Tag: South Park

East Bound and Down

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hero

Work at home Friday! Man, I was tired yesterday when I got off work–not the fatigue, thank God, just a little burned out. I had dinner with a friend at Acamaya in the Bywater (highly recommend) and then came home to just collapse into my easy chair for the evening with Sparky the Needy (Paul did stay at the office late, so li’l Sparkster was home alone much longer than he usually is, so yes, he has abandonment issues) and catch up on the news. I didn’t work on the book because I was very tired, but I only have to work a few hours this morning and then I get to run a couple of errands before diving headfirst into the book. The house is also a horrible mess…too tired last night to do anything. I probably wasn’t great company at dinner, because I really did hit a wall, and this morning my hips and legs ache. I’m beginning to think I can’t even have a solitary cocktail anymore; I had one with dinner last night and this morning I feel like I’ve been through the wringer. No hangover–it was one drink, after all, a margarita–but the fatigue is here in a very big way. And the house is a mess, mess, mess.

Heavy heaving sigh.

But the coffee and breakfast (yay, caffeine and blood sugar spike!) are starting to kick in and my body is warming/waking up and so is my mind. Huzzah! It also looks like a bright, sunshine day outside; low humidity and sunny and warm, of course.

When Paul got home we watched this week’s South Park, which was hilarious in its ruthless political satire. I’m not sure why or when we stopped watching South Park regularly; probably in the times after Hurricane Katrina, and while I am enjoying watching again–I am not at the point where I would want to go back and watch the YEARS I’ve not seen. I fell asleep in my chair at some point, waking up to go to bed around eleven thirty. I did sleep well last night, so I am not sure where this fatigue this morning is coming from…is it because of the work week, was it the drink I had with dinner, or was it both? I feel it much more this Friday than I did last Friday, so I am going to have to go with the cocktail. I don’t mind giving up alcohol completely; I was already down to the point where I only had alcohol when having dinner with friends, usually even then only white wine as a rule…so it’s not like I’m giving up something I do all the time and enjoy. And let’s face it; I started drinking alcohol when I was sixteen–so yeah, giving it up after almost fifty years of it isn’t really that big of a deal.

There are also a lot of great football games tomorrow, so after I get my writing work done for the day I am going to probably just watch games while cleaning or reading. LSU plays at 2:30, and it’s at Mississippi; I don’t think LSU has won up in Oxford since 2019, but I could be mistaken. I know LSU lost the last time in Oxford for sure–that was that insane game than ended up something like 59-54 or something like that, with Jayden Daniels playing unbelievably well; if we’d only had a defense that year we could have gone all the way, methinks. And of course Alabama-Georgia is tomorrow, too; Auburn is at Texas A&M, and I’ve not really looked at much more than that other than Notre Dame at Arkansas (GO HOGS!). So, today I am going to do data entry, have an on-line team meeting, and then I am going to run my errands before coming home to get the house back under control and write, write, write and edit, edit, edit.

And now, I am going to go get another cup of coffee before getting to work on the laundry and opening my data entry website. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning. See you then!

I will always love Joe Burrow, and will always be grateful for that 2019 LSU championship team. I am also super-grateful that I got to see them play twice in person.

Since I Held You

Ah, another work at home Friday and man, was I fatigued yesterday. I’m hoping that sleeping late this morning and tomorrow will knock the last of the fatigue out of my system. I was more mentally alert in the morning than I’d been since the infusion, but the brain wiring started sparking and malfunctioning in the afternoon. I do hate when that happens, and my legs get super-tired and my feet feel like I’m just dragging them along for the ride. Most unpleasant, actually. Needless to say, I didn’t run any errands on the way home last night, but after getting caught up on the news once I was home, I started doing research again on the 1970s by watching Youtube videos. (It’s amazing how much I’ve forgotten about the 1970s.) Today after work we’re going to go to Costco and run some various other errands, which means I’ll probably be exhausted again tonight. But that’s okay, I feel rested (my legs are still fatigued, though) and it’s always nice to get up to a cat alarm than to the horrible electronic beeping tones of an alarm.

I was kind of bummed there wasn’t a new episode of South Park this week, and I have to say, between the show and Gavin Newsom, I think this marks a sea change in the country. Turns out the MAGArbage doesn’t like being treated the way they’ve treated other people for the last ten years. Aw, they’re needing safe spaces like the precious, unique little snowflakes they are and always have been. But the masks are off them now permanently, and their narcissistic tantrums about “their” country and their “true” patriotism.

Sorry, if you try to overthrow the government, you’re not a patriot. And have we forgotten “Let’s go Brandon”? You’re not a patriot if you’re trying to cram your beliefs and values (such as they are) down the throats of everyone. You’re not a patriot if you celebrate and applaud violations of the Constitution. You can fetish worship symbols you don’t understand (for the record, wearing the flag as an article of clothing is also considered a desecration) all you want, but that doesn’t make you a patriot, especially if you don’t understand and appreciate what they symbolize.

And for the record, I am not about forgiving and forgetting. Straight white people, if and when this horrible period actually ends, will be all about that… just as they were after the Civil War. They always prefer to support other white people than oppressed minorities, to the detriment of the country, and we just wind up back where we were yet again because so many white people won’t address their bigotries and prejudices.

And as for Jillian Michaels, she has always been a garbage person. Anyone who calls herself a “gay woman” instead of “lesbian”? That’s kind of telling. She wants to join, and only associate, with the rich conservative cisgender white gays1. I do take some consolation in knowing that her unspeakable vileness means she is miserable and unhappy; it’s written all over her face. She must really be bitter that she can’t shame and embarrass overweight people on national television anymore. She was a disgrace to the fitness profession, and she’s a massive embarrassment of a human being. I hope she marries someone just like her and forgets the prenup. Irrelevant and useless, why does being a hateful bitch on television make her an authority on history and politics? Because she once had a reality show? Bitch, please.

This week, Taylor Swift announced, on the Kelce Brothers podcast, that she was dropping a new album, The Life of a Showgirl, in October. Yesterday she released the four alternate covers of the album, one of which is this:

One of the covers for Taylor Swift’s new album, The Life of a Showgirl.

She looks amazing, doesn’t she? But of course, trolls (who really need to get a life) did what they usually do whenever she does anything. The cover above was shared on social media by some bitter pill of a man in Houston, saying “She has young fans! How is this appropriate?” I personally have seen more skin on the beach or at a pool, and sometimes in the French Quarter. Yes, this is the problem, not a president who’s in the Epstein files for child rape, or all the youth pastors, or preachers, or priests arrested on the daily for raping kids. No, Taylor Swift in a Las Vegas-style showgirl outfit–on theme for her album–is the real problem2 kids are facing today.

God give me strength.

I am pleased to report, however, these zeta males were thoroughly ratioed and dragged in the comments…I don’t understand this sick need some people have for negative attention and being humiliated on-line (probably bots, but in some cases they are actually people), and probably never will.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will most likely not be back until tomorrow morning.

  1. The Log Cabins are vile, period. ↩︎
  2. Where is all the upset about kids possibly finding out about Laura Loomer and “Arbys in her pants”? Give me a break. ↩︎

You’re All I’ve Got Tonight

Thursday! Interestingly enough, after being so pleased yesterday morning and bragging about not having had insomnia in a long time was a mistake. I woke up around three this morning and never went back to sleep–if I did, it wasn’t very deep and I was waking up every ten minutes or so. This means I will hit a wall today, and probably earlier than I have been lately. I wanted to run errands on the way home from work tonight, but it’s not looking good. If I am worn out, I won’t want to drive uptown and should probably just come straight home. I need a few things from the grocery, but I might just have them delivered instead.

Unspeakable Sins continues to enthrall. Our primary villain was murdered in last night’s episode, and everyone in the main cast is a suspect (the episode was very “Who Shot JR?” in its staging and writing and very well done) and we’re on to the last three episodes of the season, which we should finish off tonight.

Well, I didn’t finish or post this yesterday. I am not sure why that happened, but I started doing some other things before getting ready for work and when I got home last night, I was surprised to see I’d never finished or posted this. I was right about yesterday–I was very tired when I got off work, but decided to do some of the errands on the way home. I picked up the mail, picked up three books I’d ordered (the new Donna Andrews, the new Scott Carson, and The Hunting Wives), but forgot to pick up prescriptions, which means I have to go back uptown today–which I’d hoped to avoid. I was extremely tired when I got home, and started watching a new National Geographic documentary about Katrina. I decided to bite the bullet and see how watching it went; if it was a trigger, I would stop watching. I didn’t finish the first episode, because Paul came home and we watched the new South Park1 and laughed our asses off before watching the final three episodes of Unspeakable Sins, which was excellent–and wrapped up everything, but also left us with a final shot that could be the set up for a second season should it be renewed.

Watching the documentary wasn’t triggering at all–at least not what I’d seen by the time Paul got home–and so I am going to finish watching it this weekend. I think twenty years was enough time for the PTSD to finally end (I am also taking anti-anxiety medication, which could help with this). We were able to watch Five Days at Memorial, which was a reenactment of what happened at that hospital with an emotional remove; maybe because it wasn’t actual documentary footage but a reenactment with Hollywood stars, I don’t know. Paul and I did watch it for a bit before I put on South Park, and we were remembering our own evacuation all those years ago without any sadness or emotion; it was nostalgia–I can smile about it now, I suppose, but we were so terrified on I-10 East and worried we wouldn’t get out in time. I also remember it started raining as we were on the twin spans to Slidell over the lake. Sigh. I was thinking I might post my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” to my newsletter, but it is over twenty thousand words long.

Or I could write another one., from my current perspective. We’ll see.

I’m not making big plans to get a lot done this weekend, as that never seems to work out for me and that always starts a guilt spiral. Who needs that in their life? Certainly not me! I have a meeting at ten and some day job duties to get done today. I have Monday off as well; it’s my final infusion and I couldn’t get my usual nine a.m. appointment so I could go to work after; this time they only had eleven a.m., which is smack dab in the middle of the day so I decided to use some sick time and just come home after I am done. I can also pick up lunch while I’m out in Metairie. I’m going to try to be a homebody this weekend, because I know the infusion is going to fatigue me. I may just read the rest of that day and rest.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later!

The Avenue of the Sphinxes connecting the temples at Luxor and Karnak, Egypt
  1. I have thoughts and concerns about this season, which is brilliant. ↩︎

Love Bites

Work at home Friday! My windows are covered in condensation, as we are expecting rain throughout the day–the thunderstorms are this afternoon. I have some things I need to get done today, including running to the postal service, and I would love to get the apartment finally under control (probably won’t happen) once I am finished with my work. It was a good week in the office, I must say. I slept in until about seven thirty this morning, before Sparky’s need to be fed became overpowering for him and he started hitting me in the face with one of his paws. Poor thing, he has no control over being fed so I always feel a bit guilty sleeping in.

Paul was late getting home again last night, and we watched the season premiere of South Park, and oh, how we laughed. It was one of the most brutal take-downs I’ve ever seen, and not only did 47 get burned like he was Dresden in early 1945, they also went after Paramount, CBS and 60 Minutes—and every last bit of the burns was well deserved. The fact that Paramount just paid $1.5 billion for five new seasons of the show and the streaming rights for every season is just *chef’s kiss*. (Which makes the Administration’s claim “the show has been irrelevant for over twenty years” even more butt-hurt hysterical.) I’ve not watched South Park in a very long time–not sure why or when I stopped watching, but I did–and this isn’t likely to make me want to go back and catch up on all the seasons I’ve missed, but it seems their anarchical mentality for satire has never been lost over the years?

I also kind of love that apparently the show has irritated liberals over the past decade for “punching down”, which made the Right think South Park was for them…and they just found out that it’s most definitely not. Thoughts and prayers, trash, thoughts and prayers.

No one is safe from South Park.

We’re in another heat advisory today, and things may not cool off should we actually get the rain forecast later. I am most likely going to spend as much of the weekend indoors to escape the brutality of the dog days. The new Entergy bill wasn’t as horrific as I thought it might be; it’s still ridiculously high, but not so high that paying it will be a struggle. The bill that will be due in September will be horrible, as well, but then it will start coming down for fall and winter. However did people live down here without air conditioning is a question I ask myself almost every day in the summer–but if you’ve never had it, you don’t miss it, and you adapt to the climate.

There have been a lot of celebrity deaths lately. Ozzy Osbourne, Malcolm Jamal-Warner, and Chuck Mangione all died this past week. Hulk Hogan also died, but that one didn’t hit me with a slight pang of oh that’s a shame; hearing of his death was another one of those good riddance to racist homophobic MAGA trash. I used to be a fan of Hulk Hogan, back in the days when it was the WWF and they did all those crossovers with MTV, which was a lot of fun to follow…but Hogan began wearing thin on me in the 1990s, and by the time we found out he was a bigot (and MAGA), I’d long since been done with him; that information only served to let me know I was right to think he was a garbage person. He did a lot for professional wrestling back in the day, but that didn’t mean he was good at actual wrestling. He had a large personality and knew how to work a crowd, but in the ring he didn’t really have much of a repertoire; he had very limited skills and clearly no desire to learn more…he was just a big man. (Ultimate Warrior was also a shitty wrestler with a huge body.)

Have fun in hell, Hulk.

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

Such pretty eyes!

Pour Some Sugar on Me

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I slept well again last night–didn’t want to get out from under my pile of blankets this morning, yet again–and we also had an amazing thunderstorm last night. Lightning was very close, the thunder rolled for what seemed like forever, and twice the power fluttered on and off before I went to bed. I had a good day at work yesterday–got a lot done there–and picked up the mail on the way home and there was plenty of it, too. This weather is the return of the system that was supposed to flood us this past weekend; it made a U-turn and basically came back. There’s no flood watch or anything, so it’s not as scary this time around, methinks. I did some chores when I got home before my usual catch-up on the news, and once Paul got home we started watching Untamed. We were on our second episode of the evening when the power blinked out then back on the first time, and it took forever for the wireless server to come back on line–Netflix is always slow to load, too–so we gave up for the evening. We’ll probably finish the show in another night or two, and then will have to find something new to watch again. Huzzah.

I am also still reeling a bit from how much my bi-monthly medication costs (#madness). It’s almost two hundred thousand dollars per year. Granted, that also includes the cost of the injection device that I have to attach to myself every eight weeks (I thought it was four; this is much better on me). It is on its way, and should be arriving sometime Friday at the postal service, so I can pop it into the refrigerator and keep it there until I need it in September. I have to go to the service on Friday anyway; I received the title pages for Double Crossing Van Dine anthology to sign (my co-editors, Donna Andrews and Art Taylor, have already signed them; I’m last to go) for the clothbound edition of the anthology. My story “The Spirit Tree,” is another Alabama story, for the record; yet another return to Corinth County! So one of the things I need to do either tonight or tomorrow morning is sign them.

Apparently I need to watch last night’s episode of South Park? Social media is completely abuzz with clips and general hilarity about this new episode, which targets Dumble-dumb. Something to stream while bonding with my precious Sparky tonight, at any rate. I also need to check my to-do list as well as make a more comprehensive one for the weekend. I have plenty of work to do at home tomorrow, of course, and lots of chores and writing and editing and cleaning to do around that, as always. I am trying to get my email inbox cleaned out, and I also need to do some studying on things. I don’t think I have to sign up for Medicare before I actually retire or stop working, according to what I have read, which is kind of a relief; I’d rather not deal with that frustrating red tape until I actually have to, you know?

Insurance shouldn’t be this crazy and complicated and irritating, frankly.

Neither should life.

I also want to get another newsletter out–either about the recent trend by gymbros to build up a beautiful butt1, or my one about the kids’ series featuring Vicki Barr, (pre-feminist) stewardess! I also owe a gazillion emails…sigh.

And on that note, it’s off to the spice mines with me. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning.

The Temple of Poseidon
  1. So much of a gym trend that Men’s Health published an article about it! ↩︎

Open Your Heart

Well, the Saints managed to win again yesterday. I had the game on while I went through the Bury Me in Shadows manuscript, making notes; I have to concur with the assessment I made of the manuscript initially Saturday–it’s not going to require a lot of work before I turn it in. It might even be ready to go as early as next weekend, if I stay focused, pay no attention to shiny objects, and stay on course. During the Saints game, I went over the manuscript more carefully; making notes on what to add and what to take away, and the whole thing is actually more cohesive than I originally thought. It’s not going to be easy–it never is–but getting this manuscript ready for my publisher isn’t going to be as rough a slog as it could have been.

I was very proud of myself this weekend as I got a lot done. I cleaned and organized and got so much done that was on my list of things to do–and I even got a great night’s sleep and so felt pretty rested…until the alarm went off at six this morning. I’d actually woken up at 5:52, and just stayed in bed until the alarm went off, hitting snooze twice because the bed felt nice and comfortable and warm. I’d rather not venture out into the world today–I’d much rather stay here in the comfort of my own home, and definitely would have preferred to stay in the warmth of my comfortable bed, but I have to get up and go to work and prepare myself for my two long days.

Heavy heaving sigh.

We watched more episodes of Bigmouth last night, and I can’t decide if the show is actually really uproariously funny, or if the shock of the things the show covers–all the joys of junior high school puberty, with all that entails–is what makes it funny; the whole oh my God are they really talking about that? thing that I also always wondered about South Park.

I finished my reread of The Haunting of Hill House also yesterday–it’s a very short book–and am still in awe of the genius of Shirley Jackson. The way she created a mood, and tension, with beautifully crafted sentences and paragraphs is simply amazing. I couldn’t help but think how much stronger her book is than the nearest thing to it that I can think of–Richard Matheson’s Hell House, which was excellent and used the same basic structure–a notorious haunted house, and some ghost hunters arrive to see if they can figure out what is going on there–in a completely different way. The books’ titles are even similar. But I love both books, enjoy them both tremendously, but one always makes me think of the other. Again, I’m not really sure Jackson should be classified as a horror writer–her work kind of defies classification–but she was definitely one of the best American writers of the twentieth century.

I was trying to remember how I first came across the Jackson novel; I knew of her through her short story “The Lottery,” which I read in high school. I’d seen the 1963 film version, The Haunting, which was one of the most terrifying movies I’d ever seen at that point in my life–I’ll never forget Julie Harris as Nell–but at that time I didn’t know it was a novel. I think I first became aware of the novel because Stephen King used that famous opening paragraph as an epigram for ‘salem’s Lot; and shortly thereafter came across a copy in a used book store–so naturally I had to buy it, and read it in one afternoon, completely enthralled…and I’ve never been without a copy of the book since. I started rereading it every year about ten years or so ago–the other book I reread every year is Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca–and I think both books have influenced me as a writer, even if that isn’t apparent in my actual work. (I’ve never finished reading the entire canon of either Jackson or du Maurier; they are both dead and therefore the established canon is all there is…and I never want to be finished with either author. I know, it’s crazy, but it’s also just the way I am.)

And on that note, tis off to the spice mines with me. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader!

557620_306575759457433_1737305115_n