Tag: Life

I Love the Nightlife

I also love to boogie–especially in the disco round, oh yeah, baby.

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment after kind of a nice, slow and easy day around here. Paul stayed up late working so pretty much slept the entire day away again, and I myself got up late yesterday, too. I didn’t mind, even though I was a little perturbed that I got up so late. But I had a nice morning. I did some things I needed to do and cleaned and organized some more, and I got up pretty early this morning, too. I don’t know how motivated I feel today, but I am hopefully going to get some good writing work done this morning so I can spend the afternoon reading. Sounds like a winner to me. We did finish catching up with Reacher, Abbott Elementary, and Prime Target last night, too. Tomorrow I get to report to Criminal Court for jury duty in Mid-city, so I will be finding out what’s going on with that. I’m hoping to be dismissed before parade days start; I’d rather go to the office and leave early than try to get home at five from Criminal Court in Midcity, which would probably require taking I-10/90, getting off at Tchoupitoulas, and doubling back from there with no place to park. Ah, well, this too shall pass, and as a crime writer, it’s always interesting to see how criminal court–or courts in general–operate up close and personal.

It’s gray outside, and rain is expected, which should put a damper on any and all parades today. There are no night parades, so technically I could make a grocery run after King Arthur ends, but I doubt I’ll want to be out and about at that time anyway. I do have all kinds of things to do today–I want to spend the morning writing and the afternoon reading, if at all possible. It’s always so nice to curl up in my chair with a blanket and read while it’s raining, you know? I like feeling snug and cozy; which is why I am so particular about sleep arrangements. Want to know something weird about me? I sleep with four blankets, because that’s enough weight to make me feel snug and comfortable. I have a soft wool one on the bottom and one really velvety soft one on the top. I need two pillows, always, and also need the ceiling fan on and a little personal fan on my nightstand going. Weird? Just a little bit. But I think we all have things that we do, little rituals, that bring us comfort and joy. Just me? Probably. I always default to me not being normal, I suppose; the product of my youth. Thanks, bully trash!

I did work on an essay yesterday a bit, one called “Try That in a Small Town.” I started writing it when the Jason Aldean nonsense happened last summer, because that “real America” bullshit has always, always pissed me off; and essentially has always been used to demonize cities–you know, the economic engines that fucking drive the country–and reassure provincial types who stay in rural areas that they are more important than the city dwellers. This of course goes back to the lies that were always told to encourage immigration when white people felt the need to “fill the continent” with white people while exterminating the natives. You can be free, you can own land and property, you can prosper because the government will leave you alone to do as you please and not restrict your freedoms. No, the rich people needed more consumers, and they also needed population in the “empty” territories to produce and buy. The United States has always been expansionist; even the Founding Fathers assumed more states would be formed out of native land, after they were pushed out. Anyway, I actually lived in a very small town in a very rural county in an underpopulated state for five horrible years–and I will dispute to my dying breath this notion that small towns are the “real America” (fuck you again and again with razor wire, Sarah Palin)…because everyone acts like they’re like Mayberry when they are really Peyton Place–horribly judgmental with lots of cruel gossip and backstabbing, and the sexual perversions of these “good meat-and-potatoes Americans” not even Grace Metalious could have dreamed up–and Peyton Place was nothing more than a novelization of things she witnessed and experienced in a small town. It always infuriates me, you know, to hear this “real America” shit. Try to make it without Chicago, New York, LA, Boston, and San Francisco. The fucking economy would crater in about two seconds. But…cities are usually Democratic strongholds, so they must be demonized, always.

And there’s the rain! I knew it was coming. It’s just a drizzle but it’s enough for the gutter to drip water on the cat enclosure just outside my laundry room–and it’s only raining on that side of the house. This happens here a lot–it can be raining on one block but not the next; one part of the city can be getting a flooding rain while it’s sunny and bright in another–but I don’t remember the last time it only rained on the other side of the house. New Orleans, always so bizarre.

It also seems that the American people are getting fed up with what’s going on in Washington, and they are starting to push back. I’ve progressed beyond FAFO, to be honest1; the danger to the country’s future is that strong that the mocking and pointing fingers and laughing and atonement can come after the threat has been overcome. I think this is the kind of lesson we needed to learn; we’ve always taken our system for granted and always assumed the government was stable and would hold–forever smug about governments toppling and falling in other countries while we remained stable. The problem is that stability was only achieved through horrific compromises…and human rights should never, ever, under any circumstance, be left to public or government whim. The seeds of self-destruction were planted in the Constitution with the compromise on enslavement. Senators used to be appointed by state legislatures, not the people. BUT it was also designed to be a living document, changed and amended over time to clear up inconsistencies and always, always, intended to protect the people from government overreach. I also agree with something I saw on social media yesterday–every elected official should be required to have regular town halls to meet with their constituents, and they also need to remember they were voted in to work for their district, not the president. Separate but equal branches of government means nothing when elected officials in Congress abdicate their roles for whatever reason.

And really, what is MAGA but the modern Confederacy? Yes, they are also Nazis…but remember–the Germans learned about how to deal with undesirable sub-populations by studying enslavement and Jim Crow. There’s your heritage, rednecks. You were Hitler’s blueprint. And weren’t plantations simply concentration/work camps with a nicer name?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning (or night).

  1. I’ve not, and never will, forgive MAGA voters, to be sure–just like I’ll never stop mentally dancing and pissing on Ronald and Nancy Reagan’s graves. But I can put that aside for now to overcome this threat. But there needs to be a reckoning–unlike after the Civil War and 1/6/20. ↩︎

(Our Love) Don’t Throw It All Away

A cold Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. My doctor’s appointment went well–all my vitals were at appropriate levels, my lungs are clear, and all medications appear to be working properly, which is lovely. I came home from that appointment to do chores and make the house orderly before we headed out to Metairie for Paul’s appointment, after which we went to Costco. You know, for the first Friday of parade season, it wasn’t that terrible. It was crowded, yes, and there were times I had to wait for inconsiderate assholes who were blocking aisles thoughtlessly (a regular occurrence at the grocery store, a rarity for Costco) and the check out lines ferociously long, but it didn’t take us long to spend a shit load of money (Paul also ordered a new pair of glasses and our membership was also due for renewal). I was a bit concerned about parking when we got back, as it was closer to parade rolling time that I was comfortable with. I had noticed there were a lot of cars parking in the neighborhood–unusual–when I left for my appointment, and there was also a lot more traffic on the roads I usually traverse. Understandably, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to park within a mile of the house, but once we departed for Metairie/Costco I realized why everything was the way it was–they’ve turned the side of St. Charles people can drive down1 while parades are rolling into an obstacle course2. This is, I imagine, for crowd safety precautions after New Year’s, but damn…it’s going to make negotiating St. Charles and the neighborhood about ten times harder than it is usually is.

Thanks, asshole terrorist. I hope you’re roasting in hell like you deserve.

I also spent some time with Lev AC Rosen’s marvelous The Bell in the Fog, the second book in his Andy Mills detective series set in early 1950’s San Francisco. It’s an interesting period to read about: after the war but before Stonewall, when sodomy was still an enforceable crime and the hatred of queer people was so intense they were targeted mercilessly and no one fucking cared.3 Lev is a terrific writer–I loved Lavender House–and this one starts out really well. It’s very reminiscent of the old masters of crime/noir/hardboiled–Hammett, Chandler, Cain–which is why he gets nominated for awards so regularly.

I also have apparently sold another short story. I had sent something to an anthology at some point last year and completely forgot about it, to be honest; yesterday I got an apologetic email from (I guess? It has been a while) the editor saying they want it if it’s still available. That was a lovely bit of news, to go along with the terrific feedback from the other anthology that asked me for one. I am going to finish writing another one this weekend (if it kills me) so I can focus on finishing my book. I’d forgotten–as it has been a hot minute–how nice it is to get positive feedback from peers. And rather than questioning or explaining it away in my head (just being nice, etc etc), I decided to accept it and feel good about it, which is a lovely new approach to my career. In the moments when I allow myself to go down the natural path of current events (my publisher will get shut down, my books removed from the bookseller websites–it galls me that they’re on Target’s website, although they probably make very little me off me–and my career shut down completely in the de-queering of the country), I find it ironic that my stress, anxiety and depression didn’t allow me to ever enjoy my career very often, and that now I am finally beginning to enjoy myself and the nicer side of publishing/writing, it could all be stripped away from me. (For the record, straight people, losing our writing careers because of our sexual identity is something we have to think about all the time. Do you? So, fuck off with your I’m-an-ally-as-long-as-it’s-just-words-online bullshit. DO SOMETHING.)

But yes, I am feeling like I definitely need to get back to producing work, and that feels good for a change, you know?

Sparky also let me sleep late this morning, the little darling, and even curled up in the bed with me rather than trying to get me up. I think he waits for my alarm like Pavlov’s dog; I’ve trained him to react to the sound as well as his stomach. We watched LSU Gymnastics win at Kentucky last night, but they didn’t have a great meet–a bit of a letdown after defeating Oklahoma last week in Baton Rouge and a packed house–but it was fine; they hadn’t won in Lexington since 2016, and this year they did despite a bad meet. We then watched the premiere episode of Season Three of Reacher, which is based on one of my favorite Reacher novels, and am loving it. (I also like that his portrayer, Alan Ritchson–whom I’ve liked since I first noticed him on Smallville–is a devout Christian and not a cosplay one; he calls out the evangelicals and their false prophet regularly. He recently gave an interview to GQ in which he talked about Matt Gaetz, whom he went to high school with, and just ripped him to fucking shreds. You see? I don’t object to Christianity when people actually are real Christians.) We also watched some Arrested Development, too, before going to bed much later than we should have.

Overall, Friday was a pretty good day. I am going to get some reading and writing and cleaning done today–I need to unload the dishwasher and refill it at some point; and there’s always organizing and cleaning to get done. I also need to answer emails–I no longer have to stick to my old rule of “no emails on the weekend”–and I need to get some more newsletters written and finished to send. I’m trying hard to not deluge people with my newsletter; I am very prolific, as has been pointed out in the past repeatedly, and who wants to read my thoughts, views, and opinions on a daily basis? Even though I didn’t publish anything–not even a short story last year–I still produce a prodigious amount of writing all the time.

And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines–more accurately, I am going to repair to my easy chair with my book for a while before I actually start getting things done around here–and I may be back later. I am trying not to do more than one post here per day…but anyway, have a lovely Saturday, and I’ll be right back here tomorrow.

Screenshot
  1. I’ve always marveled that one side of the neutral ground is for the parades and the other side is open to traffic heading uptown. St. Charles is a major artery of the city, and they usually have to keep that side open because everything inside the parade is blocked off–and people do need to get uptown. Not really sure how this obstacle course drivers need to negotiate will work, or if they are going to take them down every night and put them back up again before the parades start–which means shutting St. Charles down for however long it takes to set up. Sigh. ↩︎
  2. I’ll try to get a picture of it at some point. ↩︎
  3. Straight people have always been awful, and the white ones the worst of all. ↩︎

Every 1’s a Winner

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Tomorrow is my usual remote day, but I have a couple of doctors appointments so I am taking the day off. I was right about being tired; by the end of the day I was so tired I thought I might fall asleep driving home! But I didn’t, and I got the mail and came home and got inside safely, locking the door and the cold outside. It’s very cold this morning, too (currently a toasty 31 degrees!). We watched some Arrested Development last night, and I did some work on my writing. I got some welcome feedback on a short story I wrote for an anthology, which was also very nice. I slept very well last night, too–the cold, I think, played a part in that as well as my physical exhaustion when I got home last night. I even did some chores last night, which was very pleasing. I have an errand to run on the way home from work tonight, and once I get home from the appointments tomorrow, I’ll be in for the rest of this very cold weekend in New Orleans, and buckling down and writing. The parades also start this weekend, so I need to be very judicious in my parade attendance so I can get some writing done. I am feeling more into my writing than I have in a very long time, so that is very cool and kind of exciting to me. I was terribly concerned over the last two years that I’d never write anything again. I think that the combination of everything else going on, in my life and in the world, along with severe burnout, was why I was struggling to write, and when the depression is mixed in, well, it’s no wonder I was uninterested in writing anything and couldn’t get anything done.

Definitely wearing layers today, too. The apartment is warm, but here at my desk? Not so much, really. But I am so grateful for last night’s sleep! I actually am awake and alert and not foggy in the least. It feels good to feel like I’m totally present, which I didn’t feel like the first part of this week. God, sleep is the best, isn’t it? I feel like today is a day when I can get things done and function and get my entire act together for a change. Hopefully, this feeling will last me for a while. I guess the trip last weekend required some readjusting back into my life–it’s weird how something like that can be so disruptive once you’ve settled into a routine (rut, whatever) with your life, isn’t it? But I am also in a very good mood this morning, and I’ve kind of been too tired lately for that to be a thing, you know? And definitely plan on riding this wave as long as it lasts–it’ll probably crest this afternoon. I do have some chores I need to do once I am back home, and of course, back to the store today on the way home (thank God for CBD Rouse’s, so I don’t have to go the long way uptown).

IN my tired state last night (and after being scolded/lectured by two trolls on social media, whom I made very sorry that they emerged from under their bridge) I was thinking about things–going to Alabama always makes me think about things from the past, plus all that 70’s research I’ve been doing lately–and I was remembering, with Sparky curled up in my lap, how different life is now from when I was a child. (Shocking, right? Who knew that I’d go through the same things every other older person has throughout history!) I was talking to Dad about Mom and her mother and what things were like for Mom growing up (Dad always talks about how great Mom was and how she never complained, despite how poor they were when they were first married; I replied, “Yeah, that apartment in Chicago might have been tiny but she had running water and a telephone, so that probably seemed like a step up. She didn’t know any better.”), and of course that led into how Mom and her mother never, ever reminisced or thought about the past…and I said “Well, it’s also kind of weird to think when my grandmother was born the Archduke hadn’t been assassinated yet and Europe was dominated by monarchies and empires”…which tripped him out a little. And she had older relatives who’d seen the Civil War. I was born during JFK’s presidency, before Vietnam and in the midst of the civil rights movement. Women couldn’t have credit in their own names and were erased as people, assuming their husband’s name legally as “Mrs. John Smith” rather than as “Lisa Smith.” There was no such thing as no-fault divorce, and the grim reality was most women made their hellish marriages work, dooming them to a life of misery.

Our country really hasn’t been around that long, and neither has our progress toward the ideals of the founding–we’ve never achieved that original ideal, and now we are sliding back into the abyss as a tyrant is in charge (Reagan could only dream of the power the FOTUS has assumed and been gifted by his craven political party) and our constitutional republic is on the ropes. I also have realized over the last week that the only people who can save the country from this threat is the opposition–the courts aren’t going to do it, Congress sure as hell isn’t, the media is laughably unconvincing propaganda-pushers with no desire to do their jobs properly, and neither are the “all-in” party that supports this. I no longer subscribe to the notion that MAGA voters and politicians have been “fooled” somehow, conned…at this point, we just need to accept the fact that they are willing participants–all of them. They can’t say they didn’t know because he told them, for years, what he wanted to do and they cheered, so yeah–I have no empathy for any of them. I don’t believe there’s such a thing as “MAGA regret” because I will personally guarantee that if the election were done over and held again tomorrow, every last one of them would vote for him again despite what they now know.

There can be no forgiveness without atonement and true repentance–that should be the lesson of the Civil War.

Well, this turned into a rather lengthier tome than anything else I’ve done on here this week, hasn’t it? That’s a good sign I am going to take with me into the spice mines for today. Have a great Thursday, everyone, and stay warm!

Rock ‘n’ Roll Fantasy

Wednesday and we made it to midweek. I am tired this morning–I tossed and turned all night yet again last night, and I’ve also been having heartburn1 lately, too, despite the medications I take for each–but this morning I don’t seem to have the heartburn problem, at least for now, and I’ll take it. I have things to do today, too, that definitely need to be done. I got one of them done already. I am tired physically this morning and my brain is a little spacy this morning, but that should clear with some more coffee and writing this.

It started sprinkling last night, and after the rain clears up today we’re having lower temperatures and high winds. It’s going to get close to freezing again down here, so it’s going to be another pipe issue weekend. Not for us, but definitely around southeastern Louisiana for sure. I don’t mind, as I don’t think I really need to leave the house all that much this weekend–it’s nice to be warm and toasty inside while it’s horrifically cold outside–but I definitely need to work this weekend. I did work on my short story yesterday and got about 1500 or so words down, so hopefully I can get that done this week as well as get back into writing the book again.

Parades supposedly start this weekend, but it’s supposed to be cold and rainy all weekend, so I am not sure if I’ll be going down to the corner at all this weekend, other than for King Arthur on Sunday, which is the unofficial queer parade. I always get lots of stuff at King Arthur.

I had wine and appetizers (truffle fries, yum) with a friend in from out of town last night, which was fun. I walked to meet her at Gris-Gris, but it was closed, so we walked over to St. Vincent’s and sat in their bar. It was drizzling last night, giving the city that weird sky glow we get when it’s raining (all the lights and neon reflecting back), and there was kind of a fun noir, opening scene of Mildred Pierce (with Joan Crawford walking out onto the pier in her mink) feel to the early evening. It’s always fun to talk to another writer, you know? One of the things I miss is having local writer friends that I see periodically. Emails aren’t the same thing, you know? (Mine are always far longer than they need to be, and probably don’t get read all the way through.)

Okay, I think I’m going to head into the spice mines. Sorry I’ve been so dull lately, but here’s hoping I’ll get interesting again relatively soon!

  1. And this morning, I figured this out when I went to take my pills and noticed…I hadn’t put my acid reflux medications in the pill sorter. So, I’ve not taken it since Sunday morning. Duh. ↩︎

Take Me Home

Tuesday morning and we made it through Monday. I was correct; after running errands yesterday I was very tired when I got home from work. I spent some time with Sparky and did some chores, but overall, didn’t do a lot once I got home. We did watch some Arrested Development, too, before I went to bed. It’s very cold again this morning, but I’ll just wear layers to work and it’s also super cool that I came home to a warm apartment yesterday (as opposed to how it felt when I got up yesterday morning in the bitter, bitter cold–okay, maybe I was the bitter one and not the cold). Tonight I have to get the mail on the way home, before settling in to get my chores done and maybe do some reading and writing. I feel like I’ve already acclimated back into my regular life, but it’s also still relatively early in the week. There’s no telling how I will feel by Thursday. And next week is jury duty, and this weekend is not only parades but rain, so not sure how that is going to go at all for parade season.

I did breakthrough yesterday on something I’m working on with a bunch of other writers (to be honest, I’ve done very little thus far and have basically been one of those who came along for the ride) and did the things I was supposed to have been doing mostly yesterday, and must say I was very pleased with the result. Huzzah! I felt very accomplished, I have to say; that’s been hanging over my head for months, and I’ve certainly been checked out since the election. I’m not sure that I’m checking back in completely–it’s kind of been nice staying insular in my own little world these past few months–and I do think, going forward, that some of the decisions I’ve made about my peace and peace of mind are going to be a definitive priority in my life. I don’t need people upsetting me and/or pissing me off, and the methodology I use for social media now–annoy me and you’re blocked–is going to be the foundation for dealing with people from now on. I used to let things slide with people, and it’s definitely worn me down and out with those folks…because they always get worse. So, yeah–no more Mr. Nice Gay.

And I am finished apologizing to other people for not living up to their expectations. That is your problem, and it’s never going to be mine. I disappointed you? That’s on you.

Just like I got tired of people telling me, in excruciating detail, of what a bad person I am and a terrible friend. Well, I never claimed to be anything other than who I am. You don’t like it? I don’t give a fuck.

We’ll see how long that lasts, won’t we?

Probably not long. I think sometimes I might have too much empathy? I mean, I feel bad for fictional characters that don’t exist, too.

But I am going to try to not let the bastards get me down, and I feel like the best way for me to fight back, given my old age, is to write. Writing is activism, and always should be. Writers have changed the world for the better–the writings of French philosophers about the ancien regime and its abuses eventually led to the French Revolution; Marx and Lenin also wrote manifestos; and that’s not taking into consideration all the writers who opposed tyranny and wrote about freedom and justice led to our own revolution–and the Civil War. I am not a journalist nor a political scientist nor a historian, but I’ve read enough history and followed politics (and the combination of the two) over the course of my life to understand where all this bullshit we’re dealing with originally came from1, and while I am certain, better analysis of things would come from experts in that field…but I can write about them as a citizen, what I think about these issues and why, can’t I?

And I could never be as entirely wrong about everything as MAGAs and Andrew Sullivan.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here again tomorrow morning.

  1. Helpful hint: remember how Hilary Rodham Clinton was mocked for talking about a “vast right-wing conspiracy” in the 1990s? Once again, she was right–and had people listened to her maybe we wouldn’t be where we are, here today. ↩︎

Shake It

Wednesday Pay-the-Bills morning, and hopefully I won’t be as tired today as I was yesterday. I feel like I slept really well last night, and I don’t feel either tired or foggy-brained this morning. Since I’m driving tomorrow to Alabama after work, I am very relieved to have slept well. There really is nothing like a good night’s sleep, is there? I made it home from work in one piece, worked on some chores for a while, and then collapsed into my easy chair to watch more episodes of Arrested Development (we were only going to watch one, and turned it off after three). It feels good to laugh, you know? I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a good belly laugh, you know? But my word, I was tired when my raggedy ass dragged itself into the Lost Apartment. It’s been a hot minute since I was that tired.

I was tired all day yesterday after the shock of waking up to no power1 and no coffee and thus no usual morning routine before work. I don’t usually drink the coffee at work (I have some at home, and then bring another cup with me to work that I drink the rest of the morning), but did yesterday and yes, it was just as bad as I anticipated it would be, and only could choke down two cups of it. The end result was under-caffeination, plus I couldn’t really fall back asleep after waking at four thirty, knowing I might sleep through since my alarm wasn’t going to go off. AUGH. But I persevered and persisted, and managed to make it home in one piece. I did start the laundry, and tonight I’ll have to pack since I am leaving work early to head north on 59. I’m looking forward to seeing Dad again, and it’s always a bit weird (and inspiring) to spend time up there where we’re from. I don’t think I’m going to write another Alabama book for a while–I have several others in queue waiting to be written–but there are short stories and other things that can be written until I’m ready for the next Alabama book. Even the short story I am working on is an Alabama story. I have to run errands on the way home tonight, do some chores when I do get home, and I also have to pack.

They caught Scrim!

For those of you who don’t know Scrim, he’s a rescue dog that caught everyone in New Orleans’ fancy when he escaped the first time, going on the run for months. There was even a Facebook group for updates and sightings; it was the kind of fun thing that will capture everyone’s attention. Everyone was delighted when the adorable little scamp was caught that first time–but he escaped again less than a week later, only to finally be caught again yesterday morning. You can read more about him here. I definitely have to write Scrim into a Scotty book–and if not Scrim, a similar, but fictional, escape artist puppy. There’s literally so much material here; I don’t know how anyone writing about New Orleans could ever run out of things to say about this marvelous magical city. I do think New Orleans won the Super Bowl; everyone seemed to have a great time, and I actually really appreciated the focus on New Orleans artists. The pregame and halftime shows, which I’ve now viewed on Youtube, definitely made a statement–but I fear that should another hurricane disaster occur here while it is still president he won’t authorize aid or help for us because New Orleans represents everything he hates: majority Black, majority vote for Democrats in ever election (and it’s not even remotely close), and now we put on a show for him that he didn’t like? Yeah, he hates our city now, guaranteed. Hopefully it means he’ll never come back here, praise Jesus, but it doesn’t bode well for disaster relief in the future…but I am glad we didn’t buckle under and obey in advance like so many quislings are doing.

I also have to pick a book to listen to in the car. Maybe the latest Carol Goodman? The Lev Rosen I started reading? I guess I could check what I have on audio and haven’t listened to yet–turns out there’s a lot there, including some short ones. If I don’t finish the second one I listen to (if I go with two shorter ones) I can finish while cleaning or something. I don’t know, but I will figure it out. Decisions, decisions. I am also hoping to stop at Whataburger in Tuscaloosa on the way, too. Ah, I am so easy to please, aren’t I?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday and I will check in with you again later.

  1. Yes, a minor inconvenience that I treat like a war crime; well aware. ↩︎

I Was Made for Lovin’ You

Super Bowl Sunday, for those who celebrate (we will not be) and for those who do not, Happy Sunday otherwise. I slept in this morning, and am not entirely sure why. Yesterday was a decent and easy day around here (I was terribly lazy, despite all my pronouncements to the contrary in yesterday’s morning’s post), but I didn’t get my errands ran because…Super Bowl. Traffic in Uptown was horrendous–turns out I was trying to run my errands during the Super Bowl faux-Carnival parade–and so after successfully completing one errands, I called off the rest and came back home. I did finish reading She Who Was No More (more on that later) and we started watching Arrested Development finally, and we are absolutely loving it–and it should keep us entertained for a while. I’m glad we never got to it before, because these times need comedies, and more of them, frankly.

I am not leaving the house today because of the Super Bowl, and I hope to make it down my to-do list this morning so I can, you know, get some of that shit done. It’s going to be a hectic week; I am only working a half-day on Thursday so I can drive up to Alabama for Valentine’s to meet Dad (a short trip; up Thursday afternoon and back Saturday morning), which of course means I won’t get much done next weekend–although I reckon I could take my grocery list with me and stop to make groceries on the way back into town Saturday. At least there are no parades this coming weekend to negotiate on my way home. Sigh. It’s about that time of year, too, and complicated even further with my goddamned jury duty the last week of the month. Hurray!

Ah, well, no sense in getting overwhelmed and off-track. That is not going to help me get everything done that I need to get done today, now is it? I’ve picked Lev AC Rosen’s The Bell in the Fog as my next read, and when I get this finished and some other tasks here in the kitchen this morning, I am going to go read it for a while. I really enjoyed Lavender House, the first book in this series, and I love that he and John Copenhaver are exploring what it was like to be queer in the 1950s. Since one of my future projects is also set in that time period, reading their work is not only intimidating but also a bit inspired; they’re so good it will push me to really make mine the best I possibly can–and it will still not hold up against theirs. (You never can write enough books to get over Imposter Syndrome; I think it even affects the bigger names from time to time. I guess I won’t know since I’ll never have that kind of career–which is fine. Yes, huge financial success would be lovely, but it’s not necessary. I am satisfied with my career and the work I’ve done so far…which really has all come about because I’ve just refused to stop doing it. Smarter people would have quit by now, I am sure.)

But I also need to stop being so hard on myself. My job changed, too, during the time of the surgery and the aftermath, and it’s actually become more intensive, too. Dealing with clients is draining, and so it’s not really surprising that my batteries are so often depleted after I get off work, and there’s always an errand or something to run on my way home, too. Plus, it’s not my natural body clock to get up at six in the morning every day I have to go to work, either. (I really miss the days of not going in until eleven.) I’m older, have been through some things physically these last five or so years, and so it’s not surprising that some nights I just don’t have the energy to do anything other than cuddle with Sparky and sit in my chair watching the latest in our mad dash to the end times. I really miss the days when the news wasn’t always a dumpster fire…but on the other hand, I can’t actually remember a time when it wasn’t. I just didn’t pay attention because I was a child.

And I think there’s my hint to jump over to the spice mines, so have a lovely Sunday, best of luck to those of you watching the Super Bowl (I will not be), and I’ll be back later on, I would imagine.

Time Passages

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and it’s Super Bowl Eve; aka a mere forty-eight hours or so before New Orleans gets back to what usually passes for normal around here. Sparky got me up early this morning, but after a sluggish start I did get up and now, after my first cup of coffee, am starting to wake up. I did sleep well again last night, which was lovely–it’s always lovely to sleep on freshly laundered bedding–and after I finished my remote work duties yesterday, spent the rest of the doing more cleaning and organizing and did some writing. This morning I have some things to do around here as far as cleaning and organizing are concerned, and a couple of errands to do this afternoon, and then it’s back to the safety of the Lost Apartment for the rest of this Super Bowl weekend. I have literally zero interest in the Super Bowl; the removal of the end racism from the end zones by the NFL–an organization that makes the majority of its money off the bodies of Black athletes–is the kind of capitulation to tyranny one can expect from the ultra-rich. They’re getting their tax cuts, and their money is more important to them than anything else. I think that an oligarchy was always a danger to a capitalist system; the great irony is that was the preachings of false prophet and disgusting hypocrite Ayn Rand; it is impossible for ethical conduct in a country that prioritizes the dollar above all else. Capitalism has even infected Christianity, but that religion has been a rotting hulk for centuries already by prioritizing political and earthly power over spiritual.

It really is lovely having a working garbage disposal and a clean apartment; Paul and I even talked about how weird it is that such a little thing makes such a difference. The plumber also fixed the sinks so they drain properly and repaired the bathtub faucet so it no longer leaks, and just those little changes make such a huge difference. My kitchen is galley style, so counter space can be pretty limited, with the Keurig, the microwave, and my computer printer on the counters. The garbage disposal not working also meant the dishwasher didn’t drain, so I couldn’t use it–nor could I let anything go down the drain with the disposal because it would wind up backing up into the dishwasher. So, I needed counter space for the dishes to dry, and I needed to fill a stockpot with hot water to rinse the soap off them when I washed the dishes, cutting down on counter space because I had to put a beach towel down for them to dry on. This snowballed, made me feel like the apartment was getting smaller and closing in, and that it was pointless to even try to keep the house neat because it didn’t take very much for it to look like a disaster.

But finally–we’re getting it back together and it feels quite marvelous, in all honesty, to come downstairs to a clean, empty sink and nothing on the counters.

It’s been in the upper seventies/low eighties this entire week–which says everything about New Orleans weather; just a few weeks ago we had a blizzard and the city shut down for like three days–but here we are, having great weather for all the tourists here for the Super Bowl, which I am not going to watch. We did watch LSU Gymnastics defeat Alabama last night, and after that we watched this week’s Prime Target, which we are really enjoying–but we should have waited until we could binge it, as my short term memory problems mean I easily lose the plot thread from week to week. I hate losing my short term memory like this, but what else am I going to do but deal with it and come up with work-arounds? (LOL, I am realizing now that I have anxiety medications that my life has always been about finding work-arounds!) But I am feeling better these days, and here’s hoping that will continue as we move forward and despite the dumpster fire the country is gradually turning into. Thanks again, MAGA voters! But today I am going to clean and write and run my errands and try to finish reading my book and get things checked off my to-do list. I’m hoping for a good day, like yesterday was, and I don’t think that’s a whole lot to ask, you know?

And now I am taking my coffee and my peanut butter toast to the easy chair to read for a couple of hours. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back, either later or tomorrow.

Got to Be Real

Work at home Friday, and I have two on-line meetings today and some simple quality assurance and trainings to do. Woo-hoo! Yesterday wasn’t too bad, despite me being so damned tired. I was exhausted by the end of the day, as I suspected I would be, but I wasn’t crabby from being tired, either. I took I-10 home (I’ve been doing that lately and despite the traffic back up on the ramp to 90 and the bridge, it’s been fine) and dragged myself inside where i promptly let Sparky climb me and ride on my shoulders while purring and rubbing his head against my face (which does get awkward as I change out of my work drag), which is lovely. I did come home to a NEW garbage disposal; did I mention yesterday that we cleaned Wednesday night because, well, the house was a disaster area to the point we didn’t want our plumber–who’s been our plumber for over twenty years now–to see it? It was nice to come home to a clean apartment, just as it was nice to get up to one yesterday (and this) morning. I’ve really let the house get out of control, and I feel like now that we’ve got this deep start on it, it’ll be easier to finish what’s left and then maintain it. High hopes, y’all, I got high hopes again on a micro personal level. I even made a to-do list for the weekend. I know, right? Who am I and what have I done with Gregalicious?

And there are few things I love more than cleaning and writing at the same time. It’s a sickness, I know. But it is my happy place. I actually daydreamed last night as I caught up on the End Times (which is what I call the news now) about how much better my life will be with a working garbage disposal again and realized, with not even a pang, that I actually like being able to find so much happiness is getting a household appliance operating again. That will dramatically help keep the kitchen clean (see? I really went deep down that rabbit hole), because it means I can also use the dishwasher again (I don’t understand this, but I don’t need to–it just is) which means…washing dirty dishes off and loading them into the dishwasher to run once it becomes full. It’s weird how things like that please me, make me feel contented, and settled. Paul and I did talk about that a bit (before I finished watching the reunions of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City); that since the world is being such a dumpster fire and every day brings a new barrage on our intellects and senses, what need to do is go back to thinking about the apartment the way we did when we were able to move back in after Katrina–our safe space, a comfortable and quiet place where we can get away from the insanity and shut the outside world off and withdraw into a bubble. Our haven, as it were. And even now, with things still needing to be worked on and put away or taken to the dumpster, it looks so nice and clean and different, so better, than it has in a long time and I’m so pleased.

And with the Super Bowl this weekend, who wants to leave the house? No thank you. I’ll go uptown to run some errands, but downtown? No fucking thank you. I don’t want to be around crowds unless catching beads is involved. I think there’s a Super Bowl parade today for the visitors, but…I don’t know. I’m glad they get a taste of what our parades are like, but it’s still not quite the same as standing on the sidewalks of St. Charles Avenue on a crisply warm evening with the sky so dark blue it’s black, the glow of streetlights casting flickering shadows as people dance to the music of a marching band and wave their hands in the air while masked riders toss some beads to the waiting gleeful celebrating hordes of the unwashed1.

I also want to get my email inbox cleared out. I also think I need to send some emails to people I’ve not touched base with in a while. Not to worry, I still intend to spend most of my time in isolation like an anchorite (which would be a good title, wouldn’t it? Anchorite, by Greg Herren. I actually like the sound of that), but it doesn’t hurt to have contact with people that I do actually like and care about. Make sure they’re still alive, you know? I still need to get some things worked out within my life and my schedule and the barely contained or controlled chaos of my existence. I’ve got to get this exercise thing back into swing, and I need to start working on trying to eat a bit more healthier. I hope to finish reading She Who Was No More this weekend, and then I am going to get to pick out another new read. I also get to pick out something to listen to in the car on the way to and from Alabama next weekend (not sure how much I’ll be posting from up there, but it’s only a quick trip and back. I am very grateful I live that close to where we’re from; I could not make trips to Kentucky with great regularity), but I always like something Gothic and fun in the car. I know I’ve got a lot of titles built up on Audible; I’ll have to look through and see what sounds fun.

Look at me, making plans and shit, looking forward to a future. I guess there’s no point in letting myself burn down with the rest of the world. I got up earlier than usual this morning (before seven; Sparky was hungry and would not be denied) and I feel pretty good, to be honest. My coffee is going down well, I feel rested and alert, and here’s hoping I’m going to have a great day.

And on that optimistic note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later; if not, tomorrow morning.

Gorgeous young Spanish actor/singer Manu Rios. I’ve had a crush on him since he played chaos gay Patrick on Elite.
  1. I count myself as one of the unwashed; I’ve never ridden and I don’t think I would ever want to. I’m not sure why that is, but I’ve never really wanted to belong to a krewe and go to a ball and ride in a parade. ↩︎

I Just Fall in Love Again

Thursday morning and my last day in the office this week, praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. I was tired yesterday, but I did get some writing done last night. I finished the revision of the chapter, and now have two more to get done before I can right the next third. It’s going to need to be gone over again, but not right now. It also kind of felt good to be writing it again, and last night was the most I’ve done in a sitting on this book since before the blizzard disruption/distraction. The blizzard was actually rather magical, perhaps the best thing that’s happened this year, and it really was nice going into that bubble for those days–tuning out and just chilling in the cozy snug warmth of the inside while it was bitterly cold outside. Every time I looked out my windows I was captivated by it, seeing it swirling and twirling in such vast amounts with just the ancient glass separating me from the chill outside. Next weekend I am going up to Alabama to meet Dad; its been two years now, wow. That’ll be yet another distraction, and then it’s Carnival and jury duty. Jesús Cristo! That’s a jam-packed month, isn’t it?

I’ve also got to do my part in the ongoing fight against this illegitimate regime, so I need to take down time and rest when I can, all the while writing a book and working full-time. I’m really not the brightest, am I? And this is me slowed way down. I was thinking the other night that I want to finish at least two more books this year; which is kind of insane? I don’t know. I used to do three or four per year, I think. I definitely don’t think that is possible for me anymore. But at least I am thinking in terms of writing again, which up until recently boiled down to I probably should write today and then not doing it. I think that my mind isn’t as creative anymore when I am not actively writing, and so when I am writing the floodgates in my mind open and suddenly I am getting ideas about future projects and stories and essays and…you see how it works around here.

I barely slept at all last night, drifting in and out of a shallow state for the entire night. I feel rested physically, but also a little like I am operating in accessory and draining my batteries by the minute. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s how I feel. I am going to be very tired this afternoon when I get off work, and fortunately I have no errands to run that cannot wait until the morrow. I did pick up my copy of the new William Boyle on the way home from the office yesterday, and I am hoping that tonight I’ll at least have enough focus to read some more of my book, which I want to finish by the end of the weekend if not sooner. I am still not feeling tired yet, but I know that’s going to land on me like a ton of bricks this afternoon to the point where I will be so tired I am almost in tears. I hate feeling that way, but the plumber is also coming to the apartment today (Paul’s working remotely) to fix the bathroom shower and the garbage disposal, so I can start using the dishwasher again, which will save me some time every day and free up counter space. Huzzah! I think I’m going to work on the kitchen some more this weekend, try to make it more efficient and easier to use.

I know I want to wash the car this weekend for sure.

Oh, and Idaho has petitioned the Supreme Court to overturn Obergefell and overturn same-sex marriage. Hmmm, where’s all that fucking trash that told me repeatedly I was “overreacting” and “no one’s coming for gay marriage.” Fuck off forever and drink some bleach with some ground glass added to it, garbage people. Gargle it before you swallow, while you’re at it. I am so tired of being told that fighting for my rights and those of my community aren’t as “important” and to “be patient for a little longer” while those courting our votes don’t lift a fucking finger.

But it’s also the Super Bowl this weekend, and while I am doing my best to avoid the whole thing–the National Guard is out, and I really do not like living in a military zone, with armed soldiers and tanks out and about–it’s kind of hard to avoid it completely. It’s definitely affected my drive home from work, as I can’t go the way I usually go because its inside The Superdome Military Zone and streets are blocked off; they’re even closing New Orleans air space around and during the game. I think they did this the last time the Super Bowl was here, too…but it was like ten years ago and I don’t really remember. I do remember the post 9/11 one, and it was much the same as this. I don’t remember armed soldiers and tanks last time, though.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. It’s also cool but humid, which means cool temperatures but it feels clammy, blech. I’ll be back tomorrow, most likely, and I’ll talk to you again!

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