Tag: Love

I Feel So Free

It’s Tuesday morning, with a tropical storm out there and heading this way. Eek! It seems to be moving slow, with potential landfall tomorrow in the afternoon some time…which will be fun since I will be at work and will have to figure out how to get home in a downpour, but hey, you never know. Best thing will be to take I-10 to the I-90 exchange and get off at St. Charles. Ah, well, don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow, so why borrow trouble today? Besides, New Orleans/tropical weather forecasts are often wrong; it could be cloudless and sunny while Bertha works her wiles along the coast before coming in. We’re in both a heat advisory and a tropical storm watch at the same time; how New Orleans in July is that? I also slept really well last night–I was tired when I got home from running my errands, for some reason. Tonight I am going to stop on my way home to pick up a few things, but it’s on my way home and thus not a big deal or detour.

I’ve viewed The Odyssey with a skeptical eye since it was announced and previews/clips/still photos started showing up everywhere. As I mentioned before, I always thought Odysseus was kind of a dick, as were the rest of the Greeks; despite knowing the outcome of the Trojan War and what happened to Odysseus on his way home, I always was on Troy’s side. (case in point: Achilles the great warrior. Um, it’s easy to be a brave killing machine when your skin all over your body is invulnerable like Superman. How are you a hero when you literally can’t be killed or injured? Make it make sense, Homer!) However, over the past few days I’ve seen some discussion on the film that makes it seem more interesting to me; I’m not going to see it in a theater (no way am I sitting anywhere for three hours), and had always planned on streaming it. I was going to watch more out of a sense of obligation, really, but it sounds like Nolan’s take on the story is different…it never occurred to me to ever link Troy and the Sea Peoples and the Bronze Age collapse together, and I have to say I am now interested in reading Emily Wilson’s translations of Homer and Virgil. I read the three epics when I was in junior high, and may have been too young to absorb, understand, and interpret. (The Achilles/Patroclus relationship fascinated me; even though the myth was so cleaned up for kids…somehow, I knew.)

I’ve always wanted to write about the Trojan War but was confused by so much. If Troy was a major city and in control of trade routes, where was their fleet? Their merchant ships? Their port? I have this image in my head of an old man, seated by a fire, telling the story of Prince Ganymede of Troy, one of Priam’s bastards, but very close to my favorite Trojan, Cassandra.

I hate my brain sometimes.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day, but mother of God, it was hot. It was 103 when I got into the car after work, and yes, it felt every degree of it. I listened to the new Madonna album on the way uptown yesterday as the a/c in the car finally began blowing cold, deliciously cold, and got the mail. I also stopped and made groceries (still no Creole tomatoes) and yes, bringing everything into the house from the car was exhausting and sweat-inducing to the point that I needed to sit in my chair once everything was put away. I watched the news–the World Cup trophy presentation thing made me laugh, cruelly, and almost as hard as I laughed at the booing. Bravo, Spain! Bravo! How pathetic and pitiable was that display of childish self-centering? “My trophy! Cameras on ME! I’m the best boy!” I mean, I totally get why his parents didn’t love him (who could?), but I also don’t see why we have to be the ones to suffer from his lifelong trauma of Not Being The Best Boy. The first hints of rain from Bertha aren’t supposed to (last time I checked, anyway) get here until tonight, once I am safely home from work and have a purring kitty in my lap while I write and I catch up on the news. I did the dishes this morning and will turn on the dishwasher once I am on my way out the door. It’ll be nice to come home to a cleaned up kitchen without a sink full of dirty dishes and dirty dishes and assorted debris all over my counters.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Hope you have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Professional wrestler and Greek god-like Finn Baelor

Lift ‘Em on Up

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and I did stay in bed later this morning on purpose because it imply fet so marvelous. I had a small replacement fan delivered yesterday afternoon, and it ran all night and I didn’t wake up once, instead going into an incredibly deep and restful sleep for nearly ten hours! Yesterday was kind of a nice, low energy day around here. Paul is back to working with his trainer and going to the gym again, and so he was gone most of the afternoon. I slept later yesterday, and had a bit of a sleep hangover; I was back to feeling rested and not tired, but my batteries were a bit low. I ordered some things to have delivered, and picked up and organized whenever Sparky wasn’t insistent on my lap for hugs and cuddles and naps, which was also nice. Relaxing is always important for both physical and mental health, and my stamina is getting better. I did get a fan delivered yesterday, to make sure I had both the breeze and noise while sleeping last night. I didn’t read any of my book, but I read some of my work in progress, which counts, doesn’t it? I think this morning I’ll read some of the book I’m reading, which I am enjoying. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested and good.

I’m also late with the newsletters, which I am blaming on being “off” all week. I did do some writing this past week, but not much, and I am definitely behind on everything I am working on. It’s a shame that the response I am writing to that little gatekeeping shit who wrote that op-ed for the New York Slimes recently, trying to restrict the community to those he feels “truly belong” as opposed to, how did he say it? Straight kids trying to be cool? I was very angry when I started writing it, but am glad I waited and let it sit, so I can be very cold and factual as I dismantle his bigoted (and hardly Christian) argument.

Honestly, I had no interest in seeing The Odyssey , and it had nothing to do with it being “woke.” (Which didn’t seem to hurt its opening weekend ticket sales). It’s more along the lines that I’ve always thought Odysseus was kind of a dick; Greek “heroes” aren’t really heroic in the modern sense (the Hero’s Journey is the protagonist’s journey, just like romance originally meant something different than it does now, as did mystery); which always confused me when I was fascinated by the Trojan War (I’ve always wanted to write about Troy) and Greek mythology. Heracles was most certainly not a hero in the sense that the modern American definition thinks of as heroic–and while some of his monstrous behavior could be excused away as acts of the gods, not all of them were because of Hera or some other Olympian with a grudge. (I’ve also wanted to write about Heracles since I was a kid.)

Since I was on low-energy mode yesterday, we did watch Sugar, and a couple of episodes of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which really needs to ditch the soapy time travel melodrama of the cast of characters and more on the monsters, which is why we are watching. Godzilla finally has shown up–it’s funny how these same monsters traumatized me as a child, watching Creature Features on the television, giving me bad dreams for weeks after seeing one, and now I love them–which was vastly overdue. The problem with the focus on the melodrama always makes me zone out a bit, which means I miss key things about the monsters by the same team who are also studying the monsters and predicting patterns of behavior and movement–and also where they come from, hence the time travel melodrama. Sugar? No notes. Colin Farrell is fantastic, and the show is well done and well written and extremely clever.

I have to order some things for delivery today or tomorrow; I haven’t decided. I ordered things yesterday so I didn’t have to leave the house, since we were in a d (“feels like 110!”) so I decided going to the gate to get things or out to the trash to dump garbage and the recycling was enough; the sun glaring off my windshield was blinding and I don’t want to think about how hot the car is on the inside. We’re in another heat advisory today, with the ‘feels like’ at about 112, hence ordering for delivery yet again.

The times in which we live, where Taco Bell has replaced the CDC and Waffle House the National Weather Service. Had someone told me this would be my senior years when I was even middle-aged I would have laughed so hard. An anti-vaxxer in charge of public health and food safety? Let’s remember, the agencies that would have worked on these things were gutted by DOGE, Elon, and his ketamine fueled college-age boys? Where are those little shits now? I know they aren’t behind bars where they belong.

There are two tropical messes trying to form in the upper Gulf, just off the coast, and it will of course affect us with some rain and possible flooding from Tuesday through the next weekend. Heavy sigh–but I am looking forward to the thunderstorm.

Pity about the Tates being arrested for raping and trafficking children. Hope they enjoy dying in prison.

And on that cheerful note–I approve of predators being arrested–I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the living room to read for a bit before getting cleaned up and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

This artwork is “The Tree of Forgiveness” (1881–1882) by English Pre-Raphaelite painter Sir Edward Burne-Jones. The painting depicts a scene from classical mythology, specifically the legend of Phyllis and Demophoön.
It illustrates the moment Phyllis, transformed into an almond tree, emerges from the bark to embrace her lover, Demophoön, who has returned filled with remorse. (If you ask me, he looks terrified and like he’s trying to escape. Maybe that’s the myth?)

Cool Zero

Friday morning and I need to drive out to Dillard University’s campus for an all day training, under the guise of Staff Development Day. I’d rather be working at home today, to be completely honest, but that’s also okay. Next week I finally have my normal four days in, one day at home work schedule for the first time since mid-June. Here’s hoping it’s a fun and interesting day and my mind doesn’t wander, like it does when I get bored (sorry/not sorry; that goes back to first grade with me), which will just make the day drag out longer than it will already seem. Heavy heaving sigh.

I was very tired yesterday, but I managed to run my errand to make groceries on the way home and then I just collapsed into my easy chair “just for a minute” but then Sparky fell asleep in my lap and I stayed there until Paul got home (late). I caught up on the news (sigh) and then just watched clips of Game of Thrones on Youtube; it really was an incredibly well done show until those final two seasons when they blew it all up. The thing that was great about the show was that everything was unexpected and unpredictable; any character could die at any moment, but as the show went on, it became apparent that some characters would make it through to the end for the big climactic arc, which they might not survive. The three Lannister siblings, Sansa, Arya, Jon, Daenarys…they weren’t going anywhere. The finale, and the last two seasons, were a missed dismount, sadly. Would it have been too difficult for them to write an incestuous (but they were incestuous) marriage between Jon/Aegon and his aunt, Daenarys? I guess they really wanted that episode of Kings Landing being destroyed and Cersei dethroned and killed. With Jon/Aegon on the Iron Throne, Sansa wouldn’t have felt the need to make the North independent….ah, what could have been–and yes, the hints of her Targaryen madness were there from the first episode; it’s kind of interesting how Daenarys and Sansa went through an almost similar path to their finale. (It was also kind of awful how character growth for women often involved rape and abuse, or, in Cersei’s case, a public humiliation.)

But if anything was changed, we’d lose that magnificent final scene of Lady Olenna Tyrell roasting Jaime before she dies. (It did beg the question of why she never had Cersei poisoned. Ah, well.)

I didn’t do much writing yesterday, due to being so tired–I really was, but it wasn’t fatigue, it was just being worn out. As tired as I was, it was nice that it wasn’t the fatigue from before. I did sleep pretty well, despite waking a few times, but I am really looking forward to tonight’s sleep–since I don’t need to get up to an alarm tomorrow. Tomorrow? We’ll see how I feel and how it goes when I get up, I reckon. I want to get back on board with my writing, obviously, and may do some tonight when I get home–depending, of course, on how I feel after this day of professional development. I also want to finish reading my book–that’s what I should do after work this evening–and start reading my next. There are also some newsletters I need to get finished and scheduled. I didn’t send one at all this week, and I don’t remember if I sent one last weekend or not. Ah, the last one went out on July 6th, so ten days ago (I did, however, send three over five days that first week of the month) so yes, there is definitely one due this weekend.

I didn’t watch the unpresidential address last night, and it looks like it turned out to be exactly what I expected it to be–more whining and grievances from the colicky diaper baby in the White House, and just yet another reminder of how lovely it was before the unholy alliance between Fox, the Republicans, and the Heritage Foundation to undermine our democracy and establish a conservative religious state, similar to Iran, took hold.

Sigh. At least Ukraine continues to drag Russia to the hell they so richly deserve.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Enjoy your weekend eve, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with a full report on Friday!

Live oaks dripping with Spanish moss is one of my favorite things about the South.

Don’t Walk Away

Well, good morning, Thursday, how are you doing today? Yesterday wasn’t a bad one, frankly. I woke up before my alarm, feeling very well rested, and went to work. I also had a good day at the day job, which included getting some things taken care of, and I took care of another (non-work related) task over my lunch break. I did get a little tired in the late afternoon, but it wasn’t a big deal and I also had to run an errand on my way home, too. I worked on the book some, but wasn’t really feeling it a lot yesterday. I’m a perfectionist, of course, and I’d rather not write something I know is terrible, but that’s what the next draft is for, too. I need to really get out of my own way sometimes. Sigh. WE also watched the season finale of Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which was excellent, and set up a second season perfectly, which I didn’t see how they were going to manage, but they did. Highly recommended, of course. I slept decently last night, too, even if I did wake up a few times. I’ve not slept through the night in a while, actually; something to discuss with my doctor the next time I see him…which reminds me, I have a new doctor. Sigh. My previous doctor, whom I really liked, moved away and I am being reassigned to someone new. I hope this goes better than the last time my doctor moved and I was reassigned to a homophobic quack whose idea of being my doctor consisted of oh you’re just getting older, which led to my ulcerative colitis going undetected for years, and of course the misdiagnosis of my bicep tear, which resulted in a minor surgery becoming a major one….and the UC worked with the surgery to keep me weak, fatigued and brain fogged. I really should have sued him for malpractice; multiple medical professionals have told me that–which is frankly rare, as they tend to close ranks against outsiders, just like the police.

Sigh.

It looks like Ukraine is kicking the shit out of Russia now, and more power to them, as Moscow and St. Petersburg burn, their energy production has been crippled, and they are being driven out of Crimea, after a 12 year illegal occupation. I also appreciate that, unlike their foes, Ukraine isn’t targeting Russian civilians. How much longer can Putin hold on to power? A defeat in Ukraine and a surrender would probably do the trick–but I think he’ll hold on until his own people and/or military rise up against him. I highly recommend Vlad get the Romanovs-in-a-basement-in Ekaterinberg, but of course, your mileage might vary.

I am feeling a little spacy this morning, which is to be expected; it’s Thursday and I am slowing running out of steam like I always do on Thursdays. I have an all-day staff development tomorrow, which is mostly a training that we usually do at our own pace in free time during the work day. I hope I won’t be sleepy! I’m going to stop and make some groceries on my way home tonight; and I need to put the clean dishes away and take out some trash. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get some writing done as well. I am enjoying myself writing now again, and it’s something I wish I could dedicate even more time to; but I also like that I’ve somehow managed to wean myself out of the 3k a day binge writing I’ve done for so damned long. I want to finish Chapter 4 before planning out the next four chapters; because I am not entirely sure how it’s going to go from there.

I’m trying to not talk about politics on here anymore–if you don’t know where I fall politically by now, you really should do something about your lack of reading comprehension skills, although I imagine it’s too late for those kinds of considerations at this point. But JFC, how is this not the worst possible timeline? An exploding diarrhea pandemic? This is what happens when you vote for a narcissistic sociopath who thinks anyone is qualified for a high-level public service job as long as they lick his ass and pretend he won the 2020 election. Tonight he is going to put out some baseless claims about the 2020 Georgia elections, in particular the two senators who won–one of whom was reelected already, and the other is looking damned presidential already. Why people continue to attach themselves like remoras on a great white shark to FOTUS’ ass, but here we are.

Newsflash: he’s never cared about you, he never will care about you, and his autopsy is going to show an almost entirely smooth brain.

And here locally, our governor, Janky Jeff Landry, has decided to come for New Orleans because he and his should-be-disbarred piece of shit Attorney General filed criminal charges against her…newsflash: being Attorney General means you enforce the law equally, not target your political foes. Janky Jeff actually said this week that “New Orleans thinks it’s special” and “New Orleans isn’t the primary economic engine in the state anymore.” Would that be because of the fucking data centers that nobody fucking wants in Louisiana except for Janky Jeff and the donors who own his crusty unwashed ass? If New Orleans is so fucking unimportant now, Janky Jeff, why don’t you keep your crusty unwanted ass out of our city? No, you bring important guests to New Orleans all the time. You come to every big sporting event at the Dome–Super Bowl, Sugar Bowl, etc.–and love to eat our food and show off our city but then you’re going to shit all over it? Fuck you to the moon and back, you piece of shit. So Louisiana no longer claims the Saints? The Pelicans? Carnival? Jazz Fest? The billions in revenue New Orleans tourism brings?

By all means, Janky, take your VIPs to Shreveport or Lake Charles or Monroe. That will sure impress the hell of them. You’re doing such a great job as governor, too. How has anything he done improved life for any one single Louisianans? I’ve got time, I’ll wait, cuck boy. Take all the time you need.

Louisiana deserves better, and I will laugh my ass off if the recall petitions for him and his bitch AG succeed and they get voted out.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I hope I’ll be able to get my entry finished before the training tomorrow morning. Until then!

Sigh, Italy.

Cerebral Man

Wednesday Pay the Bills Day has rolled around again somehow, and so I get to spend some part of my day doing just that: paying the goddamned bills. Evangelicals keep promising the rapture, can y’all get your shit together and let us know when exactly this is going to happen? I intend to have fun during the end times, and I have zero interest is paying my bills during that time. Of course, whenever I think about these things, I do reflect on what a paradise it will be without the evangelicals here….oh, wait. They were Left Behind? (see what I did there?1) After the rapture, think how much fun it will be reminding evangelicals why they are still here.

I’m petty, what can I say?

I’ve been listening to the new Madonna album, Confessions II, and it’s good; probably her best album since the original Confessions on a Dance Floor and I have to admit, it’s a lot of fun having Madonna back on form again. As I listen to it while I drive around, I remember other Madonna bangers–there were quite a few–and what a fucking legend she is, and it also takes me back to my gay bar days and weekends. I don’t miss going out and dancing all night–much too old for that now–but I do have a lot of marvelous memories–or would if I could remember any of it, ha ha ha. I feel another essay coming on…there’s no celebrity that I am such a huge fan of that I can’t judge their work independently; I am not a “I love everything so-and-so has ever done” unless I actually do love everything so-and-so has ever done; but I don’t cape for famous people nor do I try to defend them against the indefensible on-line. I’ve stopped being a fan of some celebrities once I realize they aren’t good people–looking at you, Gloria Gaynor and Carrie Underwood, just off the top of my head (nothing makes me madder than people who use gay men for money and fame like that two-faced MAGA skank Kristin Chenowith; Judy or Liza would never). Also, there are people–adults now–who know nothing of Madonna, which is insane to me. If you want to talk disruptors…she was the original, and we’re all the better for it.

I feel rested this morning, so I think I slept better last night than I have the last two nights–or my body has adapted to getting up early. I have an employee development thing at work on Friday–everyone in the agency has to go–so once again, not a normal weekend for one Gregalicious. Sigh. The highs for the rest of the week are in the nineties, and I am sure the heat advisories are back, too, although we didn’t have one yesterday. It was actually kind of nice and cool when I left for the office yesterday morning, and according to the forecast the rain is returning this weekend. It was overcast a lot for the rest of the day after the rain passed in the morning, and it was definitely hot when I came home. I had to swing by the post office on my way home yesterday to pick up a package, and dashed into the grocery store for one item. I washed the dishes and cleaned out the sink last night, running the dishwasher just before I went up to bed. So yes, came down to a lovely clean kitchen (well, cleaner at any rate) this morning, which was absolutely lovely.

My coffee is kicking in! I like this leaving for the office later thing I’ve been doing, and I don’t care if I have to stay there until 5, you know? Yay! I do have some things I want to get done today. I didn’t do much work on the book yesterday–a couple of hundred words, at best, and I honestly don’t think I hit a hundred with fiction yesterday. I have to pay the bills and have another task I need to get finished today–preferably this morning, actually, or over lunch–and I have some stuff to order and have delivered, either tonight or tomorrow.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Till then!

Yes, yes, people are interested in his brains.
  1. If you are fortunate enough to be unaware, I am talking about the post-Rapture books by the evangelical scum by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins, which were popular for a few years around the turn of the century. Three films (starring certifiable freak Kirk Cameron), all as forgettable as the poorly written books. Most don’t remember them at all, and if I just reminded you of them, my apologies BUT WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO SUFFER ALONE?? ↩︎

Invincible

Friday morning and I have a mandatory in-person meeting at the office this morning, so I am going to just stay there and do my hours at the office today. I can leave in the early afternoon and run some errands, too, so I can get things under control for the weekend before the weekend. The goal is to only go outside to either cook or take out trash/recycling, and work on the book, cleaning the house, and getting my body rested and recharged for another week of work. I was dragging a bit yesterday morning, but this new thing of “don’t have to be there till eight” (a long and not interesting tale I won’t bore you with) actually is working better. I get up at the same time, but I don’t have to rush–and rushing is when I will forget something or not do something and makes me feel off for the morning until I wake up completely. Yesterday afternoon I was fine, only a little mentally fried, and when I left work I came home and did some chores and some writing. Boo-ya!

There’s rain in today’s forecast this afternoon, but it shouldn’t be starting before I get home. I need to run uptown to get the mail after work, and I may make a grocery run as well (minor); depends on how I feel because I also am aware I can simply have things delivered. Having things delivered has so simplified my life, and I really don’t miss going to the grocery store, but I am fresh out of Creole tomatoes, and I need to pick those out in person. Paul is changing his eating habits, and I really need to change mine too–but it’s hard to be motivated to make significant changes to our bodies when you’re almost sixty-five. It’s still hard sometimes to understand or wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve lived so fucking long.

I feel good and rested this morning, which is a pleasant surprise. I worried about getting up at six an extra day, but it hasn’t phased me this morning in the least. MY mind is very alert and I don’t feel physically tired, which is great. Last night we caught up on Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which we are loving, and caught another episode of Sugar. I didn’t get any reading done last night, alas, nor did I do any chores last night. The good news is this doing them all week has me ahead on the chores, so the kitchen doesn’t look like a disaster area this morning, which is also nice.

A name I hadn’t heard in a while is trending on social media this morning because the hateful old bitch is dead. Yes, Anne Widdecombe has apparently died; I assume from choking to death on her own bile. She has always been a massive ally to the patriarchy, homophobic to her rotted and wizened soul and felt men had a right to women’s bodies without consent. I hope her death was horrifically painful, just as I hope Mitch McConnell is still alive but suffering deeply right now. “Don’t wish ill”? FUCK the people who wished me and my entire worldwide community ill, and actively worked to make our lives as miserable and marginalized as possible. No, I don’t have sympathy for her family because they love a monster, and sat by while she spewed vile putrescence and did as much damage as she possibly could…like McConnell. Anyway, here’s hoping for a pleasant day, right? I don’t mind being reminded of these vicious pieces of shit because they’ve died. I hope she’s enjoying roasting in hell.

Miss me with your high horse and moral superiority. I have about as much sympathy for these monsters as they have for me and people like me, so yeah, fuck off. I have no desire to give trash grace.

And on that note, it’s off to the office and my meeting and the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning, never fear!

Yes, gays will makes passes at pretty men who wear glasses!

Run Between the Raindrops

Monday morning in the Lost Apartment and it’s back to work for me today. Yesterday was kind of lovely. I slept later than I’d intended, but I must have needed ten hours of sleep and yes, as a result I felt quite marvelous all day yesterday. I relaxed and took it easy in the morning, doing some organizing on my computer over my coffee, which also tasted marvelous, and had some things for breakfast. My back up hard drive and all of my storage is in such bad shape, you have no idea. Fortunately I can do searches, but that’s if the file has been named and I can remember what I named it. I have so many picture files that are unnamed…I may never sort them all. I also need to stop collecting images of hot guys because I already have so fucking many of them. Sigh. I hoard computer files, too, what a surprise.

Of course, all I need to do is disconnect the damned hard drive and plug it into my laptop, so when my mind wanders while I’m in my easy chair I can sort the files and make some progress. Du-uh. I really have quite the grasp of the obvious, don’t I? We also had the most marvelous thunderstorm yesterday afternoon while I was working on writing–a plethora of different things; from newsletters to short stories to the book itself. I am very pleased with how the book is progressing–it’s slow going, but I am also very out of practice, and am still adjusting to all of this free time I have now that I’ve stopped volunteering. I honestly had no idea how much time I was spending on it. No wonder I was so tired all the time, and that being tired had something to do with the onset of the illness, whenever it was; my system was worn down and vulnerable. I don’t regret the time spent, of course–like I ALWAYS say, I don’t live a life of regret–but it is astonishing to have time that I can actually waste guilt-free. But now that I am healthy and getting back into the groove of my life again, my sense of joy and my sense of humor are coming back stronger than they were before, too. My illness and hospitalization was actually the best thing to happen to me in quite a while. And while I certainly don’t recommend it and don’t ever want that to happen to me again (not just sick but six nights in a hospital bed), it was the kind of wake-up call I needed.

I also had to laugh at myself a bit yesterday, too, speaking of my sense of humor. I had worked on a short story Saturday afternoon; I’ve had this idea for at least five years and for some reason it started kicking around in my head again on Friday, which is why I started writing it Saturday…only to discover I’d actually started it when I originally had the idea, after all…but now I know what the story is, what the right tone for it is, and that was absolutely some good work I managed Saturday. I had also worked on the book some on Saturday, too, and that also felt good, especially since I didn’t really feel like doing any writing at the time, but managed almost a thousand words without really any drive to write or any idea of what I actually was going to type out. I suppose I could do Jami Attenberg’s A Thousand Words of Summer, couldn’t I? Note to self: order her book.

And the Giants continue to lose, speaking of joy, and what makes it even better for me is to see those bigots are now pariahs in the city where they play. I don’t follow baseball outside of LSU, but I grin every time I hear that the Giant Bigots lose yet another time. I hope those fucks are booed and hated for the rest of their shitty, unwashed crusty ass lives. Newsflash: you’re okay with every sin but homosexuality, which didn’t make your God’s top ten. Have fun in hell–God don’t like ugly, and God don’t like men who think they speak for him, either. My values and beliefs don’t allow me to suppose hateful bigots. See how that works, you punk bitches?

And I wouldn’t be throwing a lot of stones about anyone if I looked like that in a baseball uniform, bitches. You’re supposed to be professional athletes, not the “before” in a gym advertisement. Can’t you look like one? Baseball has pretty much made it clear this summer that they embrace racism and homophobia; all that’s left is for them to demean women like the misogynist pricks on the US Men’s Hockey Team to complete their trifecta of enshittification. Well done, baseball. Way to turn America’s Pastime into a bigot-fest.

Oddly, if MLB has been a horrific disappointment for a fan of sports in general, the World Cup has been incredibly refreshing and fun to watch and experience. Erling Haaland has captivated me, the big goofy Norwegian Viking golden retriever that he is, and I also fell hard for the Cabo Verde team; what an inspiring tournament story they gave the world. And of course, loved the Scots and all the fans from everywhere. The world cup has, of all things, been so heartwarming and enjoyable (I do love seeing people enjoying themselves) and it’s also been lovely seeing the fans enjoying each other as well as themselves. That has been absolutely lovely and healing to see, as well as the hope for the future such things engender. I do generally prefer to be optimistic; at heart, I like to think I am usually cheerful and hope for the best…and I don’t enjoy when people make me not feel that way…which is yet another reason to hate those trashy asswipes who like to bring other people down.

I also love the anti-Trump chants they brought with them, my favorite? Aussie boys here on a bender, Donald Trump is a sex offender! Thank you, World Cup fans, for not letting him make this about his fat shitty ass, the way he will if he makes it to the Olympics in Los Angeles next year. I can only imagine the horrors his goons will unleash on LA before the games open. Heavy heaving sigh.

We had a marvelous thunderstorm yesterday afternoon, the lights even blinked a few times. It’s been a while since we had such a great storm, so I cuddled up with my blanket in my easy chair during the downpours while I worked on my laptop. It was marvelously cozy, I have to say. I’d intended to cook out yesterday, but the rain forced me into a dinner alternative and made something I’ve not made in years–and as I was eating it thought this is good for thrown together but I can make this a lot better which is how I always end up redoing recipes all the time. Some gravy would have been nice…bell peppers. Anyway, the rain was relaxing and calming as it always is.

I am pleased with the work I got done on the book, and the character’s voice is starting to come to me a lot easier and a lot faster than it has for a very long time. We’ll take that as a good sign, won’t we?

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

Sexy Angus O’Brien, one of the breakout stars from last summer’s Boots

Big Life

Sunday and the morning after the holiday; all is well and peaceful this morning in the Lost Apartment. I had stuff delivered yesterday, so I didn’t have to leave the house (I am getting a bit spoiled by all this delivery service, but it’s wonderful and I am not going to stop using it). I ordered everything in the morning and it was here by twelve! Ah, modern convenience. Something good that came out of the pandemic that future generations will thank us for. Who knew that horrible time had a positive impact in some ways? It made for a lovely start to the day, really. Sparky wanted me up early yesterday and rather than resisting his entreaties, I got up and started my day, which was cool. I did some filing and organizing, and I also finished and published a holiday newsletter yesterday, about the 4th of July and remembering back to the bicentennial in 1976, which was very different from what we saw yesterday and what we saw in the time leading up to yesterday. Everything he touches dies, doesn’t it?

Going outside to get the deliveries or take out trash/recycling wasn’t terrible. I may be acclimating to this summer, which might not be a terrible thing. Oh, I’ll still bitch and moan and whine and sweat and feel the humidity sucking my soul out of my body like always, but…you do get used to it. You’re aware of it, of course, there’s no escaping any of that unless you’re inside the blessed cool, but your subconscious is aware that it’s not going to kill you even if it feels as though it might.

I wasn’t able to read any yesterday morning, alas. By the time I got everything ordered and delivered, and had done some of my chores it was past noon. Paul was up and watching Wimbledon, so I broke out the laptop and did some writing on it in the living room, which was nice. There was some good energy in the apartment yesterday. I felt really good and content. I also have some things to order for delivery today, too, which I also hope to take care of this morning. I polished a newsletter that has been sitting in my drafts since late May and will probably get it sent out tomorrow morning (I’ve done two in two days already this weekend, and I am aware it could quite easily be overkill). I also started two more, about more serious subjects, that I hope to get done this month. I need to finish Lev’s book so I can write about that, too. There’s literally no end, is there? There’s also the Half Man one I need to write…where’s my to-do notebook?

I also wrote about a thousand or so words of fiction yesterday, which felt good and was absolutely marvelous. We finished The Big Conn and hey, at least he felt remorse and bad for the victims, which is more than SSA did. WE started watching Sugar which we are loving Colin Farrell yum, love the stylizations and the occasional dips into classic Hollywood, and really like the character, too. Colin Farrell is perfect for this Ross Macdonald/Raymond Chander-style detective show; why has someone not tried filming a Lew Archer with him in it? You know what else I’d like to see? Alexander Skarsgaard playing Travis McGee. We also watched some of Wimbledon yesterday, and probably will watch some more of it this afternoon.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Until then!


The Golden Band from Tigerland prepares to perform “Pregame” on the field. It’s the one with THE four notes that bring every fan to their feet.

Fight It Out

Friday morning and the office is closed for the holiday today, so no work-at-home chores for me today. Sparky let me sleep a little later this morning and I definitely didn’t want to get up this morning, either. I feel a bit worn down today, and a bit foggy, but I’ll be fine once I shower. I was able to leave work early yesterday and run a few errands on the way home (my medication arrived in the mail; had to get another prescription; and pick up my dry cleaning) but I did feel a bit wrung out when I got home. I did some chores (laundry, dishes) and we started watching Margo’s Got Money Problems but didn’t really care much for it, and thus gave up on it. I want to read a bit this morning and do some cleaning around here, and hopefully get some writing done as well. I want to work on newsletters today, too–I have my entry about A Violent Masterpiece to share, and I also want to write about the weirdness of this holiday weekend. They haven’t issued a heat advisory for us yet, but it’s still possible. It currently “feels like” 104 and it’s not even nine yet. There’s a possibility of thunderstorms this afternoon, too. I may have some things delivered today, to get it out of the way so I don’t have to go outside other than to take out trash. That sounds like a lovely plan to me.

It’s hard for me to believe and wrap my mind around the idea that the Bicentennial was fifty years ago; the summer I turned fifteen and was about to start my junior year of high school, starting over again in Kansas, where I stuck out like a sore thumb the moment I crossed the threshold. This is the summer I turn sixty-five, and the country is in a very different mood this time around. Apparently, Ba’al is planning to give an epically long speech tomorrow at the Great American State Embarrassment, and is threatening to go as long as he possibly can to prove that he did. No incumbent president has ever died on July 4th, but at the very least his make-up is going to run–and no telling what will happen to his rat’s nest. However, President Zachary Taylor went to a lengthy celebration of the 4th on a very hot humid day, ate some cold milk and cucumbers to cool down, and got sick and died a few days later.

Dare I dream?

Essence is also this weekend here in New Orleans, and I hope that it’s back to its best form; there were a lot of complaints and some scandals in recent years. Louisiana racists hate Essence Festival (just as they hate Bayou Classic weekend, another Black event), and were pretty gleeful about its possible demise the last couple of years (there are also Quarter businesses that close both weekends, but they’re not racist, wink wink),so here’s hoping its back to form this year and rebuilds back bigger and better than ever before.

The battle between New Orleans and Louisiana rages on, with a grand jury here indicting our criminalistic conservative skank Attorney General for, among other things, abuse of power. Our lovely governor has promised to “pardon her instantly” for any convictions she may get in New Orleans…(that MAGA love and respect for the law and the Constitution on full display here, may they both burn in their own hells for all eternity)…yet conservatives called Huey Long a dictator…when Huey never pulled any of this kind of shit on his own, and he and his candidates always won in landslides. At least the day to day people loved Huey because he fought the 1% to benefit the people–which our modern day demagoguery can’t be bothered with.

I’ve been listening to some old favorites lately in the car as I drive to and from work and around town–albums by Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Nicks, and Pat Benatar from my youth and most of them still hold up today and could be hits. Some of Stevie’s 1980s albums are very much of their time, vastly over-produced like the most excessive Bonnie Tyler hits of the period, unfortunately; I’d love to hear them remade with a more timeless production style.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines for the day. I need to do some chores, and I need to get the kitchen and my workspace back under control. I hope you have a lovely Holiday Eve, Constant Reader, and I hope to see you again here tomorrow morning on the nation’s birthday. Until then, Constant Reader!

The Victim

Monday morning, you sure feel fine!1 I actually feel decent this morning, if a bit on the groggy side. I was very low energy yesterday, too, sadly; I did get the laundry done but didn’t do much of anything else. We watched more Citadel, but I didn’t have much bandwidth to read or write or do a whole lot. That’s okay, though; I must have needed the down time doing nothing so I’m not beating myself up about it anymore. The heat is going to be miserable for the summer, so I need to just strap myself in and deal with it. Hopefully, I won’t feel as drug out the rest of the week as I do this morning. Friday is a holiday again, too. I just have to get through this week, don’t I? I think we’re busy all week in the clinic too, and I also think I am working by myself most days…and I am likely to end up working by myself in the clinic permanently. Ah, well, it’s only for five more years, right? Then again, I may not survive the next round of budget cuts, either. Always lovely at my age to consider…

Sigh.

My energy is getting better the longer I am awake and the more coffee I consume, which is about par for the course, methinks. I think as I am home longer and get acclimated back to my real life more, I’ll probably start recovering more and feeling more awake and rested and productive. I still have a dishwasher to unload and a sink full of dirty dishes to take care of, “tis life, I suppose. I probably could have (or should have) taken today off, but I also don’t know why I was so worn out when I got home. I didn’t drive that much, and I got very good sleep while I was there. Who knows? Maybe I didn’t eat enough–always a possibility when I travel–and that’s what caused this lethargy. Probably just the disruption to my normal existence, more like.

We also watched Southern Gothic, a documentary series about horrific murders in the south2, getting through the entire season before we knew it. We actually also finished Citadel last night, which is a shame, but that last episode definitely set up the next season. I did have my journal in hand, but didn’t write more than just free associating scribbles. I need to get back on my writing horse and get some of these things I am working on either finished (short story drafts) or serious progress (the book) has been made. I did think about the book while I was driving–those books were amazing–and now just have to get reoriented at work and get my feet down on the ground in the normality of my life again. I need to make groceries–I don’t have anything to bring for lunch tomorrow–and at some point I need to get the mail.

Today’s title, while a song from Pat Benatar’s Seven the Hard Way album (which I need to listen to again at some point; I’ve been revisiting her classic albums in the car lately and enjoying them), has also been used, repeatedly, as a title for books, stories and films. I remember one, a made-for-TV movie with Elizabeth Montgomery in the early 1970s, that I particularly enjoyed, and I’ve always wanted to write a book or story using either “the Victim” or “Victim” as a title. Just using it again here has made me start thinking about a story that would fit said title; but it would have to be complicated and twisty. I’ll probably freestyle some scribbling in my journal this week about it, which could be a lot of fun, methinks.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Sorry to be a bit dull, I promise I’ll be more interesting in the future, okay? Have a great Monday, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’ll be your victim!
  1. From “Monday Morning,” written by Lindsey Buckingham for Fleetwood Mac, 1976. ↩︎
  2. It is amazing how many preachers sleep with married women and then murder their husbands. ↩︎