Lookin’ for Love

Sunday! It started raining last evening before I went to bed, and it lasted through this morning. I slept well and stayed in bed for another hour after I woke up because it was so nice and comfortable and because, well, because I could. I can’t tomorrow, after all. I feel rested and good this morning, too. I think the reading went well, and the panel…well, I’ve done a better job moderating before, but my panelists were amazing–Karis Walsh, MJ Williamz, and Marie Incontrera. Their new books sound amazing; Marie is actually a debut author with a romance set in the world of Manhattan theater, which sounds like a absolute winner. I enjoyed talking with them, at any rate, and hope the viewers enjoyed listening to us. I think I rambled a lot, like I always do, forgetting its about the panelists and not the moderater. I hate when I do that, you know.

LSU came within a tiger’s whisker of winning the national championships in gymnastics, and they didn’t have the best meet, either. Kailin Chio got a 10 on vault (the only one of the competition) and I was very proud of the young ladies. Congratulations to Oklahoma for winning again, and to Minnesota and Florida for making the finals. LSU didn’t make it past the semi-finals last year, but they had a great season this year and rebounding to finish second nationally this year was a great season. Brava, ladies!

I didn’t read much yesterday, sadly, but plan to rectify that a bit this morning. I am ordering groceries for delivery, and I am going to make my “famous” meatballs (the recipe that was in the Mystery Writers of America Cookbook, but has evolved and is much better than it was then) in the slow cooker for dinner and lunches this week. I have a panel this afternoon which I am not moderating for the Bold Strokes Bookathon, which is about reading reviews (I don’t) and if reviews have anything to offer the reader (no, they don’t). I do have the interview questions from the moderator, which I may use to explore the topic more on my own for the newsletter (I love doing self-interviews when someone else thinks up the questions). I do want to do some reading today, and I would also like to write some. I think I’m itching to get back to work on fiction, and I know that once I start, the dam will break and a torrent of words will come flowing out of me. At least, I hope that will be the case.

I also opened up the new version of Chapter One of Chlorine that I had started a while back, when I realized my revisions had not truly improved it and I was losing the character’s voice and truth and desires. The original idea was a young actor-on-the-make, willing to do whatever he needed to do to keep his career alive and progressing, despite being a closet case for obvious reasons. The 1950s were a very paranoid era in Hollywood–all the Commie-hunts, the Hays Code, a connected and queer underground beneath the glittering surface, the threat of television to film attendance–and I also came up with a better stage name for him: Wade Rivers, which fits into that whole Adonis Factory machine Henry Willson drove–Rock Hudson, Tab Hunter, Troy Donahue, Guy Madison–that I am fictionalizing. I have to say, there may have been only about seven hundred words or so that I wrote on this new version, but it really is good, he typed modestly.

I’m a much better writer than I have ever given myself credit for. It’s also nice to be able to recognize that–and my long career–without feeling the need to belittle myself or make some caveats.

I also want to get a newsletter finished and completed and sent out today.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. I also want to get some cleaning done today, too. Cleaning, reading and writing on a cloudy, rainy Sunday; does like ever get any better than this? Have an awesome rest of your day, and I will check back in tomorrow morning before I head into the office.

Not sure I’d stop, but I’d be tempted.

Smoky Mountain Rain

Yes, this is yet another song that inspired me to write a short story–“No Security Provided,” thus far an unfinished first draft, about a woman driving north on I-75 hurriedly but has to make a rest stop and finds herself in a bad situation–which I really should finish someday. It has the potential to be a very good story, you know? Or it could be a worthless piece of crap no one will want. Your mileage might vary. I’m sure it often does.

For the first time in three weeks I have a work-at-home Friday, and it feels nice to be getting back into my normal routine. Yesterday was fine; I made it through the day unscathed, not tired, and pretty cheerful for the most part. I got home in time to see the final rotation of the Gymnastics national semifinals, in which LSU clinched a spot in the finals with three incredible floor routines back to back to wrap up their night. That made me even cheerier, and watching the news didn’t upset me too terribly. (I think I’ve just snapped about the country, to be honest; I’m numb to it all, with one notable exception–more on that later) I have some quality assurance to get done this morning, and some chores I’d like to take care of. I’ll need to also figure out what to get from the grocery store and what to have delivered, and when. I do need to run uptown to the post office, and maybe can drop off a load of books to the library sale. I can do that tomorrow, and swing by–oh, you don’t need to know the rundown of my plans for the weekend. I’m not sure I do, to be honest, other than as a reminder. I’ve been watching Jeopardy! clips on Youtube, trying to sharpen my mind, as well as playing a computer game that requires focus and concentration. I don’t know if that will work or not, but it seems to be? Anyway, I am feeling content this morning. The good night’s sleep undoubtedly helped with me feeling good and rested this morning, and that is so awesome, you know? I didn’t even sleep in that late, either. Sparky was a cuddlebug again this morning, but not as patient as he was last weekend waiting for me to get up and feed him, so I was up shortly after seven without issue. I am on my second cup of coffee this morning, and I already had my morning coffee cake, but my stomach still feels a bit on the empty side, so I’ll be making some toast or something in a moment.

It occurred to me yesterday, as the news of the CNN story on the so-called on-line “rape academy,” that I will never run out of material for my newsletter series on masculinity, will I? Certainly not as long as mediocre straight men can’t get laid due to their looks or lack of personality….scratch a straight man, and the odds are in your favor when it comes to finding one who’s a rapist, or one who has thought about it. Intrusive thoughts are still your thoughts. And the way men will always circle the wagons without question or thought when a man is credibly accused of sexual assault has always been rather telling, I’ve always believed. Not all men, of course, one can never truly generalize any demographic group as there are always plenty of exceptions to the generalization, but…it’s always a man.

I remember as a kid, when reading about history or mythology, I’d encounter the word rape and not know what it meant; I assumed it meant abducting them and nothing more than that–the rape of the Sabine women comes to mind–and it wasn’t until much later that I realized what the gods and soldiers were actually doing, and how casually the concept was introduced to me, and by extension, to all kids in that time period as not a big deal that it’s no wonder than men are socialized to think their cavemannish belief they are entitled to a woman’s body whenever and wherever they want. (This is why I love Sarah Weinman’s work so much–Without Consent is probably one of the most important non-fiction works on women’s bodily autonomy in years–or at least since her last book. I really need to read it again so I can write about it. It’s just too important of a book for me to dash off some thoughts without being thoughtful, you know?)

It also looks to be another stunning April day outside, so maybe sitting outside with a book this afternoon might be a good call. Or a little walk down to the park and back, or over to Walgreens; I do need to get some Claritin. So, I think I’m going to bring this to a close and head over into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, y’all, and I’ll be back yet again in the morning.

Southern Cross

Pay the Bills Wednesday, and we are halfway through the week already. Insanity.1 But I had a decent day at work yesterday, came home and got some things done, and relaxed with Sparky a bit. I finished watching The Beauty (more on that later), had some things delivered, and cleaned up the kitchen a bit. I didn’t feel overly tired when I got home–there has been surprisingly little traffic this week; I forget that Easter Monday is a thing in New Orleans every year, but again yesterday? I hit almost all of the lights on my way home and it took me about ten minutes from the time I started my car at the office. (This is notable because it’s never that quick, easy, or simple.)

I also bit the bullet and hit publish on an overdue newsletter (you can read it here, if you like). I’ve been thinking about writing personal essays about masculinity, the way I saw it before and how I see it now, an my thoughts and opinions after sixty-four (almost sixty-five!) years of being a sexual suspect, (I was going to say outlaw in homage to John Rechy, but since my sexuality was against the law until 2003, decided not to) an outsider to the inner workings of the heterosexual male. I’ve only written from a straight male perspective a couple of times that I can recall, mostly ghost writing, but I am never entirely comfortable doing so because I can’t understand that “I’m the center of the universe” mentality so many of them seem to have–which isn’t limited to our culture and society, either. In our case here in the US, I think some of it has to do with the religious mania that has infused so much of our society, to its detriment; Christianity as it developed in western Europe is incredibly male-centered as well as designed to be an arm of the state, upholding the status quo and opposing any change or questioning of the state. I’ve always said that History is taught wrong, and this is part of that problem, too. Anyway, I am very pleased with this most recent newsletter, and hope you’ll check it out.

The Beauty was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever watched. As always with Ryan Murphy shows, it had a great premise but didn’t deliver on it, and egregiously this one didn’t have an ending. It just stopped, after the reveal of the deus ex machina, and so the last two episodes were also more filler than anything else, and then had to wrap up everything quickly in the last ten minutes or so. The concept of the show–a drug that makes people the most beautiful, hot and sexy versions of themselves (which was also a crock and didn’t always make sense). This could have been a deeply sharp satirical look at the American obsession with youth and beauty, but…it wasn’t. I know, I know, I have no one to blame but myself–but every once in a while, he does a good show…but I have been convinced for years now that when he does, it’s purely by accident.

Yesterday morning I must have hit the thermostat in the refrigerator, because everything in the freezer essentially thawed a bit. Paul noticed last night, I turned it back down and thought everything was probably okay–but this morning grabbing my breakfast sandwich I thought, no, better to throw everything away. The bag of frozen chicken breasts had frozen chicken juice in it this morning, so yeah–when I get home tonight I need to throw everything in there away. What a sad waste of money and food. AH, well, it’s payday and I needed to stop at the grocery store anyway, so I’ll be replacing some things on the way home tonight. Ah, well. I think I might need to do a short Costco run this weekend as a result. We’ll see. I just hate that I have to throw away that frozen shrimp. Ah, well. Naught to do but bite the bullet.

I was a bit tired this morning but the coffee is now kicking in and I am feeling better. We’re not terribly booked up today, so I can get caught up on Administrative duties. The freezer situation means I’ll have to DoorDash lunch again, but there are definitely worse things.

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

PS. I am purposely not mentioning what went on yesterday in the world because Jesus FUCKING Christ. This whole thing isn’t going to end well at all.

One of the many beautiful homes in my neighborhood–and that black vehicle is BLOCKING THE DRIVEWAY!
  1. The good news is President Stillson, like all bullies, backed down. However, the 25th needs to be invoked. ↩︎

Imperial Hotel

Sunday morning! It’s seventy degrees outside this morning, with the cold front not quite here yet; it’s going to start raining soon (per the forecast) which is part of the front’s arrival, along with shockingly low temperatures later on today. It looks very gray outside, the ground is wet, and I am incredibly happy I don’t have to leave the apartment today other than to take the recycling out, which I should do right now before the rain gets here. Hang on, I’ll be right back.

Okay, I’m back. My legs are strangely tired and a bit sore this morning–the Achilles tendons in particular again–so I think when I finish this I might do some stretching, which I should start doing regularly again. I never really had to when I was younger–being naturally freakishly flexible meant I didn’t need to, but it was bad to never develop a regular stretching routine. I wonder, if now that my anxiety is under control, maybe the gym won’t be such an anxious experience for me. I’d conquered gym fear back in 1995, but after so long away from it I always had that anxiety whenever I would go back and try to get done as quickly as possible. I am going to return after Carnival and hopefully stick to it; I definitely need more stamina, and I’d like to shave off some extra weight (but without the assistance of the damned ulcerative colitis, of course). I know I’ll feel better the stronger and healthier I get, too.

Yesterday was definitely a day of odd energy. I got up a little later than I should have, and wasn’t as motivated as I had hoped. I would be. I think it was partly the oncoming storm on the horizon that was unsettling? I did run some errands (seven boxes of books to the library sale) and had some things delivered. I also braved the grocery store the day before a horrible winter storm descends upon us here in southeastern Louisiana. It was pretty hectic and crowded, and the check out lines were lengthy. But they were checking people out with a high degree of efficiency (for once), so it didn’t take nearly as long as I had feared it might. It was a very gray day, too–it was just gray and windy and chilly. I got home and unloaded the car and put everything away and relaxed for a bit. Sparky curled up in my lap and I spent some time catching up on the latest horrors from the current administration of fascists and liars and murderers. I also spent some time rereading one of my favorite books of history–Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror. We also watched the first three episodes of Ryan Murphy’s latest pretty production of a disjointed narrative, The Beauty.

In all honesty, I am not sure what to think. of The Beauty. It could easily have just been another season of American Horror Story rather than a stand-alone series. I also could do without child sexual abuse supporter and a friend of Diddy who regularly attended the “freak-offs” on my television screen. I’ll watch, but we’re not giving Ashton Kutcher a redemption arc, thank you very much. I’ve also not seen his ex-wife’s The Substance, but there seem to be an awful lot of similarities between the two. There’s a lot of things that could be said about our American obsession with youth and beauty, but I seriously doubt we’re going to get it from a Ryan Murphy show. It’s also my thought that the show will go off the rails and stop making sense, the way so many of the Ryan Murphy seasons do, before long. One day I may be able to break my hate-watching need for Ryan Murphy’s deeply flawed productions, but we aren’t there yet. After we caught up on it, we switched to the Australian Open and watched that until it was time for bed. I also made dinner last night, so the kitchen is a bit messy this morning. I do think, though, that once I finish and post this I may go read for a bit before getting cleaned up and getting the house under control yet again.

And yes, we’ve had another murder of an American citizen–a male nurse, at that–in Minneapolis by the tax-payer funded Noem thugs. She, and the rest of them, all lied about it, of course; which she should be civilly liable for; I do think the victims’ families should be able to file wrongful death suits against Noem, Homeland Security, and this administration. So glad y’all couldn’t bring yourself to vote for the highly qualified Black woman because you didn’t believe she worked at McDonalds and had a stranger laugh you didn’t like. Fuck you all, now and forever. There can be no forgiveness without atonement and genuine remorse. I’ll probably carry that grudge to the grave. Have fun in church today, Pharisees.

It’s funny, because one thing I’ve been researching for a future book is the 1970s and its pop culture, which is fun and interesting–although the clothes and hairstyles can be safely left to the past and memory. But one of the biggest things I can remember in the 1970s was the Bicentennial; many now aren’t old enough to remember that. I’ll probably write an essay for the newsletter about the Bicentennial at some point. Remembering what a huge fuss was made for the Bicentennial makes it kind of surprising that no one seems to give a shit that the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence is this July 4th. Kind of ironic that it was written as a result of years of authoritarian British colonial rule and justice…while on a major anniversary of the signing we have elected our own authoritarians and tyrant to abuse our freedoms and liberties. The way they can bald-faced lie despite the overwhelming video evidence that proves they lie about everything and anything.

The lengths they will go to in order to distract from the Epstein files is pretty telling, isn’t it? It’s worse for them for the epstein files to come out than shooting American citizens dead in the streets.

That’s a pretty big fucking tell, isn’t it?

Well, the rain has arrived and it’s very dark now, so I am going to repair to my easy chair and my coffee and read some more Ken Holt and Eli Cranor. Stay safe and warm wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning. Thanks for stopping by!

Stand Back

Tuesday and back to the office with me this morning. I have tomorrow off to attend a memorial service for a friend, and then one more day back in the office before work-at-home Friday again. It feels weird to be up early this morning again, and my body is not really sure how to take it. I slept well–my blanket nest was very comfortable all night–and I didn’t want to get out from underneath it. But my coffee is tasting good, I am waking up, and my body doesn’t feel tired. My Achilles tendons are still a bit sore and tight, but that is nothing new and shouldn’t hold me back for the day. I do have an errand to run after work, but that’s not a big deal and it’s on the way home. I don’t know if we’re busy today in the clinic or not, but there’s naught to worry about until I am there and working.

Yesterday wound up not being terribly productive over all, and I am a bit battered this morning. You know how I always say I want to not be such a creature of habit and get out of the ruts I find myself in all the time? I’ve always found comfort in routine, in doing things the same way over again as a coping mechanism for anxiety and stress, so yesterday I decided to do things differently. Rather than making groceries in the morning I waited until the afternoon; I drove Paul to his office; and I made groceries and came home a different way–and had an accident. I wasn’t at fault or anything, but I was taking Baronne through the CBD and rather than turning on Howard to head up to St. Charles, I decided to go up to MLK and head down to Prytania. After I passed under the highway, I noted there was a city construction truck of some sort in the left lane just past Clio, but as I approached the intersection there I saw a car coming down Clio and into the intersection–turning right–who didn’t see me. In that split second I weighed all options quickly and calmly–okay I am probably going to be hit by that car how can I minimize the impact? I couldn’t turn into the left lane because of the parked truck; if I slammed on the brakes I would broadside him right where he was sitting, turning right onto Clio wasn’t an option (also a one-way) so the only option left was to floor it and try to get by without hitting him. I almost made it, too. He tagged me a glancing blow on the back end of the passenger side, but because I had sped up it wasn’t that bad. Had I braked we would have both had to go to the hospital, and I of course immediately pulled over. The poor guy didn’t know that my car was already dented and dinged from being parked! So I didn’t understand why he was so worried about me and my car because he thought he’d done all that damage to my car. I took a look, found the little bit that was new–it was hardly even noticeable–but his radiator was damaged and all the fluid was draining out. It wasn’t until he asked about insurance–and I’d made sure he was okay–that I realized what he was thinking. “Dude, you didn’t do this”–wide sweeping gesture at the side of my car–“it was already like this, and I’m not going to file a claim and make you pay to fix this! I am not that person!” So, we shook hands, we both apologized, and called it a day. However, my adrenaline had spiked and I also was a bit in shock, so by the time I pulled up in front of the house the shock had cleared and so had the adrenaline, and I was exhausted. I collapsed into my chair with Sparky and tried to read, but couldn’t keep my mind clear or focused, so just started watching sports highlights and whatever videos caught my fancy on Youtube with my purring kitty in my lap. I do love how cats can sense something is wrong or off and try to make you feel better. I am a bit sore this morning, but that is to be expected.

I hadn’t planned on watching any of the championship game last night, but I put it on while I was waiting for Paul to get home so I could make dinner and…it was a good game! I wasn’t vested in who won–a friend is a big Miami fan, so if pressed, I’d root for them, but if anyone had told me at the beginning of the season that Indiana would be in the championship game, I would have laughed; likewise had someone told me the title game would be Miami-Indiana. I wound up going to bed before it was over–Indiana had the ball, there were only a few minutes left in the game, and they were ahead 24-21–and woke up to see Indiana won 27-21. The miracle at Indiana! Other programs have turned around from sad and tragic, but not like this! Before, I would have said the big turnarounds were Tulane, Vanderbilt, and Kansas State–but none of them have gone undefeated and won the national title, either. Is Indiana the new college football dynasty? We shall see.

I also filled four boxes with books to take to the library sale this Saturday. You can actually tell this time, too, that I pruned the books!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday that feels like Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Long Violent History

Work at home Friday, with all kinds of stuff to get done today before I head out this afternoon for some medical appointments; maintenance checks, more than anything else and nothing serious. I was very tired at the end of my work day yesterday, but had to run an errand on my way home. By the time I got home my brain was fried and my hip joints were aching–they are again this morning as I swill my coffee and wait for my meeting this morning while doing data entry. I did not do a single chore last night when I got home, more’s the pity, so I am going to need to do those today and get this place straightened up and cleaned up. Heavy sigh. I didn’t do a whole hell of a lot last night other than watch the news and watch some research videos on Youtube. The coffee is kicking in now, and Sparky let me sleep a little while longer this morning, which was also kind of nice. I don’t think I’m going to leave the house today; I need to drop books off at the library sale tomorrow, so I might as well go get the mail and make groceries for the weekend then, right?

As the world continues to burn thanks to our grifting, greedy and soulless leadership in Washington, I must say the administration and the rest of the Epstein class (someone defined the super-rich this way on-line; I wish I could remember who it was to give proper credit, my apologies) are certainly doing their best to bring on the angry, violent mobs who’ll drag them to a guillotine on the mall after sacking the Capital and the White House. Remember, it’s not the left side of the equation in this country who resorts to violence; it’s his own base, whom he keeps pissing on every day, almost daring them to turn on him. I don’t know how so many people were conned, especially when he told them, throughout the campaign, that he didn’t care about them, he just needed their votes–and their arrogant smugness has certainly come back around and kicked them in the balls, hasn’t it? Thoughts and prayers, trash. I have as much sympathy for you, as you had for immigrants in 2024. I wouldn’t let any of you suck my dick if you were suffocating and there was oxygen in my balls.

I am also highly amused to see their precious Second Amendment and stand-your-ground and open carry laws blowing up in ICE’s fucking faces in North Carolina. The Right, always so arrogant in their firm belief that they are the real patriots and vox populi and that God is on their side, have convinced themselves over decades that the left, wanting common-sense gun laws, hate guns and don’t own any and don’t shoot. Let me introduce you stupid fucks to the deep South, where everyone is armed, pretty much has a room full of guns in their homes, and there are open-carry and stand your ground laws. Those also apply to the government, and if you think you’re going on private property to arrest immigrants you’re going to be run off with guns. After all, hasn’t their entire argument for unfettered and unlimited gun access always been that we need guns in order to defend ourselves against the encroachment of the federal government? And they are surprised that people are using their Second Amendment rights to prevent the feds from overreaching and attacking their neighbors?

And remember, there was a massive influx of Latino/Hispanic immigrants to New Orleans in the wake of Katrina to rebuild the city. Without them, who knows how long it would have taken for New Orleans to be a viable city again? New Orleans doesn’t consider itself to be part of Louisiana, you think we consider the Feds our overlords? Again, let me remind you that 83% of the New Orleans vote went to Harris/Walz, and the same went for Biden, and Hillary before them. Trump’s only friends in New Orleans are the super rich and the Archdiocese (which has also been covering up child rape for decades), and they aren’t going out there to stop protests and anti-ICE activity. Of course, our mayor is a lame duck and has been a grifting useless piece of shit for quite some time now (what is it about being elected mayor here?), and our governor is a such a sad and pathetic “pick me fascist” that he’ll be on his knees before his disgusting god-emperor with his mouth open with a snap of the fingers…I do worry about the safety of our people here, especially our immigrant population (and historically New Orleans has always been multi-cultural and we have large and interesting ethnic populations here; Isleños, Greeks, Irish, Jews, Filipinos, Italians, and of course, the trafficked Africans), but New Orleanians do not put up with shit from outsiders, so it’s going to be interesting.

New Orleans has a very long, and very violent, history–no matter what the metro area white flight racists claim, there was never a time in the city’s history when there wasn’t violence and crime here. They left when the schools were integrated because they are racist garbage–but they sure will tell people they are from New Orleans though, because no one anywhere knows or gives a shit about Metairie, Kenner, Mandeville, and so forth. How many destination weddings take place in Kenner or Metairie? Just asking.

Oh! I watched the first episode of The American Revolution last night, and it gave me a lot of thoughts. I may watch more of it tonight.

And on that note, best to get back to my data entry. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Werewolves of London

Tuesday morning, and we have survived to another day, haven’t we? And of course, my daily posts usually starting with some kind of commentary that boils down to “proof of life” at its most basic level is why people get concerned when I am not here every morning, isn’t it? The more you know…or more like, the more you think about something…which is certainly always the case with me.

Well, I slept really well last night and I feel pretty good thus far this morning. We weren’t terribly busy at the clinic yesterday (today, on the other hand, is a different story), and I ran errands on my way home from work. I’ll probably stop to make groceries on the way home (maybe), and this Friday I am taking the car in for some necessary maintenance (need to replace two tires, the air filter, and some other things need to be done). Tomorrow is pay-the-bills day, and maybe I can get everything done that I need to get done before the weekend so I can just stay home and read/write/clean. Yay! I’d like to get some writing done this week; I woke up to an email from my editor about Hurricane Season Hustle, and we need to schedule a call to discuss what remains to be done. Huzzah!

I also ordered the next dose of my injection medication yesterday from the specialty pharmacy, because I get to dose myself again in November. Look at me, staying on top of things and not blowing them off until the last possible minute. But I can also tell that it’s coming up, because I am having some slight stomach issues–but nothing serious; it’s what reminded me to go ahead and order it. Not to worry, Constant Reader–it’s the same thing I noticed in the last few weeks before I had my first injection last month. I don’t mind having a physical reminder, to be honest. I’ve become so forgetful lately that I worry about forgetting to order it–not as bad as I would have before anxiety medication, I need to point out–but am also hopeful those issues won’t be so bad once I am fully recovered physically from being sick this past spring. Now that I have sort of recovered from the trip, I am starting to feel more lively and alive this week, which is terrific. Alas, I do have to drive to Kentucky for Thanksgiving, which will be a TEST.

I am already dreading that drive, but will be listening to a Donna Andrews audiobook, which is really the best way to travel on long trips in the car. I cannot reiterate too much how delightful it is to listen to books in the car; I wish I had figured that out years earlier. Another one of those better late than never things, isn’t it?

We caught up a bit on Alien: Earth, which is a very interesting addition to the Alien IP. It looks like its going to finally get into what the xenomorphs are, where they came from, and what they want. I don’t remember a lot of the movies other than the first two (classics); I may have even not seen some of them and the prequels never really made a lot of sense to me. But we’re enjoying the show, and October seems like the right month to be watching it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a lovely little Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow on Pay the Bills Wednesday!

I have such a crush on adorable Freddie Stroma!

Ruin the Friendship

Monday morning and I am back at home, getting ready to face another day at the office. I am very tired this morning. I drove home yesterday and was exhausted once I did get home. I managed to unpack and get some things done, but not a lot. One thing that was rather blissful while I was gone was being almost completely out of the loop as far as the country and world are concerned–and it was kind of nice, actually. I started writing an entry while I was up there that I never finished and posted, either; I will try to get that finished at some point today. I have to leave early to see my GI specialist, and then I need to run some errands before I get to come home. Gah, I am tired. It’s going to not be an easy week, methinks. I also committed to going to Kentucky for Thanksgiving, which seriously won’t kill me, will mean a lot to my sister and father, and probably will get me over the Mom’s holiday thing. It’ll be three years on Valentine’s Day next year. Sigh.

I listened to Adam Cesare’s Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives! on the ride to and from this past weekend, which I really enjoyed; a perfect choice for Halloween Horror Month. I don’t know that I’ll do a review of it or not; I haven’t decided and I have a lot that I need to get done over the next few days–we’re having a site visit this week, so I definitely am behind on getting things ready for that and I have all kinds of catching up to do. Daunting, yes, but nothing I cannot handle once I’ve made a to-do list, which I’ll have to do later on this morning–one for the office, one for me personally–so I can make sure I am not forgetting anything that I need to get done. My coffee tastes good this morning (must put ‘clean coffee machine’ on said to-do list) and I am taking that as a good sign that, despite feeling a bit run down and tired this morning, I will have a terrific day.

I am SURE of it!

Last night, after getting sort of caught up on the news a bit (I still feel very out of touch this morning), we started getting caught up on shows, and we also started watching Boots, the new Netflix show about a gay kid who somehow joins the Marines before “don’t ask don’t tell”; when being gay was an automatic dishonorable discharge and perhaps even some time in a military prison. (IT WASN’T THAT LONG AGO KIDS!) We’re really enjoying it thus far, and the actors are all pretty to look at. I didn’t think I’d enjoy a show about marine boot camp (at least not after seeing Full Metal Jacket), but I actually did. I also got caught up on The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which was fun, and really the only one I pay attention to anymore. I also read Chris Grabenstein’s The Hanging Hill, which I enjoyed as some light reading. It’s a middle-grade book, I’d say, and the kind of thing I would have loved when I was the right age for it. I can see why he’s so popular with kids–and he’s a lovely person to boot; I’d bought two of his books when we met and were on a panel together at Sleuthfest about ten years ago. (I do recommend Sleuthfest, writer friends and aspiring writers; it’s a marvelous crime conference put on by the Florida chapter of MWA.)

And now I get to settle back into the real world and my real life again. After my doctor’s appointment I am going to run pick up the mail and stop to get some fresh berries for my breakfasts at the Fresh Mart before coming home and doing some chores before cat-bonding and getting caught up on the news (sigh) and what’s going on in the world. I very deliberately disconnected from my phone and didn’t use it for anything other than deleting spam email for five days. I highly recommend this process for everyone from time to time; we do need to remain informed about what’s going on in this horrifyingly enflamed world. It helped my mental state dramatically.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’ll try to get that trip blog post finished this week, and I even started a newsletter essay I would like to get done. Have a great Monday, and I will be back at some point soon.

Got a Lot on My Head

Tuesday morning, and I am feeling super good about yesterday. I did get a bit tired in the afternoon, but I did make it through my entire work day successfully. I also came home and wrote; the document was about 3500 words, and it’s now over five thousand–but it was one of those revision things where I was adding while deleting, so I don’t know how many actual new words came from this go over; but I do know it was at least fifteen hundred more.

Not too shabby for someone whose mojo hasn’t been mojoing for a while!

Needless to say, I am most pleased with myself, and was feeling more than a little smug last night when I went to bed. I am awake this morning and feeling rested yet again, which is enormously pleasing, the coffee is going down very well, and while my sinuses are in a bit of revolt this morning, there are much worse things. Paul worked very late, so we were only able to watch one episode of Smoke, and if I was okay with but mildly indifferent to the show after one episode, now I am all in. There was a huge surprise twist at the end of the second episode, which was, over all, far superior to the first. Well done, Dennis Lehane.

I also sent out a newsletter yesterday, about Megan Abbott’s El Dorado Drive, but there were some other points I wanted to make that I forgot about until, naturally, the newsletter had been finalized and sent. Sigh. Ah, well. What I had wanted to say was the book was really about women’s independence, and what they are willing to do to achieve that end–which is definitely the kind of theme Abbott often explores in her work. Her books are just so damned smart and disciplined, and she just gets better and better with every book. The way she is so concise with her word choices and sentence structure, how she is able to paint an entire portrait in just a few short sentences…mind-blowing and impressive.

Tonight I have errands to run after work yet again–I need to get the mail, return a library book, and make a little bit of groceries. They didn’t have Clorox wipes at Costco last weekend, and I forgot to add them to my grocery order like a bonehead. Ah, well, I needed to pick up the mail anyway. Which reminds me, I need to make a list, just like I need to make a list whenever I order; I always look at previous orders to re-order, but if I need something I’ve not ordered before…you see how things get forgotten. I keep thinking make a list before you order and then I never do it, winding up leaving things I need off the order. I also loaded the dishwasher last night but forgot to turn it on. Genius! I’ll try to remember to turn it on before I leave for the office this morning. I also did some picking up, but I did forget about the clothes in the dryer, which I’ll get around to when I get home from work.

It’s not easy being June Cleaver, but I keep giving it the college try…

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines this morning. I hope to have a good day at the office, and will hopefully be back here tomorrow in the AM. Y’all have a great day, okay?

Il Duomo in Florence, always a magnificent sight.

While My Heart is Still Beating

Sunday morning and my headache is back. Paul had Aleve on hand (I was out) and that made the headache and stiff neck go away yesterday; I will definitely be taking some more in a moment as well as having some in the groceries I am having delivered later on today. Yesterday was another lazy day in which I did very little, as I spent yesterday afternoon’s massive thunderstorm getting caught up on the Epstein files scandal. I’m kind of impressed that this is what it took to turn MAGA–and they aren’t all completely turned, either; they are roasting Pam Bondi (who has been notorious garbage since her service as Attorney General of Florida–the multi-divorced hypocrite fought same-sex marriage as much as she could with her limited brain) and many are still focusing their rage on her rather than her boss–does anyone believe Bondi wouldn’t release it all if her foul lord and master told her to? Therefore, it stands to reason that the monster is the one telling her not to; and why would that be? I can absolutely believe the Biden administration did not release it all–not to protect Democrats, but to avoid the accusations of political partisanship that would have rung out from Mar-a-Lago, Fox, and Newsmax like a clarion bell.

I mean, that does sound like the way the Democratic Party thinks and operates, doesn’t it? Putting country (and in some cases, donors–looking at you, Fetterman) first and ahead of party is very much a Democratic thing, which could be why they lose so much. If Biden believed releasing the information wouldn’t be good for the country, he wouldn’t release it, period. (Not to going to lie, the Democratic Party has disappointed me time and again throughout my life–but I keep voting for them because at least they finally came around on queer rights. And no, #notallDemocrats, but at least they aren’t trying to take our rights away actively, the way MAGA is.

By the time the thunderstorms passed, I was worn out emotionally from the rollercoaster of getting caught up on the news, and not really in the mood to do much of anything. I spent the rest of the evening researching history for current projects, and then we watched more of Too Much. I have to say I am really impressed with Megan Stalter’s performance as the main character; it’s a completely different character than she plays on Hacks, and she really is convincing. The last episode we watched, which explores the relationship she had that ended badly, and is why she moved to London, was heartbreaking, and that was entirely due to her performance.

I didn’t even read anything yesterday. I never unloaded the dishwasher, we didn’t go to Costco, we didn’t go see Superman (which is getting RAVE reviews everywhere, which makes me happy as I have always been a Superman stan), and nothing much is different about the house from yesterday morning. Sigh. I was thinking about making a grocery run, but think I may just have stuff delivered and pick up other stuff on the way home tomorrow. I also have an infusion tomorrow morning (Part II) so I get to sleep a little later in the morning, too. I’m hoping I won’t be as dog-tired and fatigued as I was after the first one, but…it remains to be seen. I do wonder if the lackadaisical way I felt all last week, and the low energy, was from not taking the steroid anymore. I may ask about that tomorrow at the infusion center.

Other than the headache, though, I feel pretty good this morning. Once I finish this I am going to run upstairs and take some Aleve to knock out this headache, and then I am going to make a grocery list for ordering. I am going to do my chores this morning–no need to get caught up on the news, since I did so much of that shit yesterday–and then I am going to try to get the kitchen and living room under some kind of control, some semblance of order before reading and writing. The Wimbledon men’s final is this morning, but I don’t think I’ll turn that on–as it is too easy to get sucked into the television and then sit there for the rest of the day; not going to lie, Sparky used me as a bed while I watched the news yesterday and I never want to disturb him when he’s being a love bug. He’s so sweet and adorable when he’s affectionate like that–which is why I wound up doing nothing but bonding with my cat.

And I know if I sit in my chair again, he’ll crawl up into my lap and go to sleep today, too.

My test results from Friday are back, and all seem to be okay as best as I can tell. The X-ray showed nothing wrong with my hip, but there’s a reason why my left thigh feels numb, right? We just have to figure out what is causing it. It’s not like it’s life-threatening or anything–but…I am immunocompromised now, and I am not entirely sure what all that means, or how it will affect me physically. I guess I should find out at some point, right?

And on that note, I am going to head upstairs and grab some Aleve. I am also hungry, so am going to have to make something else to eat this morning….nice that my appetite, absent for the last few days, is back again. Have a lovely Sunday, sorry about the political chatter, and I will be back tomorrow morning or even perhaps later!

The Martyrdom of St. Denis