Tag: Scotty

School

Oddly enough, this past weekend I was thinking about my experiences in school (while being a little taken aback by how long ago I graduated high school; two years will be the fiftieth anniversary of that). Public school was unpleasant for me after we moved to the suburbs (it was fine when we lived in the city), and I always figured the other kids somehow figured out that I was gay and bullied me until we moved to Kansas, where I had one good year before it started up again. How do they always know? What I actually didn’t know was that my sister (and why wouldn’t she have told him, or my mother?) told my father (in the wake of Mom’s death) that I was bullied pretty badly. Dad brought it up at some recently (I think during the May trip) , but he had an entirely different perspective and one that had never occurred to me before; “you were so much younger than everyone. Not only should we not have let you skip a grade, we should have held you out a year.”

Wow. Wasn’t prepared for that massive paradigm shift in my head canon. I also recently read a post from someone who, like me, had been bullied for being gay in high school, only to have one of his bullies reach out to reconnect like nothing had ever happened…which is also something similar to my experience; people I went to high school with are stunned that I remember being bullied and don’t have good memories. ‘But everyone loved you!” they always say, and I am always taken aback by their reaction. Is it…is it possible that calling me a fag was just…teasing and didn’t mean anything more? And I can remember, actually, hearing them call other guys that, too–an insult and a joke…so were they really just teasing me, considering me one of the guys? Did it sting so badly and horribly because it was true, and they didn’t know? And of course, given my brain chemistry issues…

And yes, I was sixteen when I graduated from high school. I was almost three years younger than some of the kids in my graduating class.

I will have to explore this in an essay at some point. Two or three years in teenager is a fucking lot. And it seems like my sixties are my decade for reflecting on the past.

But it’s Tuesday, I am awake and drinking coffee, Sparky is being annoying because he wants attention and my body doesn’t feel quite awake yet. The heat warning is going through the weekend (!!!) so again, probably going to try to stay inside as much as possible. There’s only a month left of this extreme heat…yay? There were some systems out there they were watching for potential hurricane development, but this morning’s check of the NOAA web page shows nothing of interest, which is different from the last time I looked at that map. But the local weather also shows nothing to watch out there, so I guess those systems disbursed? Not sure how to feel about that and whether to trust it or not, but….nothing to worry about is nothing to pay attention to. Our garbage disposal also–per our landlady–has a clogged filter so my kitchen sink spigots don’t let any water through. This started on Sunday, but Sam the handyman wasn’t around yesterday, but he’s out there this morning so I will tell him on my way out to the office and hopefully, tonight I can do the dishes. Yesterday was very miserably hot, so much so that the a/c in the car never blew cool. I was concerned–it needs freon, I think, so Friday morning I’ll have to drive over to the West Bank (due for oil change, too) and get that looked at–there’s no way I can survive a summer here without functional a/c in the car.

We are all caught up on House of the Dragon, and watched another Ride or Die. I was glad to see Sir Criston die horribly and dishonorably; personally I loved that he challenged his foes to a duel only to get an arrow in the chest in response. It also made me think of an allegory last night, as Rhaenyra and Daemon continued to make mistakes and fail at ruling; it’s much easier to capture a throne than it is to govern, as the Republicans remind us over and over. The only thing they are actually good at is being an opposition party. Democrats are shitty at opposition but good at governing for the most part. Isn’t that always the way? Westeros is descending into chaos again–and chaos, as we remember from Littlefinger, is a ladder.

Yesterday was a kind of weird one, honestly. I did feel off all day, not really sure what that was all about, but I also managed to get current on everything. I did some writing yesterday, too, but not much but it was something, a couple of hundred words, but it was some progress and every word is one word closer to having a completed first draft. I am coming straight home from work tonight, and if the sink is working I’ll do the dishes, and then I am going to reread what I already have done and make notes–I already have some for Chapter One–and hopefully this weekend I will be able to get more written, since I’ll be camped out inside the house all weekend. The house is a very lovely cool oasis from the heat and humidity. Oh! I also figured out some more Scotty things! Which makes me happy, you have no idea. I was beginning to think Scotty was gone from me now…horrors!

And on that thought, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Taco Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.

@DavidFlorentine also does excellent New Orleans photography. Follow him on social media! I love this moody sunrise shot of Pirate’s Alley.

Love Sensation

Monday and back to the office with me, lickety-split and all that nonsense. I feel good and rested this morning, if having a bit of a slow start to the day, but once the coffee starts kicking in I should be fine. Here’s hoping for a lovely week. The coffee is quite good; one of the chores I did yesterday was descaling and cleaning the Keurig, which was very overdue. I did quite a bit yesterday, given how much time I spent sitting in my easy chair, chilling out. But I got some work done on the floors, organized the refrigerator and freezer to optimize space, and now probably this coming weekend I will work on the kitchen cabinets and the laundry room and my workspace. It was lovely coming downstairs to a clean kitchen this morning, and also kind of relaxing. I have some errands to do, and am wondering about getting them handled today on the way home from work tonight. We’re in both a heat advisory and an extreme heat watch, with the “feels like” in the high hundred and teens. YIKES!!! The car is going to feel amazing when I get in it after work this afternoon….yay.

Yesterday was a very lovely day–it’s so lovely to enjoy weekends free from stress about the gazillion emails waiting in my inbox, you have no idea–and I did some vastly overdue chores and organizing, while watching television and doing some writing. (So many people think I’ll be bored when I finally retire from the day job. Hardly. Not so long as I can read, watch, and type, darlin’.) I got caught up on the news–Ukraine continues to embarrass and wreck the Russian economy and war effort, and it’s just a matter of time before Putin falls, isn’t it? I am very pleased with how the weekend went, and I feel so completely rested this morning, it’s kind of wild, you know?

House of the Dragon is so much better this season than the previous ones, and I have to say I am glad I went back and gave this season a second chance after that terrible season opener. Finally things are happening instead of the conspiring–not good, especially given Game of Thrones–but I still don’t care who winds up on the Iron Throne, and given it’s Westeros, my guess is none of these contenders that we are seeing will win anything. Royal family feuds inevitably and historically weaken dynasties–so is it such a wonder that the Targaryens fell, and this was how it all started? I just wish the first two seasons hadn’t been quite so slow with all the set-up.

Started rereading Celebrity yesterday, and picked out my next reads–picked out a novel I don’t know how I acquired–and it entirely possible I confused this author with someone else (it’s happened before, and will happen again). Regardless, the first three paragraphs of The Last House on Needless Street sucked me right in AND triggered my creativity, so am looking forward to getting deeper into my read. It seems like one of those fabulous “creepy house down the street in a small town, which I love (We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the ur-novel of this subgenre), so we shall see how that goes. L.A. Noir will be my nonfiction; it’s also research, after all. I also must make a list of research necessary for the next Scotty, so I can get started doing that. I also want to finish this chapter of Chlorine before working on some short stories. I also am thinking again about The Last Picture Show and writing an essay about its depiction of masculinity and male sexuality, which would also require a revisit.

Still digesting Rough Pages, which was so engrossing and smart, with so much to say. I wish I had gone deeper into the importance of queer books, which is the book’s overlying theme, in my newsletter recommending the book to my subscribers. We have so many amazing queer crime writers these days, it’s hard keeping up with them all.

We also started watching Ride or Die, and seriously–can we have Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer in everything, seriously? This show is incredible, and both women are fantastic in their roles. Why haven’t we seen Waddingham as an action/adventure star before? She is a goddess, and the way she lights up the screen is amazing. Highly recommend this one, seriously.

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

Gorgeous out bisexual actor Francois Arnaud for Under Armour. Damn! You see why I’ve been a fan since The Borgias.

My Sins Are My Savior

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well thus far. I am having a very nice weekend, and I do hope you are having one as well, Constant Reader. I’m hoping for another good day today. I’m not sure what Paul’s plans are for the day, but mine will include finding something new to watch, since we finished Cross yesterday. I am tempted, of course, to start The Vampire Lestat but I’d rather wait to watch it until it’s all finished airing. (I’ve always been a bit of an Anne Rice fan-boy, and her connection to New Orleans was one of the things that originally made me think about living here, after reading The Witching Hour, which I should also revisit sometime.) I quite enjoyed Interview with the Vampire, and I might need to revisit those two seasons as well. I just saw yesterday there will be s fourth season, aptly titled The Queen of the Damned, so maybe the entire series will be filmed for television, which would be kind of cool; I did enjoy some of the later books, too. I also like this cast a lot. Anyway, how could I have forgotten Ride or Die? Clearly that would be the best option for our next watch. Octavia Butler and Hannah Wasddingham? Sign me the fuck up.There’s also another film streaming now that I want to see.

I had some groceries delivered, and made baked potatoes for dinner–so delicious with Kerrygold butter, cheddar cheese, fresh ground black pepper, and Maldon salt, with bacon bits and some chives. We’re both trying to eat not only healthier food but smaller portions as well to take off some weight. I bought a new pair of jeans at Costco on Friday (yes, that’s me, the gay fashion plate), and I’d like to get back down to two hundred pounds again, which I think is do-able. Paul worked out with his trainer and then went to the gym to ride the bike for a few hours. Sparky was cuddly and wanted my lap, and I really wanted to finish reading my book…so I put on the 2022 Alabama-LSU game on Youtube while I read and did some things. I finished the laundry and put away the dishes, ordered some groceries to be delivered, and had a very good day overall, despite the late start. When that game finished I put on 2019 LSU-Florida (which we were actually in the stadium for; it was one of my favorite games I’ve attended–the weather was perfect, the game was lit, and the crowd was on fire).

I actually came up with a working title for the new Scotty as well as the opening to the prologue, and the opening of Chapter One as well–and since I also have the disparate threads of plots decided upon, just not how to really tie them all together as of yet; I thought that was some excellent work on a day where I felt like I was being lazy, to be honest. I’ve been writing in my easy chair on the MacBook Air, and I’m getting more and more used to writing on it, so I have less excuses for not writing, which is a good thing.

I also wrote and sent out a new newsletter, which you can read by clicking here! This time out I talk about Lev AC Rosen’s Rough Pages, which I finished yesterday and absolutely loved. I think I am going to reread Larry Kramer’s Faggots next, along with getting back to my reread of The Ivy Tree and I think my next new read will be either Wanda Morris’ latest, or maybe something neither gay nor crime, but will pick out a few today to choose from; I do have so many marvelous books I have yet to read. I ordered copies of Emily Wilson’s translations of The Odyssey and The Iliad, and may get around to the Aeneid, too; it’s been a long ass time and my perspective has shiufted since then. There’s also Celebrity, which a friend reminded me of lately, and I had been thinking about writing about because one of the three main characters is a deeply closted gay man who is also a major movie star–and what I remember about how his sexuality was depicted is, well, pitiful. the life he was living wasn’t enviable, and was actually horrifically sad. I’d like to reread it, not only to reexamine Mack’s depiction but how the book was structured, which I have always felt was intricately built so would like to deconstruct it some.

We also watched Masters of the Universe last night. Nicholas Galitzine looks pretty (despite the lack of fur bikini) and Dolph Lundgren (whio played him in the last live action movie) had a cameo close to the beginning. Despite being visually beautiful and cinematic, as well as clever and funny at times, but the story’s not great; it’s a cartoon story that doesn’t really translate well into a live action big budget film. Masters of the Universe was always an infomercial for toys rather than an actual show, and not much creative thought went into it–He-Man? Skeletor? Evilynn? Sorceress? I remember the Saturday morning cartoon was popular while I worked at Toys R Us. I fucking hated working that aisle, and how stupid I thought the kids who were into it had to be to not recognize how basic and simple everything was. They need so little creativity for their entertainments? I saw the original film in the theater, with Dolph Lundgren and Frank Langella, with a very young Courtney Cox (fresh off that Bruce Springsteen video) and her love interest was the guy who’d played Charlie Brent on All My Children (with Lauren Holly as his love interest, no less–Pine Valley had some very good young talent pass through for teen drama storylines). The movie was fun, but Dolph’s cloak concealed his fur bikini too much for my taste. It was fun and silly and not anything I ever needed to watch again…and I feel the same way about this version. Just empty calories, but there’s nothing wrong with that either. There’s also a strong 1980 Flash Gordon aesthetic I appreciate to the movie–there was even a point where Paul started singing “FLASH! Ah ah, savior of the universe!” and I had been literally thinking the same thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will do the same here in New Orleans. See you tomorrow morning!

The ruins of Fort Livingston on Grand Terre Island; another evocative writing-prompt image!

Danceteria

And here I am, on Monday morning again, yawning and swilling coffee before I get ready for work. We’re busy this week, so I am going to be drained and tired when I come home from work every day this week. That’s fine, really. I had a most lovely weekend to begin with. I spent a lot of time just resting and relaxing, but I did get some things done. I’m not used to having so little hanging over my head that I have this much free time, and I have to say that I kind of love having time to just decompress and chill while still being able to get some things done.

We’re in a heat advisory again, and there’s a storm forming in the gulf–Bertha–projected to most likely come this way and pass over New Orleans, but it’s potential for strengthening beyond tropical storm (still not something to sneeze at, just means we don’t have to evacuate) is not very strong and we should start feeling effects of this on Tuesday, supposedly. This means we’ll probably get heavy rains this week, possible flooding, and the potentiality of losing power. I also need to check out what’s going on with the fecal infected vegetable products as I need to stop at the store and make some groceries on the way home; although I did see the FDA was coerced into walking back blaming Taylor Farms for this round of cyclospora. Thanks again, RFK and DOGE. Are we healthy again yet?

Sherlock Holmes, of all people, was on my mind this weekend for some reason I am not certain of; I think I was offered a ridiculously low ebook price for The Hound of the Baskervilles. I know I want to write an essay about not being a Sherlockian; I’ve always felt my lack of appreciation for Holmes was something shameful for someone who identifies primarily as a crime writer. When I wrote that historical story about a New Orleans-based Sherlock in 1916, I did read some of the short stories I hadn’t read before and enjoyed them, and Sherlock dances back into my head every once in a while, primarily because I’d like to revisit that time and write about it more. But does it have to be a Sherlock story? Why can’t I have a New Orleans-based world’s greatest detective? It’s an interesting time period, as Storyville still existed as did anti-Italian prejudice aka they’re all Mafia, where they lived in the lower Quarter. There are also all kinds of interesting cases in New Orleans history that could also go back to that time, too. I don’t feel like I know enough about Holmes to write more about him as a 1916 New Orleanian with a desire for male flesh….I also like the idea of writing about New Orleans when it was primarily accessible only by water. The 1915 hurricane after-effects would also be interesting to write about, especially since both St. Malo and Freniere were wiped off the map. I already have a Sherlock short story idea having to do with Freniere–but I’ve held off on writing it because I need to decide whether to base my character on Sherlock, and continue with him as I have already adapted him.

I also wonder if I should be writing about Sherlock.

Since Lisa Morton will occasionally urge me to write more horror (which is incredibly sweet, encouraging and supportive all at the same time) so I have been thinking about horror more these last few weeks or so. I have an idea for a horror novel that I am toying with currently, which could be a lot of fun to write–horror always is–but like the Sherlock thing, I’m not sure I have the background knowledge or the necessary steeping in the genre that I should have…then again, I always am very quick to point out my lack of formative knowledge in the crime genre (see: Sherlock Holmes), too, but I write it anyway. Horror always, surprisingly enough, turns my mind towards Alabama and the Florida panhandle and the Sierra Nevada mountains. I also came up with the opening for a new series I am interested in tackling this weekend, too…

I did work some on the book as well as a couple of short stories…and I also thought a lot about the next Scotty and what to make it about. I was going to go with January before parades start, with it opening as the boys watch the Krewe de Vieux parade pass beneath their balcony, but then I remembered the S&WB project that has the streets in the Quarter all torn up and thought, well, I’d need to look into the construction work and then started thinking about October/November; something to do with Halloween as the title anchor, and Hijinks as the third word, but I need something to go in between; I can’t use season because I just used that…maybe Halloween Pumpkin Hijinks? Maybe candy? Sigh.

I also hate that the World Cup is over and everyone is going home…but at least Spain beat Argentina (ETTD).

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

Erling Halaand, my World Cup crush

Red Vision

Thursday, last day of work this week and I get to leave at two thirty. Huzzah! Holiday Weekend Eve, I suppose this is. I slept well and feel rested this morning, which is good. We’re slow in the clinic today and the way my hours worked out, I get to leave around three this afternoon, too–which is also pretty cool and a lovely way to segue into the holiday weekend. Huzzah! I was able to come home directly from the office yesterday, too, and managed to empty the dishwasher to get a leg up on the chores I’ll need to do this weekend. I did manage to get a newsletter out yesterday, which you can read by clicking here. It’s about my reread of Margot Douaihy’s Blessed Water (relisten?) on my trip last weekend, and I really need to finish reading Lev Rosen’s Rough Pages, which I started listening to on the drive back and got to Chapter Eight before getting home and turning off the car. I feel pretty good this morning, which is nice. I know we’re slow today in the clinic, and I definitely need to do a lot of paperwork today–I’m behind again, and our site visit will be coming up soon, either next week or the one after–so I have plenty to keep me occupied at the office today, which is fine with me. I get to leave around two, so the day is going to fly past. I don’t think we’re in a heat advisory today (I’ve not seen anything on line or on my phone so far1) and according to the “forecast,” we’re getting some thunderstorms this afternoon right around when I will be leaving, so that’s great. Since I am leaving so early today, I am thinking about running some errands so I won’t have to do anything tomorrow–but on the other hand, I could just have some things delivered, which is easier still.

Something to think about, at any rate.

Last night we watched this week’s Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, which I don’t see anyone talking much about, which is a shame. It’s really good and I am enjoying it. After that, we caught up on the news but I was falling asleep in my chair so I went to bed shortly after nine and slept deeply and well, only getting up once in the middle of the night before going back to a very sound sleep. I’ve not been very productive this week, but that was because last weekend’s truncation was mentally fatiguing, I guess. I’ve not had much creative thought this week, and I need to get back into the saddle again, I think. Reading tonight and possibly trying to write too should be helpful, and tomorrow I think I will try to be as productive as I can be so I can use Saturday as a holiday and just rest and watch movies and read. I have another newsletter I need to get out tomorrow, and another one to write this weekend (or when I finish Rough Pages). I also want to write one for the holiday, and talk about the difference between the Bicentennial and this 250th disgrace we are witnessing as taxpayer money disappears into a massive grift, like everything MAGA touches. If you can’t capitalize on the stupidity of your cult, why bother having one?

I also need to be even kinder to myself. Of course I am going to be drained emotionally and mentally when I come back from visiting my mother’s grave!

Oy. The depth and totality of my utter and complete obliviousness is really astounding at times.

I saw a debut author had apparently lost their mind on social media and starting doxxing–and encouraging her followers to go after some book club that didn’t like her book. Way to end your career as it’s just getting started. Yes, when you’re new that sort of thing absolutely stings and hurts, and it makes you worry if people will read the review and not read your book. It doesn’t matter in the long run–how many one-stars has James Patterson or Dan Brown gotten? And how has it slowed them down? The answer is not at all. You can’t embrace good reviews while being upset by bad ones, and nothing is a faster trip down the lane of complete and utter insanity than letting reviews get under your skin. I know I used to when I was new, and maybe one will sting when I come across it, but I don’t comment, I don’t bring attention to it, and I dismiss it and don’t even think about it again. I remember one bad review for my first book., and I use it as an example because the end result of that review was me making Scotty being even gayer than I had originally planned…you think Chanse is a stereotype? I”ll show you a fucking stereotype!

And interestingly enough, Scotty–the biggest gay stereotyped character ever written by a gay crime writer–has never been called one by a reviewer.

This is why I no longer read reviews, and have never ventured into the shark-infested waters of Goodreads.

The on-going war between New Orleans and Baton Rouge continues. It’s interesting living under the state’s version of racist homophobic MAGA fascism. I also believe our pos shit Attorney General (who may appear under a slightly different name in the next Scotty book) should be stripped of her law degree because she refuses to abide by either the state or federal constitution and consistently thinks she somehow has the right to tell New Orleans what it can or cannot do; our state Supreme Court all has their head up the Governor’s flat crusty unwashed ass, too and SCOTUS? Not much better.

Sigh. Happy upcoming 4th of July weekend to you, too. And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader and hang in there; resist resist resist. I’ll be here again tomorrow morning, without fail.

I love this drone shot of canoers on a bayou in the Atchafalaya Swamp. Ben Pierce is a great Louisiana landscape photographer; check out his website. I always get his calendars. I would love to write about the Atchafalaya swamp someday and its Cajun history.
  1. I stand corrected; we are in a heat advisory until (or if) the rains come. ↩︎

Prisoner of Love

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week, which is pretty cool. Yesterday was a pretty good day, really. I woke up several times during the night, sadly, but feel pretty rested and awake for this late in the week. I guess I am finally getting used to getting up early, after all these years. Then again, the fatigue issues were always related to the ulcerative colitis, so I definitely had the wrong impression about being in my sixties. AN enormous relief there, you know. After work I came straight home and turned myself into a cat bed for Sparky (who is not the lithe kitten he once was but still thinks he is) and we watched this week’s episode of Widow’s Bay and started season two of Running Point, whose first season we enjoyed before going to bed. I didn’t do any writing or reading yesterday, but hope to get back in that proverbial saddle again today. I also have to run some errands tonight on the way home–mail, pick up a prescription–and then, I am hoping I won’t have to leave the house very much over the weekend. Next weekend is a four day one, and then I am driving up to Alabama later this month to meet Dad for their anniversary. And then it’s July, and the dog days of summer have truly begun here.

And before you know it, it’s football season again.

I do need to set some goals for this summer, and all of them have to do with writing. I need to clean out the storage attic sooner rather than later, which is a good project for the summer. I also want to get some short stories out on sub, and I want to get this draft of the book finished, so I can get going on the next Scotty–Twelfth Night Knavery–by the end of this year and maybe get that done as well. I also want to get some essays for the newsletter finished this weekend; I am behind schedule but since I have set said schedule and the only person disappointed by my failure is me–and it really doesn’t bother me all that much. But I also don’t need to sit around all weekend wasting time, either.

I recently came across yet another catastrophic hurricane to hit New Orleans; the 1893 Cheniere Caminada hurricane of 1893, which destroyed the town it’s named after in Jefferson Parish when it came ashore. So many destructive hurricanes have come through here since the French built the first hut on the banks of the river way back in the eighteenth century–there has to be a book about the hurricane history of New Orleans, doesn’t there? As much as I would love to read one, I don’t want to write one! If I knew how to do research properly, once I was retired I could write some marvelous nonfiction because there are so many archives here in the city; New Orleans has always done its best to document itself, even if the original sources may be unreliable. (I think of the time wasted reading the old books about New Orleans history, which weren’t trustworthy; men like Robert Tallant and Harnett Kane and others, wrote horribly racist histories which were all mostly lore and legend rather than actual fact. They were entertaining, sure, but oh my GOD the racism is abhorrent.)

I’m thinking about writing a new series, honestly; set in a small town down in the bayou with supernatural creatures and murders. I know, it sounds like a ripoff of Charlaine–which is why this idea, which I’ve had since the 1990s (and more of a Dark Shadows riff rather than Charlaine’s books), and last night I did figure out how to bring the main character to this spooky parish down the bayou.

I also need to get the print-on-demand for Bourbon Street Blues done at some point, and then get the ebook of Jackson Square Jazz (and the pod) up, and I also want to get a short story collection up, too.

SO much to do, occasionally feel like I want to do it all, and of course I wind up taking more down time than I should and….yeah, whatever.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, and I thank you as always for stopping by. See you tomorrow!

Maybe dreams can come true and I will see Egypt before I die! An aerial view of the Luxor temple.

Better Man

Tuesday and here I am again, up before dawn and swilling coffee while Sparky slurps down his breakfast. It rained yesterday, and when I went to work in the morning it was so muggy and hot I despair thinking about the summer. Termite season also opened last night but I didn’t see any, thank the Lord. Yesterday was a nice way of easing back into the day job, really; it was slightly busy but very laid back, which was cool. It rained most of the afternoon and was rather gloomy when I drove home from the office; Sparky was also very needy when I got home. I queued up season one of The Traitors Canada (all three seasons were loaded onto Peacock recently), and watched a couple of episodes before calling it a night. I also managed to finish writing a newsletter that I scheduled for Saturday, so that’s this week taken care of. Today’s goal is to answer all my emails that have been lurking in my inbox for a very lengthy time. Friday is a doctor appointments most of the day, and in Metairie at that, which means a Costco trip on the way home–it’s been quite a while since we went to Costco–and I am actually feeling less groggy this morning compared to yesterday. I also picked out my next read, which will go with me to the appointments on Friday, and I am really looking forward to starting it.

It was, as I mentioned, an easy transitional day yesterday, while today is more of a “back to normal” kind of day. The good news is I wasn’t tired when I got off work yesterday–but the combo of a needy cat and new seasons of The Traitors to watch was a one-two punch that guaranteed I simply could not resist the lure of my easy chair, which means I’ll have to do some chores tonight when I get home before either writing or relaxing for the evening. We’ll see how it goes, I suppose.

I slept really well last night, so feel pretty rested and good this morning. Since I got back from the trip I’ve really been sleeping incredibly well, which is great. Usually I am very fatigued and worn out after a trip, but this one wasn’t so bad–which might mean that my recovery from–well, everything is progressing nicely. I’m not used to being unwell or being severely injured or any of that nonsense. It’s not something I’m familiar with, and all the minor stuff over the years I kind of bounced back relatively quickly from, if I am recalling correctly, so being older when I had my first serious stuff happen was a double-shocker, and of course, the ulcerative colitis was working and weakening my immune system…which also delayed recovery time. It’s been a year since I was hospitalized, and that is the worst I have ever felt in my life. I never ever want to feel that sick again. Horrible, simply horrible.

Now that I’ve come up with a five-year-plan for my retirement (hurray!)–which is really my five year plan to prepare for it–I should probably get together a plan for what to write for the next five years and set some goals, too. Ideally, I would like to get everything finished that is already in progress, a daunting task to be certain, because there are so damned many. Right now, I want to finish what I am working on so I can write another Scotty to be out next year, and I also want to revise and rewrite Sorceress into something new–which I’ve already figured out. And the novellas…Christ on the cross. I’d also like to get some short stories out on submission as well; I have so many stories I’ve not finished that I could actually get worked on, finished and revised and sent out. I only have one story coming out in an anthology this year (more on that later), which was one of those unfinished stories; I want to have more next year.

Look at me, feeling ambitious again. Who am I, and what have I done with one Gregalicious?

And on that note, it’s off to the spice mines with me! Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I shall be back on the morning tide tomorrow. Till then, stay fabulous!

Can you say HOT DADDY? Age truly is merely a number, isn’t it? I sure hope so, at any rate.

It Ain’t Easy Being Easy

Work at home Friday, and we made it through another work week in one piece (at least so far). The world is still here (for now), too, so if you’ve made it without losing your mind, killing someone, or just completely breaking down sobbing in a corner, congratulations! I did get tired yesterday afternoon, which wasn’t a surprise, but I was fine all morning and managed to get a lot done at the office, which was awesome. I was a bit tired to write words last night, so I decided to just chill, relax, do some chores when I felt like it, and think instead about what I am going to write today after my work-at-home duties. Naturally, that meant me doing little-to-nothing once I got home. Sparky was feeling lonely and needing some comfort love, which meant me providing my lap for his bed for almost the entire evening. I didn’t mind, of course; sleeping purr-kitty is very relaxing and calming. I caught up on the horrific news–these are the times that would have killed Molly Ivins, because trying to keep up on everything and writing humorously about it would have worn her down for sure.

So, apparently CNN conservative sleazebag Scott Jennings was outed as a closet case by Chef Joe Gera1. (See Matthew Rettenmund’s blog, along with some other queer news as well as some shots of actor Tom Blyth in the altogether; he’s a good resource and you should think about subscribing!) Scott Jennings is one of those white male mediocrities who has wound up as a fascism-enabler–this rat will definitely go down with the ship–and sits there with that asshole smirk while he smugly condescends to everyone else on the show. CNN was also responsible for giving us Tucker Carlson, thanks so much for that, by the way. It also raised the specter of outing again. I always go by the original ACT UP explanation for outing–if you are in a position to do harm to queer people, you do, and you’re closeted, well, fuck you and you definitely should be outed. (See: Aaron Schock) Are the allegations about Jennings accurate? Maybe, maybe not. But as far as I am concerned, we can put his unwashed fascist ass on a ice floe and set it adrift north of Canada.

Sparky only let me have about a half an hour of extra sleep this morning, so I am up way eariler than I’d intended; I never voluntarily get up at six thirty in the morning. I do feel rested and good. We watched another episode of Unchosen last night, which took another twist I didn’t see coming in last night’s episode. I kind of had wondered if this kind of twist was coming–mainly, because the show is doing such a great job with the characters that it seemed natural, but it still was a big surprise when they landed the twist. We are obsessed with this show, and of course, it has me thinking about cults again as well as Kansas, which is where I always think of when my mind turns to cults. I was thinking last night about several books I want to write that are set in Kansas–there are three I really hope I get to do while I am still writing. I also thought some more about the next Scotty, and I’m thinking I may move it up from Carnival to the Halloween before, as the story develops in my brain. I do love this creative phase I’m enjoying right now, and it’s not as frenetic and wild as they used to be; probably because the anxiety is under control so I am not getting dozens of new ideas weekly, which is also kind of a relief. I think having my mind ping around so rapid-fire the way it used to was also kind of exhausting and stressful. I like this whole new calm, centered thing medication is doing to my brain these days. And now it’s the weekend, with me feeling calm and rested and excellent. Huzzah!

I do have some work duties to do this morning that I will be diving into as soon as I finish writing this, and some other personal chores that have to be done this morning, too, which shouldn’t be an issue. I do think I am going to mostly stay home today. I have a couple of errands I can run later on (or tomorrow), and of course I’d like to get some cleaning done around here. I also need to wash and clean out the car since I am driving north a week from today (Paul leaves Tuesday to head north, too).

So I want to do some reading and writing this weekend, and get some newsletters finished as well. I feel good about everything in my life at the moment, and that’s always lovely. I am still doing a lot of processing and thinking about things that occurred in my life and making sense of them–and their lasting impact–on who I am. Maybe it was the anxiety, but I was always afraid somewhat to look back and relive/think about things again; mainly because I was certain I’d be embarrassed or ashamed. ANd maybe that’s true. Maybe I didn’t do this before because there was so much anxiety, and so much determination to always see the bad or negative about myself and now I can actually handle it? Regardless, I’m actually kind of enjoying this unpacking process while being kinder to, and forgiving, myself.

That’s healthy, right?

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in tomorrow with a progress report. Ta till then!

Anubis, Egyptian god of the afterlife and Lord of the Sacred Land
  1. We’ll see if there’s any truth or veracity to the claim, but it did make me laugh. He is so self-loathing, which is clearly apparent. I guess not thinking it was about sucking dick was probably a self-defense mechanism my brain used to protect from the horror of thinking him queer. ↩︎

After the Gold Rush

Today’s title is an old Neil Young song that I first heard as a cover by Prelude in 1974, and then again by Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt on their Trio II album, which is the best version in my opinion. Their harmonies are angelic, you know? The song’s lyrics are apocalyptic and strange, but also very beautiful. It actually inspired a novel I’ve never gotten to; one of those a bunch of college kids visit a ghost town in the California mountains and end up being picked off one by one type novels, but maybe someday I’ll get back to it. One never knows. I also figured out what to do with Sorceress and its unfinished sequel this weekend, too, which is very exciting. It was a pretty good weekend after all, wasn’t it?

I did feel a bit groggy yesterday morning, and it was overcast, which didn’t help get me motivated to wake up and get moving, and I was still a bit groggy and unmotivated when I got to the office. It wasn’t a slow day, but it wasn’t a busy day, either. I did hit a wall around noon, but after eating lunch I kind of had my strength and energy back so I made it through the day. I stopped and made a small bit of groceries on my home, and had every intention of doing chores when I got home–but my easy chair and Sparky made short work of that. Paul worked at home yesterday, so he came down and we finished watching The Night Agent, which we both enjoyed before going to bed last night. I feel pretty good this morning–didn’t want to get up, like always–but I am not achy and sore.

While I was watching television last night, I started paging through Jackson Square Jazz and thinking, hmm, this sentence is awkward and wouldn’t write it that way now here and there, so maybe I should go through and do a revision before getting it formatted and so forth. I was always hesitant about revising my old work–what’s done is done has always been my theory–but now I’m wondering if I should? There’s also a lot going on in that book, almost like I threw everything into it but the kitchen sink. It was more layered and deeper than Bourbon Street Blues, which was just a caper adventure. It was also nice seeing how much Scotty’s voice has changed over the years as he’s grown and matured; he was kind of a Peter Pan type, just enjoying his life and not thinking about the future–or worrying about it, too.

We’re going to be busy in the clinic today, so I will probably be tired when I get home tonight. I had to jump through a couple of hoops first, but I was able to get a new appointment to see my GI specialist–the expensive medication needs a renewal, or maybe I’ll be changed to something else, who knows? It’s hard to believe at this time last year was when I got so terribly and horribly sick. It seems like longer than a year ago to me, but time has that weird ability to seem either short or long, doesn’t it?

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow morning on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday.

My Destination

Wednesday!

I felt a bit more tired this morning than I did yesterday morning, and when I creaked out of bed my legs did feel a little bit tired. It also took a moment for the coffee to kick in and get my day going. I wasn’t tired at all yesterday, not even after stopping to make groceries on the way home. Paul was also home, which was super-great; it’s nice when we’re both home in the evenings, and I’ve missed that. We started watching this latest (and last) season of The Comeback, and Lisa Kudrow kills it as Valerie Cherish. Now that we’re back to normal, we can start getting caught up on all the shows we watch that have dropped new seasons, and there are new shows to get started watching, too–we shouldn’t have any issues with not having something to watch for a little while, at any rate.

I sent out a new newsletter yesterday (click here if you want to read it!) about twenty-plus years of Scotty. As I said recently, for decades I kept myself too busy to think much about the past and avoided it at all costs. But being so sick regularly (whether it was an injury/surgery or illness) these past few years forced me to sit with myself and thinking back. Maybe I should have done this all a long time ago? I don’t know, but I am sitting with things now, and letting go of some anger I’ve been holding onto for too long. I’ve never been big on self-reflection, and focusing on myself just always seemed selfish, if that makes any sense? Reminding yourself when you’re going through something that there are still people worse off than you are is also kind of self-defeating–if you don’t look out for yourself, who is going to? And I am enjoying the peace, frankly. Maybe I should have opened the door to selfishness sooner. Anyway, I feel mentally at peace (as much as anyone can with the world burning to the ground around us) and I intend to protect that at all costs. It’s also nice having down time, where I can just pet Sparky and watch whatever catches my fancy on my television. I need to get better still with time management, but last night when I got home I did a load of dishes and ran the dishwasher. I also need to pick up the kitchen and living room a little bit. Since today is April 1st (yay for April Fools Day) and this weekend is Easter (staying home on Sunday for sure)…it’ll be interesting. I have a dinner date for Friday evening with a friend in from out of town, so that should start my weekend off nicely. I do have to come into the office Friday morning for a department meeting, but will probably run some errands on my way home to get them out of the way once and for all.

But it has been interesting these past few years recognizing why I do certain things the way I do (it’s usually an anxiety coping measure I no longer need), and recognizing that some of my similarities to my mother were because we both suffered from generalized anxiety disorder.

Well, well, well, cosplay Kristi Noem just got so publicly embarrassed and humiliated that a smart woman would disappear forever from public life…but I don’t think that’s going to happen. In all honesty, I don’t care what her husband is into, and while yes, I can see how embarrassing and humiliating that would be for anyone, it’s really nobody’s business–and I might even be willing to not point and laugh if she wasn’t a completely garbage human being. You want privacy, bitch? Renee Good’s and Alex Vretti’s families would like to have them alive and well, and why aren’t they, you Nazi piece of shit? Fuck you now, fuck you tomorrow, and fuck you forever. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to explore these options, Crusty, if you weren’t fucking Corey Lewandowski. And how and why did these images leak now? If someone on the left had them, they would have come out before she was fired from her latest job. So…it stands to reason this leak came from her side of the aisle.

It also stands to reason that these lockstep MAGA politicians who love the taste of shoe leather and shoe polish probably have dark or embarrassing secrets themselves and are being held in line with blackmail.

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

Oscar winner Michael B. Jordan