Take It Any Way You Want It

And here it is Saturday in the Lost Apartment and as far as I can tell, all is well–at least for now. WE did get some rain last night–leftovers from Arthur, best I can tell–but the sun is shining and bright this morning, but everything outside is glistening and wet. I overslept big time this morning, which isn’t a big deal–I must have needed the rest, and Sparky was a cuddlebug, too, which made getting up even harder. I don’t think I am going to leave the house the rest of the weekend, unless I make a quick run to the Rouses in the CBD. I do feel rested and good this morning, which is a very good thing. I am going to try to do some reading and writing today around picking up and organizing; I got the dishes and laundry taken care of yesterday. The kitchen looks good, and really, picking up and doing the floors is all I have to do, other than organize, for housework.

I wasn’t fatigued yesterday so much as I was low-energy, so I did a lot of relaxing around the chores. I watched a lot of videos ofWorld Cup tourists enjoying the US for the first time, while hating the fact that MAGA is making compilation videos of how “great” America is after the Europeans have been “lied to by their leftist media” about America. Question for the closeted MAGA influencers making this “gotcha” videos: what do you think Europeans thought of the videos from January 6th? And actually, isn’t this proof that America is already great? But then again, logical thought processes aren’t exactly MAGA’s forté, are they? We also watched most of America’s Sweethearts, with one left to go, and I don’t think I enjoyed this season as much. This is the first of their three seasons that filmed after the earlier seasons truly started airing and becoming globally popular–and that they are all too aware of how they are coming across to the audience and the cameras. Judy and Kelly aren’t the same as they once were, and seem to be a lot more concerned about coming across as mothering and nurturing and supportive, instead of the relentless bitches who know what they want when they see it and aren’t settling for anything less. Loving but tough isn’t, sadly, as fun to watch; they were kind of endearing in their relentless drive to preserve and expand their brand; the Netflix show was a smart move for them, but I think they weren’t expecting a significantly larger audience than they used to get on TNN. There’s also something to be said about the Madonna/whore dichotomy on display here, too, but I will leave that to the feminist scholars to deconstruct and examine. Today, we’ll finish the cheerleaders’ show, get caught up with Cape Fear and Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, and probably start the new Harlan show on Netflix.

I was pleased to see the US men’s team defeated Australia in Seattle yesterday, and yes I am actually thoroughly enjoying all the fans from other countries living their best lives. I love the Norwegian rowing chant, and watching the international fans all dance and sing and cheer and do their traditional chants has been absolutely delightful. I don’t remember the World Cup from 1994, the last time it was here, but that was also pre-Internet and social media. (I also love watching Europeans talk about why so many of us don’t have passports–“Because you never have to leave to experience a different culture, landscape, weather!” I love that the diversity of each state from one another fascinates them. I also watched a group of English guys driving from Dallas to Nashville; one mentioned it was a longer drive from the top of Scotland to the bottom of England) I’ve also enjoyed the hell out of Freddya78’s voyage through the US and reactions to everything he sees. I do have to confess, though, my favorite of all the fan reactions is the cute Italian guy thrilled to death by free refills on soda, or his shock at the size of a Whataburger medium cup. The tourists were originally joking about the “FIFA 15,” like the “freshmen 15” in college, only they’ve now upgraded it to the “Fifa 50.” I also love how the American culture they are enjoying so much is the stuff we take for granted and don’t give a second thought to–I only eat fast food, as a general rule, when I am on the road or as a “I don’t feel like making lunch” thing. I never go to a Chili’s or the Cheesecake Factory or any place like that; I live in New Orleans and I like to actually cook, but it does my heart no amount of good seeing them loving their stay here so much.

Also, loved the joy in New York when the Knicks won. These things always remind me of the year the Saints won the Super Bowl, and what an amazing time in New Orleans that was. We need more joy in this country, seriously.

And on that note, tis time for me to head into the spice mines. I am going to take my coffee and read for a bit before I take a shower, and hopefully will spend some time on my work space and the kitchen today as well. May you have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

O Mighty Isis! Relief at Karnak

Precious Time

Happy Juneteenth! And to all the whining racists out there, shut the fuck up and have all the seats. Are you working today or getting paid to stay home? If the latter, you really need to fuck all the way off into the sun.

Sparky let me sleep in this morning, which was very nice. I did some chores last night (we also watched a few episodes of America’s Sweethearts, but not really feeling the show this time around), so the kitchen doesn’t need as much work as it usually does over the weekend, which is nice. I also have some more chores to do this morning–I need to finish laundering clothes and do the bed linens, an unload/reload the dishwasher, and the floors. I also need to tackle my workspace, too–it’s been out of control for far too long at this point, seriously.

Yesterday was a rather dreary and damp day. Arthur’s conditions (he passed north of New Orleans) dumped a shit ton of rain on us all day yesterday, which I usually like, but I wasn’t at home under my blankets so it wasn’t as enjoyable as it usually is for me. We also had three (!!) tornados touch down in the metro area–none near me, thank the heavens–but one started in Avondale, another started in Harahan and tore its way through the cemeteries on its way to the lake front, and one on the west bank that started near Houma and spun its way up the bayou. As far as I know, there were no fatalities but a lot of damage. It’s sunny this morning–we were supposed to have more rain today–and I think I’ll have some things delivered so I don’t have to leave the house today. It’s weird not having to do work-at-home duties on a Friday, but it’s also kind of nice.

Can you believe he agreed to this shitty deal with Iran and signed it at Versailles? What other treaties have been signed there? Well played, France, as well as the gift of a bike to him. Chef’s kiss no notes on the trolling that he is too stupid to understand. Yup, that’s their golden calf–the one they sold their souls, intelligence, patriotism, and consciences to…and they went incredibly cheap. We can’t have universal health care, we can’t have free education, we can’t give kids free lunch at school, we can’t have so many things….but we can afford $300 billion more to give to Iran as “sorry we blew up your country, please let the oil flow.” Sounds like the desert country with the precious spice actually did hold all the cards. Are people still worshiping at this shrine? The right has been itching to go to war with Iran since the hostage crisis; they finally get a guy who’ll give it to him and he fucks it all up. But hey, you got rid of Roe v. Wade at least…it’s almost like God is punishing the United States for doing that. (Hey if they can blame hurricanes on queer people, I can blame whatever the fuck I want on them and will.)

Anyway, I know I am tired of all this winning, aren’t you?

Sigh.

I’m going to play today by ear, but the primary goal is cleaning up, resting, and reading for the holiday. I may do some writing, but maybe not. I feel pretty good and rested this morning, too, which is nice. There’s also a new Harlan Coben show on Netflix to watch; we always enjoy his shows, and plus, it’s not every day you get to watch a television series produced and written by someone you know. Come to think of it, I know any number of people who’ve had movies and television shows made out of their books, which is pretty fucking cool. My life is far more fabulous than it has any right being, you know?

And on THAT cheery note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’m getting some more coffee to watch the news with, maybe read for a bit, and then get cleaned up before I order groceries for delivery. I hope you have a marvelous holiday doing whatever you like, as I will, and I will of course return tomorrow morning.

Those thighs! Dat ass! Either a soccer or rugby player, for sure. Based on the arms, I’m going with rugby.

It’s a Tuff Life

And somehow, it is already Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again somehow, which is wild to me, you know? Yesterday was okay. I had slept weirdly Monday night; I kept waking up. The first time was at 12:30, and then it was every hour or so until the alarm went off. Sparky has now taken to getting into the bed before the alarm and cuddling with me until it starts beeping; then he feels he can whine at me, smack my face with his paw, rub his cheeks all over my face while purring. It’s kind of nice, actually. We had off and on rain from this as yet unnamed (it will be Arthur, if it gets more organized) tropical system off the coast of Texas. This storm is predicted (at least as of now) to came ashore along the state line with Texas and then blow northeast across Louisiana. It’s not going to pass directly over New Orleans, but we’ll be on the east side of it, which means a lot of rain…they’re thinking between ten and fifteen inches between now and Friday…which could be a problem. Our street has only flooded once, and even then, my car was fine because I was parked across the street, which is higher than our side. Sigh.

I was also a bit on the groggy side yesterday, and I originally thought it was because of the sleep interruptions, but when I got home from work I had a massive sinus attack. Of course my sinuses were going to react to the pressure change from a tropical system. Ah, well. I was a bit tired when I got home, so just relaxed a bit and hung out with Paul and Sparky in the living room. (We also finished watching Bring Me the Beauties, which is completely insane.) I didn’t do anything once I got home from work because I was a little drained from the day. I’d started off feeling a bit off, but really hit the wall in the afternoon. We were busy in the clinic (not so much today, so I can get caught up on things), so that kept me on my toes, and I literally collapsed into my easy chair once I’d gotten home and changed into my sweats.

The air is very heavy and damp this morning, which really makes me want to go back to bed and get under my blankets. Here’s hoping this doesn’t lure me into sleepiness! But seriously, is there anything better than being under blankets and warm when it’s damp and cold?

I didn’t do any writing or reading yesterday, either, which is understandable, given the weird head-space I was in yesterday. I am hoping my mind’s creativity isn’t groggy today, and really, that’s what was groggy yesterday and is a bit this morning, too–apparently my intelligence is groggy this morning too. This is what I mean by malaise. Sometimes after doing some writing I need to let my brain and creativity recharge and power up again. I do have things to do when I get home, and I have to run an errand on my way home as well. The kitchen is almost out of control again, so I need to do the dishes and empty the dishwasher and reload it and there are several loads of laundry that need doing. If I can stay focused when I get home, I can get that stuff done before we settle in for the night. We also started watching the new season of America’s Sweethearts, which is always interesting to me. We’re OG’s with this show–I remember when it was on TNN as Making the Squad. It’s the same show, but they clearly have a much higher budget and Netflix exposed it to the world…meaning the individual girls now have lots of fans and demands on them, as opposed to them as a team. An interesting turn of events! Can Kelli and Judy keep that team spirit alive in the girls in the face of all this attention? Stay tuned!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday everyone! I’ll be back here tomorrow!

Step by Step

How on earth is it Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again already? As my grandmother used to day, “lord, have mercy” (it sounded like lawd-a-mersuh) But the week has gone rather well thus far, so no complaints on that score. I did feel a bit tired yesterday afternoon at work, but I just keep my head down and keep plugging away. I was very organized and efficient at work yesterday, too, and I have some catching up to do this morning but that shouldn’t be much of a problem. We’re aren’t terribly busy today, either, which is nice. We also started watching a new series on Netflix, Unchosen, which is about a British cult (fictional), but it’s incredibly well done and chilling–and like Trust Me: The False Prophet, focuses on a woman victim of the cult who is starting to think the cult may not be what it’s presented to be. (Watch Trust Me–you literally can trust me on this.) I’ve always had a mild interest in cults; I remember when they found the corpses at Jonestown when I was in high school. There was also a cult in the county seat where we lived in Kansas. They had purchased the campus of a defunct religious college and taken it over as a “religious college”–but only the religion was their cult. Those people were creepy as fuck, and it was even scarier the way they would corner people to proselytize; it happened a few times to me at places as varied as McDonalds, a gas station, and the grocery store. I looked the cult up a few years ago, when I remembered how weird that was–for a religious, deeply conservative Midwestern state, a lot of weird fucking shit goes on there–and they’re declining. The campus was sold to a local land-grant university, and I even found a book by someone who had left the cult. that I ordered but haven’t read yet.

There are still so many Kansas stories I want to tell.

I was also thinking about the hypocrisy of the entire “tradwife” thing. For one thing, traditional farm wives who baked their own bread and churned their own butter generally didn’t have running water in the house or electricity; so these grifters trying to sell this brand shouldn’t be using what the women they are emulating would have called witchcraft. Just a thought. And isn’t it interesting that conservative women are trying to sell women on the notion that it’s better to be so fucking busy in the kitchen and the daily chores to think about what they actually want from life. There’s a harrowing passage in Robert Caro’s first volume of the LBJ biographies he’s writing about what a day in the life of a rural farm wife was like, and I’ve never forgotten how awful and hopeless their lives were when they had to boil clothes and run them on a washboard to clean them–and having to cart the water from the well, which took multiple trips, not to mention trying to keep the house clean and the larder stocked and cook and take care of the children. (Loretta Lynn remembers those hard times with love and through rose-colored glasses in her song “Coal Miner’s Daughter.”)

It’s so patriarchical, isn’t it? “Keep your woman busy so she won’t have the energy to think about how much inequity exists in her life. She’ll be happier.1

Remember when I was talking about how some show business people decided to turn Colton Underwood into THEE GAY of the moment, and gave us a reality show where Gus Kenworthy tried to show him how to be gay? I think it was called Coming Out Colton. I didn’t watch, and kind of thought it wasn’t very well thought out–“oh, look, an NFL player and former Bachelor has come out, and is a beautiful blonde blue-eyed young man, let’s give the gays a star”–but may watch it someday2. ANyway, the other example of not knowing what the queers want (her reality show revealed how horrible she was), Caitlyn Jenner, was interviewed by the unspeakably vile Tomi Lahren the other day and was whining about her passport being renewed with an M gender marking–entirely due to the policies she actually voted for.3 And of course, being a true piece of confused moronic trash, she “still loves Trump.” Yeah, he ain’t helping you with the passport thing. You’re no use to him anymore. I’d say maybe she’d wake up and pull her head out of her ass, but she’s been in that horrific Kardashian universe for so long it’s undoubtedly broken her brain.

I also did some chores last night; I thought I had turned the dishwasher on before I went up to bed last night, but apparently I didn’t; so I’ll have to empty and reload again when I get home tonight. I also think I’m going to do a load of laundry, too–or maybe that should wait until tomorrow night after work, so I can get another day’s worth of dirty clothes in there and only have the bedding to do on Friday.

I didn’t write anything fictional yesterday; I’m trying to figure out the best way to get the information I need my main character to get in this chapter. I’ll probably go over the nearly two thousand words I’ve already done to edit and revise and add some layers to, which should get me back into the story. It was a struggle yesterday, so I gave up and worked on some essays instead. (I started to say write anything, but caught myself and remembered–nonfiction counts. Rather proud of myself.)

The MAGA civil war continues to entertain. The Candace Owens/Laura Loomer war is hilarious; they are both monsters, but it’s lovely seeing them using their vitriol on each other instead of others. I love that The Onion bought Infowars and Alex Jones is financially ruined, which isn’t everything he deserves but is a good start. He and his followers are clearly heartless and soulless ghouls. I cannot imagine telling parents grieving their murdered children they are liars, or defiling the children’s tombstones. And I am not buying into any MAGA regrets or apology tours either, that take no responsibility or accountability, and then think we owe them forgiveness? I’m more likely to forgive and financially support Westboro Baptist than forgive them without atonement because they are still awful and are just trying to get ahead of the inevitable eventual collapse.

The ebook of Sinclair Lewis’ It Can’t Happen Here was on sale yesterday for $1.99, so I snapped it up because I was thinking about rereading it again. I originally read it during the second Bush term because I could see it coming then. The rise of Rush Limbaugh and Fox News in the early 1990s was the canary in a coal mine, and I saw the signs of this current situation already starting to fall into place. I don’t think our current situation is going to end up in the Turd Reich–we are perilously close right now–because it’s all blowing up, and I don’t think a Fascist takeover with all the reins in the small hands of an insane tyrant whose cognitive dissonance must inevitably cause a complete mental collapse, and I have a lot more confidence now that we can somehow come back from the brink. But there’s so much work to be done after, to even get back to where we were before, let alone make things better.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you again tomorrow.

The beautiful Antinous, lover of Roman Emperor Hadrian, depicted as the Egyptian God Osiris
  1. Paul asked me, as we watched the show last night, “why do these cults exist” and I replied, “as a means of controlling and subjugating women. All cults seem to have that in common.” ↩︎
  2. Since I love reality television, I’ve been thinking about doing an essay on gay reality shows, and another on queer people on mainstream reality shows. ↩︎
  3. I was also rather interested to hear her mention her driver’s license–didn’t she kill someone in a vehicular homicide? How does she still have one? ↩︎

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.

Love Will Find a Way

Work-at-home Friday! I did wake up early this morning–Sparky only let me sleep for another fifteen minutes before getting aggressive about his breakfast. Which was fine, I needed to get up, and somehow not being jolted out of sleep by the alarm has the psychological effect of well I’m up and feel rested. I was again fatigued when I got home last night, which led to me sitting in my chair with my kitty asleep in my lap like a precious baby. I got caught up on the news (update: the country is still ablaze), and then settled in for the first two episodes of Spike Lee’s new Netflix documentary, Katrina: Come Hell and High Water, which is very well done. The two new documentaries on the catastrophe are very well done. It’s depressing and painful to watch them, and remember…but watching has reminded me again of how incompetent the sitting government was, not just here but especially in Washington. (And all the time passed? Hasn’t lessened my eternal hatred for Brownie and Chertoff and others of their ilk–FAUX NEWS–who did everything they could to try to cover for Bush’s great federal failure, demonize New Orleanians, and spread vicious lies that impacted the rescue timetables, may they all burn forever in hell with lighter fluid soaked into their skin.) I wound up going to bed early last night, which probably dramatically helped with getting up so early this morning. Social media and the news today will–as always on the anniversary–be deluged with remembrances and memorials, which are appreciated, but sometimes feels like gritty salt being rubbed into the wounds.

I have a meeting this morning and data entry to do around my errands. I am getting a flu shot today (and seeing about new COVID boosters; I am hoping my age and compromised immune system will qualify me since we now live in Stupid World). I have to return a library book this morning, and I also have to pick up a prescription. I think I’ll have groceries delivered this afternoon as well. We don’t really need very much, though, so maybe I’ll just actually drop into a store on the way home. Or tomorrow; it looks like we’re going to have thunderstorms this afternoon…which will be excellent reading weather, and since I need to finish my reread of Scotty X, that is absolutely perfect. I also have lots of chores to do since I didn’t do fuck-all when I got home last night. We’re also supposed to get some rain this morning, too. So, once I finish this and post it, I’ll work on my chores some and get started on data entry work. I also have some emails to answer, and plenty of emails to send as well.

Southern Decadence, the big gay party weekend, started yesterday but attendance will continue climbing to peak attendance throughout today and into tonight. The weather is lovely for them, rain aside, but they won’t care about the rain anyway. It’s weird that Decadence Friday is also the Katrina anniversary–at the time I’m writing this twenty years ago we were getting up in that miserable hotel outside of Birmingham that checked us in at 2 a.m. but told us we had to be out by ten or pay for another day (their corporate office got a nasty letter from me and I’ve never stayed in one of their hotels again unless a mystery conference was using them, and even then it’s very reluctant and I have to think about it for a long time), and it looked like the levees had held…but there was no one reporting from the lower 9th ward. We didn’t know the levees breached (thanks again, Army Corps of Engineers) until we got to Paul’s mom’s in rural Illinois late that night. Southern Decadence was supposed to be the weekend after Katrina.

I’m not even tempted to even consider going down there this weekend. My, how things have changed.

Crime Ink: Iconic is wracking up kudos in reviews, which is lovely and wonderful. It’s so nice to see queer work getting appreciation from mainstream reviewers…who wouldn’t touch most of us back when I was getting started. This is such a lovely change and it really makes me happy, especially for the new generation of queer mystery writers, who are all very talented and are doing exceptional work.

And on that note, I am going to forage some breakfast and get ready for my day. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning here.

Another statue of Ramses II, in the light of a crescent moon

Kiss You All Over

Thursday morning last day in the office blog, and it’s also the start of Southern Decadence here in New Orleans. Decadence was my favorite time of year for a very long time, but now I’m too old to stand and walk for hours (let alone dance all night) and I also can no longer handle the heat, so I can’t be out there for very long anyway. The last time I was at Decadence was to pass out condoms in 2017 or 2018, I’m not sure which, honestly, but I do remember it was so hot and humid and so many people were out on that Sunday, that I thought I was going to be sick. It had also rained that morning so…yeah, major league humidity that day. Shudder.

How on earth did I ever spend so much time over a weekend partying and dancing in this kind of heat? I guess the drugs helped. And of course, back when I used to participate in the revelry, I was used to the heat more because we generally went out every weekend, and thus was acclimated to it. Not being used to it anymore is my primary problem with the summers here.

I feel rested with just a touch of fatigue this morning. That’s fine, because I can sleep later tomorrow and so I just have to make it through today. On the way home last night I stopped and made groceries; it was odd because there wasn’t much traffic in the CBD. Since school started, getting to work in the morning is more of a pain because there’s heavier traffic both before and after work now–as well as the bane of my existence, school busses on I-10. After I got home I was a kitty bed for a while, and I did do some work and some chores (that still need to be finished). I did make a terrific and comprehensive to-do list yesterday afternoon as well, which was a good feeling. Tonight after work I’ll probably come home and just rest since I work at home tomorrow and it’s a three day weekend. I’m going to DoorDash lunch today at the office so I don’t have so much to carry in this morning, and thus won’t have as much to carry on the way home tonight, either. I also made an appointment for a flu shot (fuck you, RFK Jr and MAGA, now and forever) for Friday morning.

And of course, tomorrow is the Katrina anniversary. I see there’s a new documentary on Netflix about Katrina, I think called Come Hell and High Water, that I want to watch as part of my coping with it all again to try to get it all out of my psyche. I also need to finish my newsletter about the anniversary so I can get it sent out tomorrow. It’s been such a long time now that I suppose it’s “safe” to talk about things that happened decades ago, but I was tired of talking about them and worse, worried that the audience (here or on panels, etc.) was bored with hearing about it. I never want to bore anyone!

Also, yesterday the anthology Celluloid Crimes dropped, with my story “The Last To See Him Alive” in it! I also realized yesterday I have short stories in three anthologies all coming out over a period of a week or so. Wild, isn’t it? My story is an adaptation of the first chapter of Chlorine, so it serves as a preview of the book to come. (It’s different from the first chapter that will appear in Chlorine, but you can get a sense of the novel’s story from the short story that appears here.)

The weather has oddly remained mostly humidity free and cooler than usual, and we’ve not had any rain now for a couple of days. Interesting.

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

Just What I Needed

Monday and back to the office with me today. Yesterday was nice and relaxing; I worked on writing for a while, didn’t do as many chores as I should have, and watched a couple of shows. I didn’t want to get out of bed again this morning–no surprise there–and am a little bummed to not have another day off as of yet. But I’ll survive, as I always do, which is no more than I should expect, one supposes. It’s hard to believe that it’s August and my birthday is looming, as is football season and Bouchercon is also coming to New Orleans the first week of next month. I’ve got a lot to get done in the month of August, and I really need to buckle down and apply my nose to said grindstone. It’s just tough when you have to battle fatigue and exhaustion all the time.

We watched the Netflix documentary series Amy Bradley Is Missing, which was interesting and terribly sad at the same time. I cannot imagine the pain of having a family member disappear without a trace the way Amy Bradley did off that cruise ship. As a disappearance of a family member is the crucial plot element of a book I am researching to write at some point in the future (The Summer of Lost Boys), watching this kind of counted as research for that, as it gave me insight as to how a working class family would react to such an occurrence and how the family would be permanently damaged….which also got me thinking about aftermaths to crime and horror stories. How do you go on with your life after fighting supernatural threats? Or after being a murder suspect? Or having someone close to you commit a serious and most heinous crime?

After dinner, we started watching a new Mexican erotic thriller series on Netflix, whose title translates to Unspeakable Sins. Like all Spanish-language erotic thriller series, there’s plenty of sex and nudity; we only watched three episodes (there’s two seasons of nine episodes each) but even trying to summarize the plot thus far–but the primary plot concerns Helena, a wealthy woman in a very controlling marriage to an older man, who starts having an affair with a very hot young escort, whom she convinces to flirt with her bisexual husband so they can get video of the two of them together and she can use the video as leverage to divorce him. Ivan pretends to be a journalist doing a story on Claudio, Claudio is attracted to him, but things go south–they fight and Ivan’s story is he ran away. But there’s blood all over the house and Claudio is now missing…can Ivan trust Helena or is she playing him for a fool, setting him up to take the fall for his murder?

That’s the primary story, but there are subplots as well that are just as intense.

Ivan is played by gorgeous Andres Baida. I mean…

Gorgeous, just gorgeous.

I also spent some time processing seeing friends from high school that I hadn’t seen in almost fifty years. (The fact that it’s been almost fifty years since I graduated from high school also needs processing, but that will have to wait until I am done with this initial processing.) Every time I’ve had a conversation with someone from high school in the last thirty years–it’s not often and it’s not many–how they remember me, and high school, are vastly different from how I remember things, but they also never knew how miserable and unhappy I was. I always put on a good face; I always try to make the best out of every situation I find myself dealing with as they come up, especially when it’s not something you can change or alter in any meaningful way. As I’ve stated before, I’ve always thought I was odd-looking and never really had a fit body until I was in my thirties. But…seeing pictures from back then…I was wrong about how I looked (I’ve always been wrong about that, frankly) and my impact on other people. Both women remember me as having a really muscular fit body and being handsome and very kind and considerate and thoughtful–and funny; I’ve always been funny.

And I did work on writing yesterday. I edited another piece and wrote out what changes need to be made to it to make it stronger. I also did some laundry and a load of dishes, but didn’t pick up too much of the mess in the apartment. I do enjoy spending down time with Paul and Sparky, and really wish we were both retired and just hanging out around the apartment all day. Paul likes to be busy, though, so I do think he will take some adjusting if and when he finally does retire. I won’t be retiring for another few years yet; not going at 65, much as I would like to, so I have to get my shit together leading up to when I finally do.

After work today, I have to make groceries on the way home, and I’m hoping to do some writing tonight before we jump back into Unspeakable Sins.

So on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be checking in with you again in the morning.

Don’t Shoot Shotgun

Goodbye, ruby Tuesday! We’re still having a heat advoisory today, and at this point I am trying to remember the last time we weren’t in one. I slept well again last night, and again didn’t want to get out of my comfy bed this morning. Ah, well, get over it, Gregalicious. I had a good day at work yesterday and got a lot done; but once I was home my ambitious plans for the evening fell by the wayside yet again as I provided a cat bed for Sparky and actually fell asleep for a little over an hour! That never happens. I did get some work done last night before falling asleep, and I am hoping that I’ll get some more done tonight. I am not going to be hard on myself because part of this new leaf/new stage in my life is being kinder to myself when I don’t live up to my own expectations.

We’ll see how that goes.

I also wrote two more entries, about the short stories I contributed to a couple of anthologies that are about to drop, and that felt kind of good, you know? I reread the stories for the first time since copy edits and you know, they are pretty good stories, and I am very pleased to be in anthologies with such terrific writers surrounding me. I also sent out a newsletter, about my reread of The Dark on the Other Side by Barbara Michaels, so yeah, I did get some writing done yesterday. I usually don’t count the blog and the newsletter as writing work, but they really are so I really should, shouldn’t I? It’s sometimes hard to believe I’ve been blogging since December of 2004–so blogging will be turning twenty-two later this year. Since I will also be 64 shortly, that’s about a third of my life. And now I’ve been a published author longer than I was not, if that makes sense? I’ve been a published author over half of my life now.

A definite milestone.

It’s also nice to feel reconnected to writing again, which is something I just realized that I am feeling again after a very lengthy period of not feeling connected to it, if that makes sense? I barely remember the beginning of this year. anything before I got sick is just kind of a blur nowadays, but I do know the writing of the new book wasn’t going well–and I was really exhausted going into getting sick, which made writing even harder. I don’t remember last year a lot, either. My memory is rather pathetic these days, and I am having trouble remembering things I should know. (While watching Wicked the other afternoon I could not remember Michelle Yeoh’s name to save my life; I wound up looking it up on my phone.) But this morning I feel like of course I can get all this stuff done, which is a lovely feeling and one I’ve not had for a considerable time.

We started watching The Hunting Wives last night on Netflix, based on the recommendation of a co-worker, and while we only watched the opening, pilot episode, it seems like the kind of soap operatic melodrama I often can’t get enough of (see past addictions to All My Children, General Hospital, Dynasty, and Melrose Place) and I am really looking forward to the rest of this first season. I went straight home after work last night, no stops anywhere, and while I may not have gotten any chores done (I need to empty and reload the dishwasher, and there’s clothes in the dryer) but the straightening I did this weekend is still holding firm. I may go straight home tonight, too–I need to have some things either picked up at the grocery, or delivered–and I can wait to go by the postal service tomorrow on the way home.

So, once I make it through my day job, I can get straight home and get to work on the chores before settling in to do some writing. I’ve promised a short story to an anthology–I already have two that with a bit of revising would be perfect–so I need to get back on those revisions, and I still have some other writing to get done that I really need to get done by Friday as a preference, Monday as a last ditch effort.

So, on that optimistic note, I am going to head into the spice mines this fine hot Tuesday morning. Stay cool wherever you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back later or tomorrow morning to check in with you again!

Avalon

Many years ago, Anya Seton published a terrific historical novel set in pre-1066 England and titled Avalon. The title was a throwback to the female lead character’s bloodline; she was descended from King Arthur and thus part of the English royal family. I loved Anya Seton (Green Darkness remains one of my favorite books to this day)–it’s been a while since I’ve revisited her work, but maybe I should…her books are soooo long, though! Anyway, Avalon is an island from the Arthur mythology…I suppose this is where I admit I’ve never read anything about King Arthur other than the Mary Stewart novels, but I enjoyed those so much I never really felt much of a need to read anything else Arthurian1. For those of you who missed the 1980s, Roxy Music recorded an album titled Avalon, and the title song was gorgeous…as is the entire album, which I’ve been listening to lately. It still, for the record, holds up.

The tropical system turned out to be not much of anything here in New Orleans, but it was rough where it did rain and flood. Yesterday–which was supposed to be the worst of it–was gorgeous for most of the day. After work, we did go to Costco and then I had dinner with a good friend at Saba, which was lovely. My Lyft drivers in both directions were pretty great, too–which was very lovely. The meal was terrific, and I allowed myself a single cocktail–A Dionysus Revival, which was an interesting mix of tequila, cucumber, and mild ancho chili; it was delicious. I also did chores yesterday around working, and the kitchen–which still needs some work–looks so much better this morning than it did yesterday morning, and that makes me very happy this morning. NO DISHES!

I hope to have a good day today, I have some errands to run around noon (mail, make a little groceries), but other than that I am home for the day. We’ll probably watch some more of America’s Sweethearts later, too. I’m not entirely sure why this show fascinates us both so much–there’s definitely a camp quality to it–but it just sucks us in every time we start watching. We, of course, are old school–we used to watch this on TNN when it was called Making the Team, and you can tell Netflix spends more money on the show than TNN ever did. My coffee is tasting marvelous this morning, Sparky let me sleep a little later than usual, and I feel very good this morning. My sinuses are behaving and I don’t have the headache that’s plagued me for the last couple of weeks. I’m also going to spend some time with the new Megan Abbott and my other current reads. Tomorrow we are going to go see Superman, which I am absolutely looking forward to seeing. Reader, there will be a newsletter about my almost life-long love of the character.

I am also hoping to get some writing done today as well. It’s about time for me to get back in the saddle again–and every day that passes when I don’t climb up on that horse again is time slipping through my fingers. It’s creeping up on football season, too–which is going to make it harder to be productive on the weekends, like it always does. I need to clean off my desk and do the floors here in the kitchen, which will be my housework for the day; and I’ll pick up in the living room later on.

Such an exciting life I lead, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

  1. I did watch Camelot–we saw it in the theater when I was really young. I tried rewatching it during the pandemic, but couldn’t get through it. I’ll never understand why they didn’t cast Julie Andrews as Guinevere, since she’d played it on stage. ↩︎