the night after I went to bed,. The thunder woke me up very briefly, and then I just went back to sleep. I don’t think there were any tornadoes or anything–my phone’s warning system certainly didn’t go off, or I slept through it, one or the other. But I am not seeing any doom-and-gloom on local news websites this morning, so I guess we dodged another one last night. It was humid AF yesterday–it’s amazing to me how every year, like clockwork, the humidity returns and every single time it catches me off guard. (To be fair, the real humidity doesn’t really clock in until late May, but the heat starts much sooner, and it’s already getting there.) I am not looking forward to the higher power bills of the dog days of summer (and why are they called that? Dog days? I mean, I know three dog night is an old Aussie saying for nights so cold you need three dogs in the bed to keep you warm, but where did ‘dog days of summer’ come from?) and the steaming humidity, but there are, indeed worse things. And I think our new system kept the bills down pretty well last summer, which was quite nice indeed. So, here’s to a sort of bearable summer if I don’t spend much time outside? Huzzah?

And on that note, it is off to the spice mines for me. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

This is Todd Sanfield, former fitness model who now has his own underwear/swimwear business! Check it out at https://www.toddsanfield.com/–he’s also the model for his website.