Tag: mental-health

Old Hippie

Good morning!

Well, here it is New Year’s Eve yet again, with 2025 taking its last breath tonight at 11:59:50 p.m. I’m not going to celebrate the end of an awful year (it was pretty awful for everyone, I think) because who know what fresh horrors 2026 will bring in its dreadful wake?

I mean, the year wasn’t all bad, was it?

Let’s start with the bad, shall we, and get it out of the way first?

I lost four dear friends this past year, people who’d been part of my life since before I was published, and had always been active cheerleaders of mine, both personally and professionally. Their loss is still felt; I think at least every day I have a moment of oh I should email Victoria to see what she thinks and then have the jolt of remembering that I’ll never have another lengthy conversation via email with her (we stopped talking on the phone because we’d talk for hours and lose track of time; I can’t tell you how many times one of us was late for something because we were on the phone) again. We lost Dorothy Allison after the election in 2024, but I am counting that as part of 2025’s losses, because it was so close to the end of the year. And of course, Felice Picano and Patricia Brady. I don’t think I will ever not miss any of them.

Few things can make you feel your age like losing your loved ones.

I suppose the biggest thing that happened to me this past year was being diagnosed with ulcerative colitis and spending six days in the hospital. I know, I am certain you’re sick of hearing about me being sick; but it was something significant that happened to me this year and since this is a year-end round-up…you can, of course, also skip ahead if you’re sick of me being sick; God knows I was sick of being sick. We now think (we= me and my doctor) that the situation probably developed as long ago as 2019/2020; and I had bouts since then that I didn’t know was the ulcerative colitis and thought it was something else. Since it always cleared up, I didn’t worry about it. I blamed the brain fog, memory loss, and fatigue on having COVID in the summer of 2021. But those were also symptoms that something was wrong with me, just not identified as such, and of course, my criminally negligent previous doctor (who should lose his license to practice, frankly) couldn’t have cared less. But this last bout was bad and it was probably the worst five weeks of my life thus far, health-wise–and it did require hospitalization. I am now feeling the best I have in years, even farther back than the pandemic, and now I just need to rebuild my stamina and get back into better physical condition. Ultimately, that bad round of colitis turned out to be a good thing…

I think it’s pretty safe to say that it was a shitty year to be a US citizen on every political level. We have a jackass governor, an evil psycho for president, and the gang of idiots that are the cabinet, and don’t get me started on MAGA. There are signs, though, that it’s all going to collapse…just not soon enough. I just wonder how much of the country is going to get dragged down with them.

I read some excellent books this year, just not nearly enough of them. Some personal favorites are Murder Takes a Vacation by Laura Lippman, We Are Watching by Alison Gaylin, El Dorado Drive by Megan Abbott, Fever Beach by Carl Hiassen, O Jerusalem by Laurie R. King, The Hunting Wives by May Cobb; Holokua Road by Elizabeth Hand, The Get Off by Christa Faust, and Hall of Mirrors by John Copenhaver, amongst many others. I also reread some books that I always enjoy. I didn’t read many short stories, or essays, and that’s something I need to correct in the new year.

My favorite movie of the year was Superman. Period, no question, no arguments. There was also a lot of good television this past year, with lots of excellent queer representation across the board. Boots and Heated Rivalry showed that queers can be leads, and people will watch. (The enthusiastic reactions of some straight men to Heated Rivalry shocked me to the core.) While this fascist-adjacent administration tries to strip queer people of our rights, our dignity, and our citizenship, queer acceptance by the people is rising. Sure, there are still homophobic chodes out there, wrapping their bigotry (and ignorance) in the cloak of religious belief, but that will never change. The way MAGA took over evangelical Christianity, only to have regular church attendance fall sharply, is just *chef’s kiss* to me. Have fun in hell, apostates!

I wrote one book this past year, and it took me forever to do so, but… it will be out in February at long last. I also published three short stories in anthologies: “The Last To See Him Alive” in Celluloid Crimes; “The Spirit Tree” in Double Crossing Van Dine; and “The Rhinestone”, which was in Crime Ink: Iconic, edited by John Copenhaver and Salem West; a queer crime anthology I was very proud to be in. So, the year wasn’t a total wash; I just got seriously derailed last spring.

But again, I have to reiterate that getting derailed last spring was a good thing for me, because having enforced rest where I really couldn’t do much of anything–using my laptop was exhausting (I didn’t have a good place in my room to use it), I didn’t have any books with me (although I could have read on the Kindle app on my phone), and so my mind was wandering almost the entire time I was there (when it wasn’t focused on how horrible I felt). Lying in a hospital bed with literally no idea what is wrong with you (and none of the doctors or nurses know, either) is a major wake-up call; one that makes you have to sit back and take stock of your life and career and behavior, while recognizing/remembering how I used to put a lot of thought into my writing and my career and somehow, I just lost the thread of everything at some point in the 2010’s. I also got a hard dose of the reality that procrastination has always been my enemy, and I’d come out of the aughts kind of damaged; and rather than dealing with my ambitions or making plans to achieve my career goals.

My blog turned 21 yesterday, too; which is wild to me. My, how things have changed since I started blogging! It seems weird to have been blogging this long. I started while we were under the incompetent rule of George W. Bush, and before Hurricane Katrina, if that tells you anything. I don’t think there’s ever been a year where I posted every day, but still, even assuming I only did 300 entries per year, that’s 6300 entries, and averaging them out to 500 words each…that’s over three million words here alone.

Um, yikes?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow with goals for 2026.

How beautiful New Orleans is at night always awes me.

She’s In Love With The Boy

Tuesday morning, New Year’s Eve Eve, as it were, and Paul is leaving today to visit his family. I don’t much care for it when he isn’t home; maybe the first day or two are kind of nice and quiet and peaceful, but it starts getting on my nerves after a couple of days. It’s also amazing how empty the house seems when he’s out of town. Although, I suppose one day it might be something I’ll have to get used to? I will cross that proverbial bridge when I get to it. So, I will come home to an empty house tonight, and Sparky will glue himself to me for the next six days. There are worse things, I suppose, than cat cuddles on cold nights, and having a little tortie shadow following me around and never letting me out of his sight. I’m glad I only have to work tomorrow–Friday is my work-at-home day still–because he will be very traumatized when I get home after work tomorrow. He’ll not be so bad tonight–he won’t miss Paul until he doesn’t come home tomorrow at all. He really is the sweetest boy, and I’ll have to give him a lot of attention.

Which I do not mind in the least.

I found out yesterday that one of my dearest friends (and biggest supporters) passed away a few weeks ago. She’d been ill for a long time, so I hadn’t seen her in quite some time, because she had low energy and heart issues, and I am a lot (I am). I had actually thought the other day about her and how we needed to get over there to catch up and say hello…too little too late. Heavy sigh. The worst part of getting older is losing loved ones to the angel of death. That was the part I never thought about; I guess I was assuming everyone I loved would outlive me.

Apparently, that’s not going to be the case and I’ll probably wind up living to a hundred. Which would be just my luck, you know? I just keep going on and on, shouting at clouds and forgetting what I went into the kitchen for. Hurray. But I will miss her terribly. Oh, how hard she could make me laugh! And so incredibly smart, too; I loved talking to her about books and movies and television shows we enjoyed. She was a huge mystery fan, as well as holding a PhD in History (I’d jokingly call her “Doc” every once in a while, which she hated–I don’t know why I enjoy teasing people so much; I should probably stop).

Sigh.

But with Paul gone, I can watch some things I’ve been pushing off but meaning to get around to–my re-watch of the Brendan Fraser Mummy movies comes to mind–and there’s no excuse for not being able to get back into reading extensively again. I’m enjoying the two books I’ve started, but am not making much progress. My Noirmas was a complete bust, but I did get to reread The Postman Always Rings Twice, and I have some essays to finish for the newsletter. Noirmas is technically not over until Twelfth Night, January 6th, so I have time to get some of these other choices read before starting my next reading project, whatever it might be. Maybe some non-fiction? I’ve got some awesome non-fiction books on hand; maybe I should dig into those? Nonfiction February? That could be a winner, and I can then extend Noirmas through January.

I also am not certain why I am so focused on projects, but it makes me happy, so there’s that.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely New Year’s Eve Eve, Constant Reader and I shall be back on the last day of 2025!

I really hate his bikini….but the rest is nice, isn’t it?

Don’t Let the Green Grass Fool You

And it’s back to the office with me this morning. Bleargh. There are worse things, after all, and I don’t have to go in on Thursday, so that’s something. But it’s been a hot minute since I got up this early, so it feels weird to be sitting here, a bit groggy, with dark outside. But my coffee tastes good and the incoming cold weather doesn’t strike until tomorrow. Paul is leaving to see his mom tomorrow and won’t be back until sometime Sunday, so it’s just going to be me and a lonely, needy cat here for nearly a week. That’s okay; I don’t mind having Sparky glued to me at all times when I’m home. He really doesn’t like being left alone by himself, and he really doesn’t like it when only one of us is home. He’s a spoiled little baby, but he’s our spoiled little baby, isn’t he?

I feel surprisingly good this morning; it wasn’t a struggle to get out of bed and I was also able to resist hitting snooze repeatedly until I had to rush around the house like a madman, either. Today is my injection day, so I need to take it out of the refrigerator to thaw out for forty-five minutes before attaching it to myself. I also don’t know if today is an Admin Day or a clinic day; in either case, we aren’t busy at all this week so it’s not a very big deal, one way or the other. The rest of the week is very slow, too–we kick back into high gear next week, after the new year, as everyone’s insurance resets for a new calendar year. Woo-hoo! But my mood is good, I don’t feel tired, the coffee is going down well, and I am getting a bit hungry and may have to eat my breakfast sandwich here in a moment.

I was really hungry! But that sandwich hit the spot properly. I also have to do my every-eight-weeks-injection–and I can sort of tell it’s almost time. My digestive system hasn’t been painful or anything, but…I can tell when the injection is almost due. I’ve been very dehydrated lately, so need to focus on replenishing electrolytes this week, too; this is all related, of course, to the UC (bastard that it is). I am sure everything will be fine once I pump the medicine into my abdomen for five minutes. So exciting!

We watched Cover-Up, the documentary about Seymour Hersh, which was very interesting. I hadn’t thought of Sy Hersh in years, but have always appreciated his reporting work. He does kind of come across as a bit of a dick in the documentary, but they don’t make journalists like him anymore, which is a pity. My formative teen years (the 1970s) was a decade of spectacular journalism, which made me think that the bad old days of yellow journalism and if it bleeds it leads were a thing of the past and all journalists were ethical and did things the right way and protected the public interest all these years…Fox and our current embarrassment of legacy media is definitely something that needs to be fixed in the future, but our system has become so corrupted that they don’t even bother trying to hide it anymore.

Brigitte Bardot, the Nazi skank who couldn’t act, died. Hope she’s enjoying the flames of hell like the racist homophobic piece of shit deserved. You didn’t become famous for your intellect, madam. After Anthony Geary and Rob Reiner, it was nice to not feel a bit sad when a celebrity died.

The long holiday weekend was lovely, even if I accomplished very little. I did run the dishwasher before I went to bed last night, so I need to unload it tonight, and pick up a few things around the apartment. I also have to make a bit of groceries on my way home from work tonight–nothing major, nothing much, just a couple of things to get me through the week. Tomorrow night I’ll need to swing by the post office to pay the rental and pick up the mail for the last time in 2025…2026 might be worse than 2025, but at least for now there’s the promise of things getting better somehow. I usually do start the year with optimism…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely last Monday of the year, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back here for New Year’s Eve Eve tomorrow.

The End of the World

Don’t they know, it’s the end of the world…it ended when you said, goodbye…..

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and a lovely day, indeed. I slept really late this morning, after a big day of getting things done and running around town. I got up in the morning and did some chores (still need to unload the dishwasher), so have a bit of touching up to do today to make it look nice again. I ran some errands in the morning, picking up the mail and getting my present to myself (new LSU house shoes), caught up on the news, and then we went to Costco, where we got our new television…it’s ENORMOUS, and today I am going to spend a little time getting it all hooked up, trying to remember passwords, and hopefully it’ll be operational for the LSU bowl game this evening. We didn’t do a BIG Costco run, but we picked up a few things. Paul is leaving Tuesday and coming back on Sunday, so there wasn’t any point to doing a big shop there. I ordered pizza from That’s Amore in Metairie to be delivered, and we settled in for a nice evening watching the season finale of Heated Rivalry (more on that later), before Paul went up to work on the upstairs while I watched research videos on Youtube.

As I said, Sparky let me sleep in until after nine this morning, which was wild, but doing all that yesterday wore me out, I guess. I wasn’t tired at all yesterday, but clearly went to bed and slept for over ten hours. So, 2026 is clearly going to be, and needs to be, about getting myself into better physical condition, which isn’t going to be easy at sixty-four going on sixty-five. But I look forward to this new challenge! One of my primary goals for 2026 is definitely going to be getting myself into better physical condition. I don’t care about losing weight or how I look; I just want to be able to do things and not exhaust myself. Now that the over-arching fatigue has finally come to an end, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem anymore, but I need stamina more than anything else. The stamina is getting better–I didn’t have to collapse into my easy chair last night when we got home, for an example–but clearly, I depleted energy reserves that needed to be recharged over night. There are some things I need to do that I could do today, but I don’t know that I’ll get to them or have the motivation to do them. I mean, the television itself is going to be an enormous, if necessary, pain in the ass–just remembering the passwords for streaming services and other apps is going to be nightmarish and will undoubtedly wind up with me having to reset any number of passwords. Heavy heaving sigh. I do want to get some reading and writing done today, too. I think I’ll finish this, put the dishes away, and read for a while before getting cleaned up and setting up the television.

So, Heated Rivalry. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this final episode (until 2027), but what we got was a very sweet episode that ended with the boys ultimately coming out to Shane’s parents. This is a perfect set up for the next season–they are a couple now, with a plan to keep things quiet publicly, coming up with a charity they can start together as well as Ilya changing teams to Ottawa, so they will live only a few hours apart–which I was wondering about. I know the book series focuses on a different couple with each new story, so I was wondering how that would work–would they do a Bridgerton, or will they continue to focus on Shane and Ilya? I enjoyed this show a lot more than I expected to, honestly; I would also recommend it highly. I’m not going to go into more detail because I am going to do a newsletter about it, trying to ground it within the realm of queer media representation…and how glad I was that it wasn’t an American show, which never seems to really (with a few exceptions) get things right.

And I still have another day off! Whee!

And on that note, I am going to let Sparky have my desk chair and head into the spice mines to read for a moment. Have a great day, and I’ll be here tomorrow–probably earlier.

I love misty nights in New Orleans…

Tulsa Time

Well, it’s the Day After Christmas, aka the second day of Christmas as we head into the arrival of Twelfth Night and the start of Carnival, which means I can start getting cream cheese filled King cakes again. Yay for king cakes! I feel good this morning, and am up earlier than I rose on the actual holidays. There’s a lot for me to do today: the kitchen is a mess yet again because I didn’t clean up after making dinner; today is also wash the bedding day; we’re going to Costco; and I have other errands as well–the mail, a prescription. I also want to continue my organizing–all that running around probably isn’t conducive to doing much writing, so it’s going to be a reading/cleaning/organizing day mostly. And I need to get the cleaning done before we go to Costco.

But turning my mind off for two days was lovely. We finished watching Down Cemetery Road, which we enjoyed, and started Welcome to Derry, which didn’t really grab me, but we’ll keep watching. I also want to watch Frankenstein this weekend, and possibly get started on my The Mummy rewatching. Sounds pretty ambitious, doesn’t it? We only have New Year’s Day off this coming week, so it won’t be as lovely as this week has been, but it’s still kind of nice to have an extra day off in the week. But it’s back to reality now, and I can’t pretend I don’t have anything I need to get done anymore. Heavy heaving sigh. But I actually enjoy getting things done–it’s making myself do them that’s the problem. Once I am underway with everything, though, I don’t mind it. I even find cleaning enormously satisfying. Yes, I know, it’s not normal. I’ve proudly never been normal!

Well, I am back; I took a breakfast, coffee, and news break. Sparky had also parked himself in my chair while I was doing something and I wasn’t in the mood to start fighting him for my chair. But just as I was about to connect the laptop to the television, I noticed he wasn’t in my chair anymore and must have gone upstairs without me noticing. I’ve already started clearing everything out of the sink and tumbled another load of laundry in the dryer. So, ambition is firing on all cylinders thus far, although we’ll have to see how long motivation lasts and I can get things going and finished and so forth. I do want to get some writing done today, even if it isn’t very much; anything is a start, after all, and a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, doesn’t it?

How very zen of me this morning! It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore! But as 2025 slowly slides into 2026–hard to believe there’s only five days left in this year–I find myself becoming ever more introspective and reflective. It has been a dreadful decade for me (pretty much everyone else, too; it seems like everyone I know has had it rough for quite some time), and I did a lot of turning inward, as well as letting things go and learning how to say no and mean it; and stop worrying that people will think less of me for saying no. If I disappoint people, so be it; I’ve been disappointing people my entire life thus far so why should it change for the last few decades I hopefully have left? Worrying about disappointing people doesn’t make me not disappoint them, and the worrying, that horrific mind spiral, is exhausting.

And let’s face it–it’s not like other people worry about disappointing me, you know?

It’s seventy nine degrees this morning in New Orleans, with a bright sun and a clear blue sky; simply gorgeous. We’re also supposed to get a cold front next week, but it won’t be as horrible as it is everywhere north of here. Paul is also leaving to go see his mom and family on Tuesday (New Year’s Eve Eve) so I’ll be here alone on New Year’s, but that’s fine. Maybe that’s the day I’ll do my Mummy marathon rewatch?

Sounds like a good idea.

Also, Mississippi River Mischief is on sale for a mere $4.95 at the Bold Strokes website! In print! There’s also a lot of other great titles from BSB as well, for the same low price, through December 31! What are you waiting for! Follow that link!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines and running my first errands of the day! But never fear, I shall be back tomorrow morning with a full report on my day!

I love the lighting in this, and how the out of picture streetlight fades into shadow…

Got My Name Changed Back

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and all is well so far, at any rate. It’s cold this morning here in my workspace; but it will warm up during the day. I slept really well last night, and feel pretty good. Sparky got me up a little later than usual, and of course, the pile of blankets was enormously comfortable last night, too. I had the Oklahoma-Alabama game on last night while I did other things, and it was a decent game, from what I actually watched of it, with Alabama finally breaking whatever hold it was Oklahoma had over them these past two seasons and beating them. Good on you, Alabama. I imagine I will have the games on today while doing other things–after getting home from my errands that I need to do this morning. Yesterday was a good day; I got my work done and attended my meeting and worked on the apartment. I did a shit ton of laundry and cleaned the apartment thoroughly, even doing the living room floor. There’s some chores left for me to do in the kitchen, but it already looks so much better down here this morning! I also worked on the voice for Chlorine–which is crucial to getting to work on it, you know?

It’s always nice to have a lovely day, you know? It’s also super great to feel good without the exhaustion and fatigue, too. I think my dad and the doctor are 100% correct and the ulcerative colitis began in the summer off 2020, which is when the fatigue and exhaustion began, and the dehydration. It’s also nice to know that my bitter condemnations of myself as being lazy for not getting more done (which used to be the default setting) wasn’t actually laziness but a physical thing. I can’t remember feeling this good…so it’s been a hot minute, don’t you think?

One of the things I did yesterday was map out my essay series about my interest in Egypt and Egyptian things, and it was rather lengthy! I was trying to remember books about or set in Egypt (crime novels, mostly) that I read when I was a kid–I’m trying to remember the influences on me as a writer and how I got interested in certain things–and was amazed at how many there actually were, you know? And I am pretty certain I am not remembering everything, but the things I do remember are pretty clear and vivid in my head. I mean, Amelia Peabody is one of my favorite fictional characters of all time, so it would be very hard to forget a favorite character from a favorite author, wouldn’t it? I can’t really remember what triggered my interest in ancient Egypt; whether it was from the Encyclopedia or the movie Cleopatra, or even if it was one of those things. I just known I have had a lifelong interest in the art, architecture, and history of the ancient kingdom. (I also didn’t know how to pronounce pharaoh for years, pronouncing it “fair-ah-oh.”) I’ve also always wanted to write about Egypt; I’ve always been fascinated by Akhenaten and his religious revolution, and it’s aftermath–I also remember being endlessly interested in Tutankhamen. I know those Time/Life Great Ages of Man books triggered a lot of my imagination and interest in history.

I guess maybe I should have been an historian, and specialized in the sixteenth century. Oh, well. Coulda shoulda woulda never does anyone any good, does it?

If the weather is nice and lovely tomorrow, I think I am going to take a walk through the neighborhood with my phone, taking daytime pictures of Christmas decorations, and maybe on the night of Christmas Eve Eve, I’ll do it after I get home from work to capture them at night.

And on that note, I am going to go read for a bit before heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow.

The perspective on this shot is off, but in a kind of delightful way

I’m No Stranger to the Rain

Well, it’s Tuesday morning, so we clearly survived Monday, did we not? It was bitterly cold yesterday morning; I wore a sweater, a jacket, my hoodie under the jacket, and tights under my pants so it wasn’t terrible when I left the house in the morning, either. It’s cold again this morning, and will remain so for the morning; the afternoon won’t be too terrible. I didn’t mind the cold terribly yesterday, because I dressed for it for once rather than not doing so and whining all day about being cold. I hadn’t intended to dress for it again this morning, but looks like I will not have a choice. It’s chilly here inside the windows, but I slept well and feel pretty good this morning. I didn’t do much last night once I got home from work. I did make groceries on my way home, but once I was home and snug and comfy in my easy chair with a purring kitty and my blanket, I didn’t really want to get up and do much of anything, other than catch up on the news and do some more Youtube research. The news was its usual shit-show, the way it has been for at least ten or so years, if not this entire century. Whatever we thought the twenty-first century was going to be like in 1999 is not what we wound up with. Did anyone see this coming other than the Heritage Foundation, Faux News, and the Republican Party1?

I generally don’t comment on celebrity deaths; I don’t know the deceased, after all, and who cares what I think? I was a fan of Reiner and his work–The Princess Bride remains one of my all-time favorite movies, and so eminently quotable, too–and he made a lot of great films I enjoyed. He and his wife Michelle, as you know, were murdered on Sunday, allegedly by their son who has issues, which would have been bad enough but then, of course, sewage is always going to sewage. Even the dolts who are still hanging onto their belief in their tin-pot dictator wannabe, for the most part, were horrified by him this time; why was this time so different than every other time he’s been an insensitive spoiled brat? That’s what I truly find interesting about this latest idiocy. What was it about the Reiner tragedy that triggered such a response from his followers? I mean, it can’t have been empathy, right? So why this time? I can’t quite wrap my mind around this sea change for MAGAts, and I’ll probably wonder about it for a while. But the murders were a tragedy, but both Reiners left a distinguished legacy of work behind them–and Reiner’s films will continue to bring joy to viewers as long as streaming services carry them.

And I really need to do my essay on The Princess Bride, inspired by a conversation on Twitter where I wrote a lengthy tweet-string explaining why I find the movie so magical.

And while we’re commenting on celebrity death, Anthony Geary, long-time portrayer of the anti-hero Luke Spencer on General Hospital, also died recently. I watched the show in the 1970s and 1980s fervently, and Geary was no small part of that; and Luke-and-Laura were legendary in the world of soaps. Genie Francis still plays Laura on the show. The highest rated episode of any daytime soap was the wedding of Luke and Laura back in 1980 or 1981. Geary was gay; I don’t know that he ever publicly came out, but I read it in an article about him shortly after he retired from acting, I think. I guess that’s why I was always a fan. I never got a gay vibe from him, the way I have with other actors, either. So much for my Gaydar, although it’s easy to say it was a subconscious recognition.

I really need to write my General Hospital essay, too.

My God, I am so behind on literally everything. The good news is these are all just personal deadlines, so they are anxiety-inducing (not that I have anxiety anymore–at least certainly not to the life-controlling-and-strangling way I used to). Paul is doing an excellent job of clearing out the bedroom; and I should definitely take some time and do some pruning down of all my shit–including the books–and most especially my paper files. I don’t really feel like those need to be kept anymore, and it’s all just kind of hoarding of a different sort, isn’t it? I also need to clean out the kitchen cupboards, too, and the floors are just a given. Sigh.

We’re also supposed to have rain through the weekend beginning tomorrow, which is marvelous. Cold, gray and rainy makes for a snug weekend at home with Sparky, Paul and blankets. I am definitely going to do some reading this weekend, too.

I am also getting all of my Chlorine notes organized, so I can get into the feel of the book. As I said the other day (yesterday) I think I have finally landed on the character’s voice, and have decided that, despite it being technically a historical (it is set seventy years ago) I think I am going to write it in present tense. Maybe that’s a mistake, but switching from present to past would be time consuming but not terribly difficult to do. I may even try to write the first chapter this weekend, too, and see how it goes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a toasty terrific Tuesday, and I’ll be back in the morning.

  1. Christ, I am neither an analyst nor a political reporter, but I predicted this outcome back during the Clinton Administration. How did I see it but none of the people paid to be political experts did? ↩︎

Guitar Town

Monday and back to the office with me this morning. Huzzah? I have an Admin Day and my supervisor is out of the office until tomorrow. It’s also 32 degrees (!!!) this morning. My desk feels cold, and there’s definitely a chill here surrounded by windows. The apartment feels nice and toasty; we turned the heat on last evening as the temperature dropped. It kind of feels like Christmas now, you know? Warm weather at this time of year always seems wrong in some way. I did very little yesterday, and won’t apologize for simply falling into a spiral of not feeling like getting anything done for most of the day. I wasn’t tired; I just was kind of in a low-energy recharge state for most of the day. I did write some notes for the book, and started getting to the place where I feel like I finally have the narrator’s voice, and that was what was holding me back from getting started. I am hoping today to get some good background work done on it after work tonight, depending on how cold it’s going to feel on the way home and once I get here. I do have some chores to do tonight, too–which I should have done yesterday but alas, did not. No guilt, though, which is kind of a lovely feeling, and undoubtedly a result of the anxiety medication.

I do find myself thinking sometimes so this is what it feels like to be normal before realizing and remembering that there really isn’t a normal; everyone thinks they are normal because we only truly know our own experience, and our minds instinctively think that everyone is the same as us. I knew I wasn’t like everyone else very young, which was very unpleasant, and was absolutely terrified people would figure out I was different and it took years for me to reach a point where I didn’t much care about being different anymore and actually embraced it. I am also very literal and completely oblivious sometimes, which really bothers me…but being oblivious, I am not really aware of just how oblivious I am. I am oblivious about being oblivious, which is kind of weird.

But I did watch a lot of documentaries yesterday on Youtube; Paul’s not been feeling terribly well so he spent most of the weekend sleeping and resting, so I was pretty much on my own yesterday during the day. I watched one on the Hapsburgs (always fascinating to me), one on the Romanovs, and several other historical ones–a lot of legends and lore of the South and the Appalachians; and other tales of hauntings and murders. I was, of course, horrified about the latest round of mass shootings, and more than a little surprised that one wasn’t actually in the US but rather in Australia. Since the targets at Bondi Beach were Jewish-Australians celebrating Hanukkah, I can’t help but feel that anti-Semitism was at the root of this horror. All mass shootings are horrors, but these ones driven by bigotry and prejudice really bother me. There’s no justification for killing other than self-defense, and even then I am not certain how one lives with that sort of thing. The end result of bigotry and prejudice is inevitably violence; which is why hatred and hate speech is such an abomination.

Targeting people celebrating a religious holiday is especially egregious and evil, no matter what my views on religion are.

Sigh. But it’s Monday, and a new week and it’s back to the office with me in a bit. Christmas is next week, and once again, I failed to do Christmas cards and probably am just going to give up on that for the year. I do need to wrap a couple of presents, and I need to ship one to Dad, but does it really matter if it gets there before Christmas? Probably not.

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

All I can think is that he’s getting cold standing by the window in his underwear like this...although it could be a prompt for a Christmas crime story.

East Bound and Down

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well and peaceful. I have fed His Majesty, Tuglas MacSparkle, and he went back upstairs to cuddle in bed with Paul. Yesterday was a very nice day; I got my work done, as well as a lot of chores. I had groceries delivered, picked up the mail, and then relaxed into my evening. We got caught up on South Park (oh my GOD1), Heated Rivalry, and finished Death by Lightning before moving on to the latest Knives Out movie, Wake Up Dead Man, which referenced the works of John Dickson Carr (whom I have not read). I also watched a documentary on the French House of Valois, which was very interesting. All were thoroughly enjoyable, too. These Benoit Blanc mystery movies are so much fun, so cleverly written and filmed, and there’s always some pithy commentary on a social issue–in this one, religion and power–which doesn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer, but are there if you’re paying attention. The acting is also fantastic; Daniel Craig is terrific as Benoit, and Josh O’Connor is terrific as the main suspect, a compassionate priest confronted with a toxic parish led by a toxic churchman. I also slept really well last night, too–and His Majesty let me sleep later than usual, which was also very nice. Thanks, Sparky!

I do enjoy being rested, you know? I also need to do some reading and things this morning while I do some more chores. I need to get the dishwasher unloaded, the floors done, and some other filing and so forth finished. I also need to work on writing, too. I want to finish The Postman Always Rings Twice reread; the month is almost half over and I’ve done so little for Noirmas that it’s kind of sad. Maybe I’ll rewatch something classic this morning, or after Paul goes off to his trainer; there’s no football today, after all. I think I have both In a Lonely Place and The Strange Love of Martha Ivers on the Hulu DVR; either of which would work. Or perhaps some 1980s neo-noir? You can never go wrong with Body Heat or Masquerade, after all, or some of those other unsettling films from the 1980s.

But I also have to decide whether I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend or not; next weekend would be too late, of course, and I have to send Dad his gift in the mail–which is more of a joke gift, but it should make him laugh, and that’s what matters.

I also want to start paring things down again. Another sweep through the books, a box from the attic, and straightening and reorganizing the pantry and my cabinets and the refrigerator. I also am going to be working on gathering my Chlorine notes, so I can review them all and start sketching out the story and figuring out my characters and who they are and making it slick and tight. Obviously, the first draft will not be done by the end of the year, which is what I was hoping for, but time has this nasty habit of slipping through my fingers lately. (And by lately, I mean the last twenty years.) I already feel like this morning is slipping away from me already, too. Those kinds of thoughts used to lead to anxiety spirals, and no, I do not miss those horrible spirals in the least. They were exhausting, really; anxiety spirals always led to adrenaline bursts which inevitably left me exhausted and worn out and tired to the bone; like driving to Kentucky. This last time was wonderful. I wasn’t in the least bit concerned about getting there as fast as I could, didn’t worry about losing time, and recognized that the time driving was actually out of my control–traffic is something I am, and always will be, at its mercy–and as such, no adrenaline spikes and no anxiousness and no utter exhaustion when I finally arrived. It’s nice to be able to relax and listen to a book as I drive through the deep South.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee, another piece of coffee cake, and repair to my easy chair to read for a moment before getting cleaned up and my day started. It does look really nice out there; perhaps today I can take a walk around the neighborhood? We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s off to the spice mines with me for the day; may your day be whatever you wish it to be. I’ll be back again on the morrow.

Sexy, yes–but I can’t help but wonder if there are body parts in that bag for some reason.
  1. The fact that MAGA and Fox are pretending that the show isn’t viciously skewering this administration tells me that it’s definitely getting under their skin and scoring direct hits. ↩︎

You’ve Never Been This Far

Work at home Friday! I have to go to Quest this morning to get some bloodwork done (the joys of being an old gay in his sixties never stop, believe you me), but this is the last test for something new for awhile, and will determine whether I need additional treatment for something else… I don’t know, though. I feel pretty good and have energy and there’s not even a hint of brain fog anymore, which is kind of like having enough oxygen after breathing in smoke for years. I know that might sound extreme, but that’s how I look at it because that’s how it feels. I still have short term memory issues (i,e, going into the kitchen and forgetting why I went in there to begin with), but those are bearable and so much better than every other symptom of this nonsense I’ve been dealing with this decade. But, as I have said and will continue to say and believe, it’s so nice to know there was a medical issue to blame these past five-going-on-six years rather than it be from getting older and more frail and feeble. And, even with those issues, I managed to get things done anyway.

That’s something, isn’t it?

I did stop on the way home last night to make groceries, but forgot a few things (of course) so am going to have to go out this weekend to get those, or perhaps simply have them delivered. After I got home and Sparky commanded my attention while watching the news, I did get some laundry started, but that was about it. I went down some Youtube wormholes for research–I am writing an essay about US History, wrapped around the PBS series The American Revolution, with a shout out to Hamilton–which was a lot of fun. I do love me some history. I also am going to start writing my essays about powerful women of the sixteenth century, under the Monstrous Regiment of Women umbrella. I also scanned some notes from my journal for Chlorine, and I hope to get that finished today. There’s no college football this weekend, so Saturday yawns wide open and free.

I’ve already been to Quest to get the lab work done and have come home to finish this and do my work-at-home duties along with my other chores. I wasn’t gone more than thirty minutes, including driving and parking, which really isn’t bad. Of course, before the anxiety medicine I would have been sitting in the lobby, scrolling through my phone or reading my book or some combination of the two, while fidgeting the entire time. I left here just after eight and was back by eight forty, which isn’t terrible. Feeling good and better rested and losing the brain fog has made me really appreciate the anti-anxiety medication all the more, because there’s not that tension building inside all the time anymore, which is also very relaxing; not being tightly wound is quite marvelous, and I don’t know how I managed sixty years plus without said medication. Better late than never.

I saw yesterday that Liam Neeson did the narration for an antivax documentary singing the praises of RFK Jr, and the dangers of vaccines and the COVID hoax and so forth; welp, Mr. Neeson will never be watched in anything ever again in this household. It speaks a lot to who he is, doesn’t it? Either he’s a medical conspiracy moron, or he’s a whore who’ll take a paycheck no matter what he has to do for it. In either case, not someone whose career I have any interest in continuing to support any longer. (I also noted that Sydney Sweeney has also decided to distance herself from MAGA and her white supremacy antics–now that her career is taking and her films are bombing. Never forget that smug smirk on her face when she declined to comment on the controversy. She’s fucking trash. MAGA men just like your tits, bitch, they aren’t going to see your movies.) I also refuse to support any garbage actors who are getting Harry Potter paychecks in the future. You know who and what the Chatelaine of Castle TERF is; don’t plead fucking ignorance. You like blood money. Nice to know who’d be filming with Leni Reifenstahl in the 1930s.

I also saw the Supergirl trailer yesterday and really liked it. I’m sure the comic book incels will hate it, as they hate all women super-heroes. Seriously, little boys–why do powerful women trigger you so much?

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow morning.