Tag: Outer Banks

Fever

Tuesday, and day two of my return to the spice mines. I was a bit groggy yesterday, and felt a bit tired in my legs for some reason, but it wasn’t anything, really. And I certainly had the energy to walk around the office pretty briskly while at work. We were busy in the morning–it’s been awhile–but it slowed down in the afternoon so I could get caught up on paperwork and so forth. We also had a marvelous thunderstorm system move through yesterday afternoon; on my way home it was still sprinkling, and it was wonderfully cool. I went to the post office and made a small grocery run and was home before six, which was also nice. Once I was home, of course, I had to feed Sparky and give him some attention before we put on the new episode of Furious (so damned good), followed by an episode of Outer Banks (so damned silly but strangely entertaining; so what if it doesn’t make sense?) before going to bed for the evening, where I slept very well. I feel pretty good this morning, too—if hungry; this morning’s coffee cake slice did not do the trick this morning; I should have eaten something last night but just didn’t feel up to messing around in the kitchen. Tonight I’ll bake potatoes, I think; I have some mushrooms I need to sauté in butter, too; Kerrygold works marvelously for this, by the way.

Sorry/not sorry about the cattle ranchers and farmers going bankrupt. Were all those liberal tears worth it? You voted for this not once but three times (excuse me, #not all ranchers). You wanted ICE, you wanted no regulations, you wanted a whites’ only country, and you kept what? Like four trans girls from competing in sports? You voted for all of this, you pathetic beta cuck bitches, and look! Here you are with your hands out for socialism. That’s practically communism! (Actually, the government controlling the means of production and market IS communism–so all that foul beef, that may or not be wild horse meat–for the record, you fucking idiots. But hey, wasn’t it fun calling Kamala Harris a whore who slept her way to the top? Is losing your cattle and your land worth screaming “Lock her up” about Hilary Rodham Clinton? You tell my community we were freaks and pedophiles and don’t deserve rights? Why the fuck would I give a shit about bailing your homophobic racists asses out with MY tax dollars. Like the student loan situation–didn’t you all oppose that? Aren’t you concerned about the national debt anymore? You scream at the top of your lungs about it whenever there’s a Democrat in the White House; why so silent when your votes are responsible now for it being so incredibly astronomically raised, higher than ever in history? Oh, no, you’ve got your palms up begging for relief from the taxpayers you gladly mock and vote against all the time? Like student loans, why should the taxpayers be on the hook for your poor choices? You don’t even have the balls to NAME him, like the submissive mongrels you are. No, you blame the government–you can’t even say anything critical of him personally. You’re fucking afraid of a pedophile.

Miss me with your low-T whining, you little bitches. Some MEN you are. Your ancestors would be ashamed and embarrassed, you entitled shits.

This was all in Project 2025, by the way. Everything that has happened since he was sworn in last year is straight out of Project 2025; you know, the thing they all lied to you about so you wouldn’t read it…but you were too busy “owning the libs.” Good job. Now someone else is going to own your land and you’ll be homeless and on the dole. Come on guys! Aren’t you the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps real men who don’t need anyone” types? Seriously, go fuck yourselves now and forever.

I was also highly amused to see that the Tate Brothers had to admit to a court that they are broke, they don’t own any of the properties or cars or jewelry they paraded around on-line to give unfuckable young men something to cling to since the world is “so unfair to them!” Whatever happened to “nobody ever said life was fair?” Has anyone checked on the incels today? What with Spider-man whomping on Jake Lang1 this weekend, the collapse of the Tate Brothers…can the collapse of the bros and the so-called man-o-sphere (cuck-o-sphere is more accurate) be far behind?

We started watching Lanterns this weekend, too, and I’m enjoying it. I do like both Kyle Chandler and Aaron Pierre (my God that man is beautiful), and I’ve always liked Green Lantern (I pretend that execrable film with Ryan Reynolds never happened). The show has a kind of slow burn feel to it, and I like that a lot.

I was pleased to see that Nicholas Hoult has bowed out of the TERF Queen’s tv show because of “scheduling conflicts”…I saw someone on-line said, “Yeah, the scheduling conflict was a phone call from an angry James Gunn asking him, why are you buttfucking my Superman sequel?” I, for one, was perfectly willing to never see anything he’s in again–I’ve been a big fan since Warm Bodies–but…he’s still kind of tarnished with homophobic slime, now. I don’t think I’ll ever be as big a fan of his again. His replacement can’t act anyway and mostly looks constipated–so no loss not watching him in anything again…which I’d pretty much decided after Pompeii already. Pompeii was exponentially worse than all of the Twilight movies combined. And I fucking despise Twilight with the white hot passion of a dozen burning suns.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I am going straight home from work tonight, no stops, and hope to get the kitchen under control. I’ll be back tomorrow, of course. See you then!

I took this picture from the upper balcony at the Times-Picayune office on St. Charles; Paul and I were there for their Friday night before Mardi Gras parade party. I just love how it turned out.
  1. And why is someone with an ankle monitor able to travel so freely between states? Who is bankrolling him? Inquiring minds want to know. ↩︎

Bye Bye Baby

And it’s Monday morning again, and my brief little vacation is over. Ah, well, it didn’t kill me to get up this morning and it’s not going to kill me to go back into the office, either. We’re now on the final approach to September and Labor Day, and college football season begins. Woo-hoo!

Yesterday was kind of a lovely day. We ended up not going to Costco after all; Paul worked late Saturday on a grant so I let him sleep yesterday. It wasn’t the end of the world, and I did some chores and picking up around here before working on the book some more. We also watched some more of Outer Banks, which continues to be an insane ride; lots of fun but don’t expect it to make any sense. Netflix now has the Talamasca series from the Anne Rice universe; I didn’t know it had already aired last year. It’s not very long, only six episodes, but it should be fun…I hadn’t seen any talk of it anywhere so when I saw it last night, at first I thought it was new! Maybe the fact I’ve not heard anything about it means it wasn’t good? No, that’s not necessarily the case, either. Nothing to do but check it out, I suppose.

I had some things delivered yesterday so I wouldn’t have to go out of the house, and tonight I need to swing by the mail again. I haven’t gotten Dad’s birthday card yet, and he sent me gift cards inside the card, which is concerning. I don’t mind the loss, but it’ll bug Dad and I don’t want him to feel like he needs to replace them if they are lost. I also have some emails I need to get answered and some other things I need to take care of as well. I think I might create a special project for myself over Labor Day weekend, and that would be to clean out all my paper files. Many of them have no reason to exist anymore–the story or book has come to fruition and been published–and there’s also any number of other reasons the files need to be disposed of, and doing this will clear up some more space in the apartment. I think my goal for the rest of the year is to simply get rid of a bunch more stuff, and I do need to clean out the damned attic–but that can wait until it’s not so damned hot in there. I need to add things to the lengthy to-do list notebook, which I also need to start using more.

I do feel very rested and ready to go this morning, so I wonder how long that will last today? I feel like I’ve not been to the office in forever, but I already filled the gas tank this weekend, so I don’t have to do that this morning, either. Woo-hoo for careful planning! Wednesday is going to be pay-the-bills day again; seems like we just had that, didn’t we? Time passes so quickly when you really aren’t paying attention and just going about your daily routine, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a wonderful day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back post-haste tomorrow morning. Till then!

Promise to Try

It’s my birthday, and I made the enormous mistake of giving Sparky a new catnip toy this morning and now he’s high as a kite and zooming around the apartment, with the occasional launch of a crazed kitty at me in full play-attack mode. Needless to say, I’m regretting giving him that toy!

And just like that, I qualify for senior discounts. Funny, I don’t feel any older this morning. I’ve never been a big birthday person, for any number of reasons (primarily because outside of my parents, no one else ever cared much about it, which I will unpack at some point in the newsletter), and the older I get the less fuss I want made of it. I really prefer to just spend the day hanging out at home with Sparky and Paul, very low-key. I’ll watch some shit on television, and do some reading; maybe even take some notes on something, anything, that I am working on currently. But no pressure at all, and that’s the lovely thing. A day of ignoring the world and everything else going on and just having some peaceful, relaxing down time. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? It does, indeed. The house is messy, so I may slowly and gradually do things, too, but the primary goal for the day is to stay off-line as much as possible and just have a lovely quiet day at home.

Sparky also let me sleep late this morning, for which I am grateful, and even slept in the bed with me after checking on me at the usual time I get up. The no-alarm confused him, I think–hey you’re supposed to get up to the loud noise–which is why he curled up in the crook of my legs and went to sleep.Yesterday was fine. It was a relatively easy and mellow day at the office, and I ran some errands when I got off work. Paul got home while I was catching up on the news, and we watched another episode of Furious, which took another turn last night I wasn’t expecting. We’re caught up now, and have to wait for the next episodes to air, so we can catch up on The Shards and Reacher in the meantime. There’s also a couple of movies streaming that I want to see–Obsession and The Devil Wears Prada 2. And the final season of Outer Banks dropping today on Netflix like another birthday present for me. I also want to read more today, and finish the birthday newsletter I started…but there’s no rush. It’s about getting older and not being ashamed or afraid of the word old. I wouldn’t, for example, want to be younger now than I am, and frankly, now that my health is pretty far along on its way to 100%, I actually feel pretty good most of the time other than the occasional ache or pain; and you know, I was often sore when I was younger because I worked out.

And yes, we are definitely seeing the new Spider-Man tomorrow.

I also got caught up on the new season of Real Housewives Ultimate Girls’ Trip, and I have to say I really am enjoying seeing the other women bonding over not liking Vicki. Them’s my girls!

So, I am going to get another cup of coffee and have some breakfast. There’s a load of laundry I want to do, and the dishes need to be done, and some minor straightening up I also need to get done and handled, and get cleaned up as well. Sparky has calmed down now enough for me to safely navigate the apartment without getting attacked, so it’s also safe out there.

Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning!

A very young Michael Biehn posing as St. Sebastian

What The World Needs Now is Love

Yesterday’s post was removed from Facebook because bare male torsos are sexually explicit, you know. I don’t think I’m going to be around there much longer, frankly. There was nothing sexual in yesterday’s blog image, other than it being a man in his underwear (and I get hit up by underwear and jock ads there all the fucking time that are more revealing than anything I post) but hey, male nipples might offend someone, you know. But if you’re a person who finds this blog on Facebook every morning, you might (and it’s perfectly okay if you don’t) want to subscribe to it and my Substack. Both are free, and will always be free; and if I should ever decide to make this an income stream (not likely) there will be plenty of notice. Decisions, you know. Paul and I have also come up with a worst-case scenario plan in case things get really bad–which it’s looking more and more like it will with every passing day–and so that’s kind of a relief of sorts. Kind of half-joking, half-serious. Paul and I are both too pragmatic to not think ahead for possible worst cases, and I feel okay about it. It’ll be a huge upheaval–but it won’t be one of our making. (I have some research to do, but it’s a good plan.)

The funniest thing about living in New Orleans is, despite Louisiana’s descent into Gilead since the election of Governor Can’t Be Wrong and his lickspittle legislature, is I feel far safer here than if I lived in a city in a blue state. Orleans Parish (aka New Orleans) went over eighty-two percent for Harris/Walz; can your city/county say the same? New Orleans isn’t just a blue island in a red sea, it’s so fucking blue that it can be seen from space. There’s going to be a lot of conflict coming between city and state as well as city and federal–it’s one of the reasons the governor sent the state police into our city (Troop New Orleans, or NOLA or whatever fascist thing he called them) to fight “crime”. They have no legal jurisdiction here, but every time I see one of their vehicles on the road I think “ah, the SS is here.” So much material in Louisiana to write about–as long as I get to keep writing about anything, really. And the Super Bowl is coming in a few months, too. Sigh. That means a conflict with Carnival, which I’ve not bothered to look into quite yet.

It rained as I ran my errands last night after work. It rained pretty much all day, and it’s raining again this morning. I slept really well last night, too, and didn’t really want to get up this morning but I did. I felt rested, and while I would love nothing more than to climb back into bed with Sparky and go back to sleep, that’s not possible since I obviously have to go into the office today. Next week is only a three-day work week, and then I have a lovely four day weekend while Paul is out of town where I am hoping to get some serious rest as well as get some shit done around here. I did work a bit on writing last night when I got home; mostly an essay for Substack which is still unfinished but it was still writing. It’s a start, after the derailment of the election and the horrors to come. I suppose the best thing to do here is to enjoy the time we have left before January 20th, when our country ceases to be a democracy and becomes whatever the hell it becomes once dollar store Mussolini and a cast of monsters move back into the White House. I imagine my blog and my Substack are enough to damn me as a dissident–without my writing, my life, and my sexual orientation–and of course my day job, however long it lasts in our brave new world.

We also finished Outer Banks over the weekend (or as Paul calls it, “outer skanks”), which was fun. It’s nothing terribly serious, and the plots on the show never really make a lot of sense, but the writing is bonkers and it moves really fast, and I kind of loved how completely insane and over the top it was. A lot of shows we enjoy are back with new seasons–Bad Sisters, for one, and The Diplomat for another–so we have plenty to watch, but the TF Gala is Thursday (the party at John Cameron Mitchell’s, he bragged again) so Paul’s evenings will be taken up this week with last minute details and plans, so we won’t be watching anything this week, so I need to dig up shows that Paul didn’t want to watch but I did so I can do that while he’s gone. I’ve let college football pretty much go this season–I’ll still watch LSU games, but no one else other than as a background noise while I clean around here–so my Saturdays are pretty much freed up for the rest of the year. It’s also hard to believe Christmas is just around the corner–and New Year’s, then Mardi Gras, then the festivals…sheesh. So I really need to get back to writing the book sooner rather than later, don’t I?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again soon; maybe even later on. I still have to write about Agatha All Along, which was probably my favorite show of the year, and Joe Locke, and any number of other posts I have started but never finished for some reason or another. Having that many drafts is starting to bug me, so I need to get them cleared out. A good project for me between clients today, methinks. Sorry if this was boring, but I’m not always jousting with dragons. Sometimes I take time off. 🙂

This is gorgeous, out triple-threat performer Nick Adams, who sings, dances and acts. He also has the most beautiful eyes, an incredible physique, and a great face. He’s the one who had to wear sleeves in A Chorus Line because he had bigger arms than Mario Lopez, the star. He always plays arrogant bitchy queens, like he did in Fire Island, which is a waste. He’d be great for the lead in a gay rom-com.

Old Man from the Mountain

Tuesday morning and back to the spice mines blog. Huzzah! I feel a bit disoriented this morning, as one always does after even the shortest of trips, and was still pretty tired from the driving yesterday. I ran a few errands and cleaned up the kitchen, doing the dishes and puttering around the house for the most part. I’m still digesting Survivor Song–thinking about dystopian novels and stories–and we watched Outer Banks last night, finishing the first half of the season (all that’s available; the second half will probably drop in a month or do), which is ridiculous and campy and weird and fun, like the first two seasons were (the third was disappointing, really), so I hope that it will continue in this vein and leave the third season in the dust and past. But of course, taking a much-needed rest day has kind of put me behind the eight ball; I have work that’s due tomorrow and I don’t know how much time I will have this evening to try to get everything done as much as possible.

There are also two areas meteorologists are watching for hurricane development–one in the Atlantic, the other in the western Caribbean, off the coast of Central America–so we’re not out of the woods yet; hurricane season after all doesn’t end until December 1. We’re also getting a cold front coming in tonight, which means overnight temperatures in the fifties. Yikes! Practically the dead of winter. But I’ll be coming straight home from work, too, so hopefully the nice weather will hold out until then.

My, I’m exciting this morning. I do feel rested, and I do feel like I can get everything done I need to get done by tomorrow, but it’s still a bit daunting to think ahead and hope I won’t have to work through being tired. I also need to get some work done on the book, and I also need to finish the Scotty Bible; I only have three books left to get the notes from, and then I need to go through the whole thing one last time, and voila! It will be finished. I also need to fix some things in the chapters I’ve already written. I think I shall plan to get everything now finished by the end of the month, so I can spend November getting the rest of the first draft done. That sounds perfectly reasonable to me, actually, and so I think that’s going to be the plan going forward. I need to get this story revised, and I need to revise another for the Bouchercon anthology; I’m thinking I should submit something to it. It’ll depend on any number of other factors, of course; but a reasonable writing schedule should be easy to follow, methinks.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about that wretched professor who told me at seventeen I would never be published as a writer. In my utter obliviousness (part of never looking back, I’m afraid) I never made the connection in my head that it was that experience that derailed my college career and my twenties. I always assumed that it was the entire duality of living two completely separate lives as well as the HIV/AIDS pandemic that sent me spiraling down into a pit from which I didn’t think I’d ever emerge. I never wanted to be anything other than a writer, and being told by a person in authority (I was also always taught to respect authority, and I was only seventeen, so he was a PROFESSOR who KNEW what he was talking about, so if he said it–well, I had to believe it. I had been groomed my entire life to take the voice of authority as gospel and never to question it; so when he said that to me I saw my future yawning open as a life of quiet desperation and misery. I didn’t think I could ever truly be myself, and the only thing that had gotten me through my childhood–the dream of being an author–was ripped away from me. Is it any wonder that what I started basically doing was putting off adulthood? My development was so derailed, which is why I always write off my twenties as the lost decade (although it really carried over for another three years), and just don’t think about it much. But my resentment for that fucking asshole college professor is far deeper and much more powerful now, and I may need to revisit that essay I wrote about his skank ass.

Of course, I am over forty novels and fifty short stories into my professional writing career…and he never published anything. In fact, he was a bitter failed author; the definition of “those who can’t, teach” (which is a horrible phrase, really, that I hate and usually refuse to use, but I have no problem using it on that bottom-feeder) in bright three dimensional living color.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I hope you have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll chat at you later, okay?

Material Girl

Saturday and all is well within the Lost Apartment. I slept really well last night, and woke up early this morning. I guess I slept in yesterday till eight so today my body was all “what the hell, dude? GET UP”so I did. My coffee is brewing, and I have a lot to do today. I have errands to run later, cleaning to do, and writing to do as well. Paul has his trainer later this morning and will probably go to the gym after; he’s been really good about that since the Festivals are now over. As soon as my toe is fine again, I plan on starting up again. It’s been over a year, and I think I can hang with returning to the gym again, testing out my left biceps, and seeing how long it takes me to get back into the groove. I need to lose some weight–I’ve not weighed in months–but my shorts are getting to the point where they don’t really fit comfortably anymore and same with my jeans; getting back into shape and starting to eat a more healthy diet can’t hurt, either.

I got some good work done on the revision yesterday; my goal is to get it finished this weekend and turned back in so I can get back to work on another revision I have to get done quickly. This one will require a lot more work than the other, so here’s hoping I can get it all done in April. I really do want to get these out of the way so I can go back to the ones I really want to be working on. I went down a Michelangelo wormhole this week, thanks to the stupidity of the David statue controversy, and I really want to write that book at some point–not quite yet, I don’t think; it’s also going to require another trip to Italy. Paul and I are thinking about doing an Amsterdam-Berlin jaunt at some point; I’ve always wanted to see both cities. I’d also like to do Greece and Spain before I die, too; Egypt is probably never going to happen (Mom always wanted to see the pyramids), but that’s also fine. Who knows? I could die in my sleep tonight, too. And of course, I have always wanted to go to France, too. Heavy heaving sigh. Ah, well. As little as I enjoy traveling domestically, not so sure how I will do on another international flight.

We finished watching season three of Outer Banks last night and it was terribly disappointing. I’m not entirely sure what went wrong with this season, but it was nowhere near as fun as the first two. Without giving spoilers, the treasure hunt that has been the basis of the first three seasons ends with the third; with a potential set up for a fourth season that’s a whole new treasure hunt coming at the very end. I’m not sure if the magic will return, but I suspect the writers ran into the problem that so many do; you have to keep going bigger, and eventually it becomes farcical. The writing was particularly bad in this third season; so much that didn’t make sense, and of course they wasted the first half of the season setting up the second half, which then felt incredibly rushed and nonsensical and stupid. It was disappointing, of course–we’d been looking forward to its return, too. Ah, well. Now that A Knock at the Cabin is streaming, we’ll probably just watch movies tonight; The Pale Blue Eye is also something I’d like to watch.

And what a night for LSU yesterday, as the women’s basketball team won to make it to the National Championship game for the first time in school history, where they will be facing Iowa. That game is tomorrow–I also think it’s Iowa’s first time playing for the national title–but I am not sure that I’ll watch. I used to love basketball, but stopped watching when they kept changing the rules to try to make it more exciting. LSU’s Gymnastics team is competing for a shot in the final four in that sport as well; not sure if they’ll make it out of the group of eight, but you never know. GEAUX TIGERS! And the baseball team is kicking ass this year, too. Looks like that athletic director that replaced the idiot one who went along with all the program abuses (I also like to remind people he was the same guy who blew the Duke lacrosse case) knows what he’s doing.

I also want to spend some time with Margot Douaihy’s Scorched Grace this morning (her last name is pronounced like Hawaii–only with a d. Doo-wa-eee), which looks fantastic. I am taking books to the library sale this morning, and want to do some more purging over the weekend, too. I’m starting to feel. like i have my life back again–the gym is the last piece of the puzzle to snap back into place–and I’m kind of enjoying myself again. It’s been quite a ride since Mom’s initial stroke–the grief still sneaks up on me every once in a while–but I also hadn’t realized what a subconscious weight her health had put on my shoulders. I don’t clench up and my stomach doesn’t knot when I get a text message anymore. I guess with all the other weight I was carrying around from other things I didn’t really notice? I think my compartmentalization is probably not as healthy as I would have liked to believe. But you know, you live and you learn. I’m realizing a lot of things now about life (mine in particular) and seeing things I couldn’t see before. I think the past few months, with everything going on with Mom and all the writing I had to do and the readjustments at my day job, was just so much that I just was kind of coasting along, doing what I needed to get by and trying not to get overwhelmed by focusing on one thing at a time. I also think, hard as it was to be a Festival widow this year, that it was probably good for me to have all that time in the evenings to myself. I could have been a lot more productive, but I think that was also part of the grieving process?

I just feel sort of like I’ve been asleep for a long time and have finally woken up.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader; I certainly intend to!

Like a Virgin

Somehow we made it through….

And it’s Friday this morning, in which I get to work at home and do chores around the house when I need to get up and away from my computer. Huzzah! Alas, some of those chores will have to wait, as we had a notice that the city is turning off our water between 10 and 5 today to do some repair work. Great, so laundry and dishes are out until this evening, but that’s okay. I have work to do, and as always, there’s always filing and organizing and the floors. At least I have enough water for my morning coffee, which is tasting really good this morning. I slept in a bit–always a pleasure on Friday mornings–and slept deeply and well. I feel very well rested this morning, which is a good thing. I did soak the dishes in soapy water over night, so all I have to do is rinse everything before putting it in the dishwasher; and I probably don’t even need to do that. I can just empty it and add the new stuff, and then run it once the water is back on. Why couldn’t they have done this yesterday while I was at work? Because that’s just not how Greg’s life works, everyone. Tis a pity, but also tis a fact.

I slept well last night and feel really rested this morning, which is lovely. I am also having to get used to having Paul at home in the evenings; I was a Festival widow this year for far longer than usual and I really didn’t care for it much. I did get some writing done last night before he came home, and we settled in for some more episodes of season 3 of Outer Banks, which kind of lost its way at first but seems to be settling into that cheesy, over-the-top writing that we so loved the first two seasons. I was getting a bit worried–the storyline of John B’s father’s return from the dead isn’t really working for me, plus it was some terrible casting; more on that when I’ve finished watching the season. I also want to watch some of the movies that are available to stream now, especially The Pale Blue Eye, based on Louis Bayard’s wonderful novel, and there’s another, too, that I really want to watch but I can’t think of the name of it now–the great joys of old brain combined with long COVID brain, hurray!

I do have to make groceries at some point this weekend and I also have to get the mail at some point. I do need some French bread because I’d like to make pasta this evening; I also have clean the refrigerator on the weekend chore list, and I also would like to start cleaning out my cabinets; I have a tendency to buy stuff and forget about it–which is annoying–and then it expires and sits in my cabinets for years because I never check or look at those things until, of course, I need it and well, it’s not any good anymore. I really need to reorganize my cabinets, and I’d also like to make at least one box of books to drop off at the library sale tomorrow–I’d also like to wash and clean out the car, which would be really lovely. I also want to start, I don’t know, taking more control and charge of my life than I have been? It’s incredibly easy to feel tired and just collapse into a chair and do nothing, of course, and scroll through videos on Youtube and then binge television shows once Paul is home. But that isn’t getting me anywhere, and really, I’ve also been operating without a to-do list for a couple of weeks now, too; perhaps I should add make a to-do list to the chores list for this weekend? Yes, perhaps I should. I also want to spend some time reading Scorched Grace this weekend; I need to get back into my regular reading schedule else I will never finish all these books I want to read–and I’ve limited myself to how many books I can buy until I make some progress in getting rid of some of these books I have on hand that I’ve not read yet, and that means actually reading them. And I have so many great books on hand to read, too; and there are more coming out all the time. This year will see new books by Laura Lippman, Megan Abbott, S. A. Cosby, Lisa Unger (so behind on Lisa Unger it’s not even funny), and so many others whose work I both admire and appreciate and respect. So I clearly need to get back to reading. Perhaps today I can find some time this evening, around writing and chores and making dinner and so forth? Stranger things have, in fact, happened before and will probably happen again at some point.

And of course, my major project for the summer is cleaning out the storage attic, which will wind up being an enormous pain in the ass–which is why I’ve not started it yet–as well as cleaning off the tops of the cabinets in the kitchen, which has kind of turned into a catch-all storage place, too–seriously, I have papers and books packed into boxes every-fucking-where in this apartment–and one of the things I really would like to do this year is somehow get my hoarding and apartment back into some kind of control and in some kind of livable order. I only have two definite author trips left this year–Malice Domestic at the end of April and Bouchercon at the end of August–and I’ll also have to do some family visiting this year as well–Mom’s death means I need to check in with Dad a lot more often than I ever have before–but hopefully my vacation time will start accruing and building back up over the course of the year.

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

Lucky Star

Thursday morning and all is well in the Lost Apartment…at least so far.

It was cold here yesterday; not that bad, really, but after the humidity and the over-eighty degree temperatures we’ve had over the weekend, the sudden twenty or so degree drop was a shock to the system, let me tell you. I was cold all day at the office (it’s always freezing at the office, no matter what) and so had to wear a hat most of the day. One of the drawbacks to being hair-free on my scalp is you feel the cold a lot more on your head. But it more than makes up for that in cost savings in hair products and haircuts, as well as the time saved not needing to wash and dry it.

And that’s my TED talk on why bald is best.

It’s cold again this morning, but the high for the day is 78, so I am assuming this cold spell is ending.

I did manage to get some work done on the book yesterday, but I also spent a lot of the day remembering and still processing this week’s episode of Ted Lasso. It really is such a phenomenally well-written show, and I went down all kinds of Internet fan wormholes–the fans are quite devoted–about theories and predictions and so forth for the rest of the season. In fact, after I finishing writing yesterday I rewatched it; that’s how much I enjoyed it, and I wanted to catch things I may not have during the first viewing (I used to watch each episode of Schitt’s Creek twice as well; what can I say, I am obsessive), which I did. And it’s weird, even when you know what happens, you enjoy just as much, if not more, than you did the first time. It really is a remarkably well done show, on every level; but the cast is absolutely perfect. We also caught up on The Mandalorian and started the new season of Yellowjackets before diving into the new season of Outer Banks, which isn’t…grabbing me the way it used to? We’ll keep watching, but we aren’t as addicted as we used to be; I’m not sure why that is. But the show is starting to pick up some; the first few episodes weren’t as gripping or entertaining as the previous seasons. I will report back, as I imagine we’ll probably finish it off this weekend sometime.

We’ve not been super busy this week at work, which has been enormously helpful with my reentry into reality. I am all caught up on my day job duties, which is a lovely thing. I am getting back to work on the book after the interruption of the weekend, and while it hasn’t been as smooth a reentry as returning to the office was, it’s getting there. A strong push tonight and over the weekend and I can get this all turned in, if I’m lucky, no later than Monday; but it might take a bit longer. I need to get this one finished so I can turn around and get the Scotty done, and I also have another manuscript to edit. I want to start reading some more, as well. If all goes well, by the time I am home from Malice I should be all freed up to get back to work on some other things, and I am really looking forward to that. Part of my writing impatience during the process of revising drafts is because I want to get back to work on the next thing, and I also think my familiarity with my own work is part of the reason I am so critical of it, if that makes sense? I had that insight yesterday; of course by the time the book comes out I am so heartily sick of it and familiar with it that it seems trite and bad; I’ve been through it so many times I’ve lost the ability to be able to judge it fairly and impartially. Familiarity does breed contempt, whoever said that was absolutely one thousand percent correct. The trick is fooling your brain into forgetting that familiarity, and I have yet to succeed in that effort.

It’s also kind of nice not having to spend so much of my time dealing with emails, frankly.

And of course, there’s always the disaster area that is the house. It’s been nice having Paul home this week–I am going to have to get used to having him home in the evenings, and it’s also going to take me a while to get used to potentially making dinner at night again; it’s literally been months since I’ve had to make dinner regularly. I still need to figure out what I need to get at the grocery store, and we need to start eating healthier for both of our sakes. I have also last track of the month; I was actually thinking this morning that there was still another week to get through before April rolls around but April is actually this weekend, isn’t it? Heavy sigh. I mean, the first quarter of the year has already passed–but then again, New Year’s feels like it was about a thousand years ago. It’s been quite a 2023 for me thus far, but hey–I’m still here. The jury’s still out on whether or not that is a good thing…

But it’s been a decent week thus far, if a bit off–as weeks after events inevitably are, but I didn’t seem to resent giving up the authorly life for reality quite as much this time as I usually do, and I do think that’s a good thing. Maybe I am finally starting to meld the different compartments of my life into one rather than continuing to keep them segregated from each other and never the twain shall meet. Is it better to have all aspects of my life integrated into one? It’s so weird, because I started living different lives so very young in my life that it’s really all I know, and having such a clear demarcation line before between the “who I really am” life and “who I have to pretend to be to live in the world” life kind of carried over and spilled over into the rest of my life after I came out and tried to make my personal life all one world…but I somehow kept having different worlds. Day job versus writing; New Orleans non-writing friends versus writing friends; friends in New Orleans versus friends outside of New Orleans, and so on and so on and so on, that it’s kind of become my way of navigating my overall life, and I am not entirely sure now–at sixty-one going on sixty-two–how unhealthy that actually might be. It’s always worked for me, but just because something works doesn’t make it healthy, you know?

Tomorrow I get to sleep late and work at home, which is always a lovely and quite marvelous thing. I am really going to miss my work-at-home Fridays, when they are eventually and gradually eliminated (as we know they inevitably must be). I slept well again last night and yet again didn’t really want to get up this morning, but I don’t necessarily feel tired or even physically asleep (which isn’t a pleasant feeling, frankly) which I am taking as a win. I have been released from Twitter jail, but the whole experience didn’t exactly leave me with a desire to return there, to be honest. It really is a cesspool, and I am much quicker to anger–the subconscious grief–than I usually am (and I’ve always had a low boiling point to begin with), so avoiding that hellscape is probably also more healthy for me mentally.I really need to figure out how to curate it better so I don’t find myself getting angry (it isn’t irrational) at the monsters and trolls who love to hang out there and be the assholes they don’t have the courage to be in person. Even though I could do nothing but doomscroll yesterday. I did check out some trending hashtags about Ted Lasso, and I am very pleased to see that the Collin Hughes is closeted story-line enraged the homophobes, who are now accusing it of being “woke” and aren’t going to watch anymore. Rather than enraging me with the why can’t they ever just keep their mouths fucking shut and let us enjoy something instead I got smug and happy because homophobes shouldn’t be able to watch and love the joy that is Ted Lasso. You don’t get to be an asshole and find joy in the magic of this show, and if it’s taken you three seasons to figure out the show is “woke” (however the hell the rage-monsters define that now), you’re kind of stupid. The message of the show is kindness and helping others to be their best selves, really, and those connections are the most important. Where precisely does bigotry and hatred fit into that message, precisely? So, stop watching. It’ll still air and will always be available to stream, and oh, one last thing: The CEO of Apple is a gay man. Ted Lasso is an Apple TV show. Did you really think Apple would air a homophobic show? You really are too fucking stupid to live…and you shouldn’t be allowed to breed.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a happy March 30th, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

Pon de Replay

Monday and back to the office with me this morning.

I slept very well last night and woke up quite easily. The weather took a turn for the colder over the weekend (yay)–the high today is a bitter 54–which makes it harder to get out of bed in the morning, but at least the heat is working properly; it really has made a significant difference getting that new system two or three years ago. I got some work done yesterday–good work, at that–and also managed to finish reading Bobby Mathews’ Living the Gimmick, which was quite fun; a nasty little hard-boiled tale of murder and vengeance behind the scenes of professional wrestling. More on that later, but it was a fun, tightly written little story. Now I’m trying to decide what to read next–either Christopher Bollen’s The Lost Americans, or Margot Douahy’s Scorched Grace, or Ellen Byron’s Wined and Died in New Orleans. A virtual plethora of excellent options. The Festivals are of course this weekend and I have to get my weekend planned, including reaching out to my panelists (I’m moderating a panel on Sunday) and of course, there’s always editing I need to get done. I’ll be commuting, so we don’t have to board Scooter, which will be a bit of a pain, especially if it’s cold (note to self: check weather forecasts for the weekend). Scooter is being a needy kitty this morning, he’s up on my desk and purring, but every time I put him into my lap he climbs back up on the desk and then of course gets between me and the screen wanting to give me headbutts while he continues to be an out of control purring machine. (Why he doesn’t want to be cuddled up with Paul in our incredibly comfortable and warm bed remains a mystery for the ages.)

The revision isn’t going as quickly as I would like, frankly–but it’s going and it’s going well; I am starting to pick up momentum with the revision and would love to have it finished before the weekend, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, unless I really stay rested and motivated and don’t get worn out during the day at work, which happens–especially when you’re getting up at six every morning during the week. My big fear here is that I’ll be very tired when the weekend rolls around, which isn’t good. Maybe I’ll take Friday off, so I can sleep late and not have to worry about being tired? That’s the day I’ll have to take a Lyft to the hotel with my little bag so I am there. I’ll probably stay down there Friday night, come home Saturday night, and then head back down there for Sunday afternoon and then back home yet again.

We started watching the new season of Ted Lasso last night, which is marvelous (I’d already seen the first episode–impatience, of course– but was more than happy to rewatch it with Paul); it really might be one of my favorite comedy series of all time, if not the absolute favorite (Schitt’s Creek is still up there), and it’s just as charming as ever. I’m curious to see how the season goes, especially since it’s going to be the last season–but I hope the talk of spin-off series for some of the characters comes to fruition; although whether the strong characters can tentpole a show of their own remains to be seen. I am confident that both Hannah Waddingham and Juno Temple could spin off into their own quite easily; the others I’m not as confident about, to be honest….although a Sam and Rebecca (how Cheers of them!) spin-off could be quite lovely.

And we still have the whacked out, over the top joy of Outer Banks still to watch, too. Huzzah! Now if we can only live through this coming weekend and survive…

Its a bit hard to believe the first quarter of the year is coming to a close, and DAMN IT, I have to get my taxes organized and done, don’t I? Put that at the top of the to-do list for post-Festival. Heavy heaving sigh. I really should keep track every month, update a spreadsheet with the expenses for the previous month, and then at the end of the year it would all be ready to go, wouldn’t it? But why on earth would I ever do anything that would make my life easier in any way? Self-defeating, as always; I shall probably go to my grave wondering why I sabotage or undermine my abilities to succeed and/or get ahead and/or act like an adult. Ah, well, today and tonight I am going to try to get myself better organized and make a game plan for moving on with the rest of the year.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Sorry to be such a crashing bore on a Monday morning, but that does seem about par for the course, does it not? See you tomorrow!

Where Have You Been

Wednesday and Pay the Bills Day has yet again rolled around. Huzzah?

Yesterday was a good day. I had a great day at work getting caught up on everything around the office and seeing clients; I came home in a good mood and not exhausted, so I worked and edited for a while before blowing the proverbial end of day whistle and repairing to my easy chair to relax for the evening. It was nice, really, having a lovely day again. It has been so long. I also slept pretty well last night, too–I woke up a few times throughout the night, so it wasn’t a straight sleep through, but I feel rested and good this morning; not groggy or like my body hasn’t woken up yet, either. But the coffee tastes great, I don’t want to go back to bed and sleep some more, and I am getting my shit together. Today feels like it might be a good day; I’ve learned that how I feel when I wake up isn’t always necessarily the best indicator of how the day will go because they’ve certainly gone south once they’ve gotten underway, LOL.

Ted Lasso is back, tonight I think? Won’t be watching until the festivals are over and Paul is home in the evenings (same with The Mandalorian, and the festivals are next weekend), and of course we also have Outer Banks on deck, too. I didn’t read when I finished working yesterday–I’d wanted to–but by the time I’d finished with my editing, I was burned out and tired and just mentally fatigued, so I went to the easy chair and watched some history documentaries to pass the evening until I got tired (documentaries on Claude of France; Anne of Brittany; and several other figures from French history) and went to bed. It was very cold yesterday (for New Orleans and compared to lately) and so I had to end up turning on the heat last night. I just turned it on downstairs, figuring some heat would rise and it’s better to sleep under a pile of blankets when it’s a bit on the chilly side in the bedroom. It was nice to come downstairs this morning and not start shivering, or hovering by the Keurig waiting for the coffee to brew so I could wrap my cold hands around the hot cup. I also have been paging through Stephen King’s Danse Macabre and Grady Hendrix’ Paperbacks from Hell, which is a marvelous reference guide (I was happy to read–I’d forgotten–that King agrees with my assessment of The Exorcist and William Peter Blatty’s writing; this is another instance where the movie is better than the book) and I am not entirely sure I’ve written a post about Paperbacks from Hell? I’ll have to look, but this is another example of my memory being shot; how do I not remember whether I’d written about something or not? Particularly when it’s something I’ve really enjoyed? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to do another post (if there was an original) about the book because it really is delightful and fun.

I also paid my latest camera ticket on-line last night. I fucking hate camera tickets. I got this one driving home from getting up super-early and having blood drawn; I just brushed my teeth and washed my face, threw on some clothes and headed down there without having coffee first–coffee can affect your blood sugar levels, and as mine are getting higher with every blood draw, my doctor is monitoring that–and so of course I wasn’t really terribly awake as I drove home sans three test tubes of blood.

I fucking hate the cameras. I get at least two tickets per year, and always–always–in a school zone. (No, that doesn’t mean I see kids milling about on both sides of the street and speed up, hoping…I am not fond of children, to be sure, but I don’t want to eliminate any of them) I guess when I get to the speed limit/school zone signs I need to just slam on the brakes rather than gradually slow, which is what I usually do.

Ah, well. I hope the traffic camera tickets help pay to fix the streets or fill in a pothole or two. There’s a lot of road repair going on at the moment–Elysian Fields, Claiborne, and Martin Luther King; all main streets and all ones that are part of my daily drives around the city–which is a good thing, even if it’s a massive pain in the ass right now for me.

And tonight I have to make groceries and probably should swing by the post office and I have a prescription ready, too, so hello, Uptown New Orleans! I need to edit tonight, too. I am hoping this centered, peaceful place I’ve found myself in these last couple of days is lasting….

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