Tag: Sparky

The Space Between

Friday and I have a meeting this morning, so it is not, after all, a work-at-home Friday completely; I am ust going in for the meeting before I come home to do some work. Sparky also has to go to the vet this afternoon, so he can’t eat this morning, which isn’t going very well. (It’ll be worse when I get home from the office. “What do you MEAN no breakfast? What do you mean you left and came back and it’s not dinner time?” Sigh. He’s whimpering under my desk right now, and I get it totally; I hate not being able to eat something when I am hungry and it’s my usual time to eat. Sigh.

I’m still basking in the afterglow from Tuesday, just waiting for the Democrats to officially win Mississippi and Alaska now, and even if the fascists hold those two seats, it won’t matter1. Soon, the Republicans and Fox are going to pretend they were never MAGA and will try to distance themselves from this entire anti-American movement, and this cannot happen this time. We allowed them to move on from January 6th, which should have ended the entire thing. There’s also no doubt that the Democrats, particularly if led by Schumer and Jeffries, can easily fumble this opportunity. But all the right-wingers who might run in 2028 are uncharismatic and not very well-liked across the board; they’d be better off getting a governor from a red state that no one has ever heard of–much like the Democrats brought in an outsider after Watergate, which is how we got Jimmy Carter. But…they never really do the smart thing, do they? Either side? I’ll never forgive the DNC for not helping Louisiana, Florida or Mississippi flip; which all three could have done easily. Both Louisiana and Florida were a point or less from understanding the assignment.

Howard Dean should have never been let go from party leadership after the massive blue shift in 2008. The way the national party has abandoned the South since then has been positively shameful; is it any wonder there’s voter apathy down here when the national party has basically said, “oh, well, you’re on your own, we can’t win there.” Scott Colom’s winning campaign, as well as the close ones Angie Nixon and Jamie Davis ran, beg to differ. This absolute failure of party leadership should end with every leader stepping aside for fresh blood; the people do not want the same-old, same-old. I don’t trust either Schumer or Jeffries, in all honesty. I’d love to be proved wrong, but…I sincerely doubt that will happen.

Bliss.

I am planning on enjoying this through the weekend, for the record; Monday I’ll come down from my cloud and face the world again. But, for now, I’m going to enjoy knowing that Russell Brand is going to jail; the Tate Brothers will never see freedom again, and the country is bouncing back. This is what I’ve been waiting for ever since the golden escalator, and it is beyond time for it to have happened. The cybertruck is also dead, this morning, and and the AI bubble is bursting.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Friday be as marvelous as you are, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

The Byzantine horses, stolen from Constantinople by the Venetians during the 4th Crusade, when they sacked the capital of the last vertige of the Roman Empire.

  1. There are so many delightful karma stories, too–Cindy Hyde-Smith, aka as a Scooby Doo villain, had blocked Scott Colom’s appointment as an appellate court justice, so now he is taking her seat in the Senate. Now she can focus on attending lynchings and cross-burnings while brewing up some ‘shine back in her rancid holler. ↩︎

To Turn You On

Thursday and not my last day in the office for the week; I have a meeting tomorrow morning and I am also going to put some hours in at the office once it is over. Sparky is going to the vet tomorrow afternoon, too–huzzah for trimming his nails–but I plan to spend the weekend getting caught up on overdue chores. I didn’t get much done yesterday, as I was tired from staying up too late watching the glorious election returns on Tuesday night, only to wake up to even better news yesterday morning. So, yesterday I spent the day joy-scrolling and replying to MAGA tears with one of those photos of a lovely MAGA couple in their Fuck Your Feelings shirts. Because yes, I am petty and yes, these people need to be fucking trolled off the Internet. That’s me–my drag name would be Petty Davis.

Apparently the “fuck your feelings” people are *checks notes* having a lot of feelings this morning. Who knew MAGA tears were even more delicious than liberal ones? Me, I did, I knew, it was me.

I was worn out yesterday–not just from staying up later than I should have, but from the emotional release. It’s been ten fucking years of existential dread, like an albatross around my neck, and I feel like a weight has been lifted…this feels like 2006, Obama’s election, and Biden’s win times 100. I am sure they are all frantically pointing fingers at each other and tossing around a lot of blame, particularly at the Heritage Foundation and the Federalist Society (sewer princess Meghan McCain is already backpedaling away from MAGA at light speed, for one example), and it may take awhile before the new obstructionist battle plan is in place for them all to parrot without thinking, so this brief respite has been marvelous–as is their complete meltdown. I always thought Fox and others of that ilk were craven manipulators and liars who didn’t believe anything they said; but in the last couple of days I’m starting to think some of them might have actually drank the Flavor-Ade1, too–to which I can only say good, I hope it’s excruciatingly painful for you.

No more pretending about the majority of Americans being MAGA. No more pretending these hateful and destructive policies either work or are popular. No more crowd size boasts.

Finally, the God-Emperor has no clothes.

And I am glad he is still alive. I want him to go on living, alone, lonely and hated and his ego destroyed, knowing he was a complete and utter failure at his entire life. But he got his wish: he will probably be one of the most famous and studied presidents in US History…just not the way he wanted.

Your grave will be a urinal, sir. I hope I live long enough to use it as such.

I don’t think I am going to get a lot done this week, honestly. While I do feel like I am finally breathing fresh air again, I am emotionally drained and exhausted–yet need to rest to be ready to get back to work on the next Louisiana election cycle–I believe we can kick Klandry out of the governor’s mansion, and I think we can ditch the bitch Attorney General as well. FAFO, Louisiana MAGA. And there are so many great games on Saturday, I have to break my routine and come to the office tomorrow, so that day is already messed up for me anyway. I did make some groceries on the way home last night, and have an errand or two on the way home tonight. I did make some progress on the disaster area that is the apartment, and while I am sure I’ll be too tired to do much of anything once I get home this evening, I am going to try to do some things. Sparky also has to go to the vet for his annual check-up and razor-blade trim, and of course it’s bed linen day. I think I am probably just going to make my own way this weekend, and re-center and recalibrate Sunday morning.

One last thing: COME ON MISSISSIPPI!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and isn’t it marvelous knowing we aren’t waking up to another new fresher hell every morning? Woo-hoo! And see you tomorrow morning!

  1. One of my biggest factual irritations is “drinking the Kool-Ade.” Jones was too cheap and used Flavor-Ade to save a couple of cents per package. I think that detail is both important and telling. ↩︎

While My Heart Is Still Beating

I left work early yesterday because I felt something coming on, and thought it best to come home to try to get ahead of it. Some OTC meds later and I felt much better; so am going to take some of those with me in case, and will mask when I have clients. After work I am going to vote, walking the two blocks to the International School to once again hopefully vote for change in Louisiana. I am cautiously optimistic and not getting my hopes up–this country’s voters have disappointed me too many times in the last twenty-six years to feel confident about anything. The media’s devotion to polling, which has been wrong more than it’s been right this century, really needs to be studied. Somehow everyone has also seemed to have forgotten Nate Silver’s bullshit, and his ass is being treated as reliable again for some reason I don’t know and will probably never understand. And since we have arrived on election day at long last, can we please have a respite from campaigns and money requests for a day or two? I won’t know how this all comes out until tomorrow morning, probably, and depending on what happens will have an impact on my day on Wednesday. I just hope it’s not another hellish J-6 situation…or worse. I will be voting tonight after I get home from work.

I feel much better this morning, thank you for your concern. I brought the DayQuil with me, and yes, I’ll be masking around my clients and co-workers; I don’t want to be Typhoid Greg. I feel fine–no coughing or crud or anything–but better safe than sorry. I’m glad I feel better, and when you have an autoimmune disorder it’s always a bit concerning when you don’t feel well. But I am thinking the heavy rain over the weekend sent my sinuses into overdrive and it all built up until yesterday morning and me feeling like shit. I still have a bit of a tickle in my throat, but I also think that’s from the post-nasal sinus thing.

Sparky doesn’t know the time changed, so he’s trying to wake me up at five every morning, the dear little thing. I don’t get up, of course, but he gets really insistent now when the alarm goes off, so snooze is currently a thing of the past, or at least until his body clock gets reset, and who knows when that will be? He also thought it was dinner time when I got home from work early, so of course, that was a bit of a hassle. He did cuddle in my lap for a while, but when the meds kicked in, he was gone. I did manage to do some chores when I was feeling better, and I made chicken noodle soup for dinner, which also made me feel much better. We started watching a Spanish language show on Netflix, Fate, which is about a cab driver whom a bullfighter decides is his good luck charm, and gets hired on to drive him–but it has to be the cab. It looks interesting, there are only six episodes, and they appear to all be about a half an hour per. Some other shows we like are coming back this week, too, and of course, I have those Friday the 13th the Series DVD’s. There is also a lot of good football this weekend: Missouri-Texas, LSU-Alabama, Ohio State-Oregon, Miami-Notre Dame, Mississippi-Georgia, South Carolina-A&M, and Florida-Oklahoma, so that should make for a tense but fun day. The Saints are also playing on Saturday. I have to come into the office Friday morning for a department meeting, and I’ll probably put a few more hours in while I am here before departing for the day and starting my weekend. I want and need to get back into writing more this week, after not really doing much the last few weeks other than editing, and I also need to find a place to send my story that I wrote for the Bouchercon anthology when I had the deadline incorrect.

A new newsletter went out yesterday; (in which I discuss Tananarive Due’s terrific Mazywood) click on the parenthetical if you’d like to read it.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning…I’m almost afraid to go to bed tonight because of what tomorrow may bring, but it will have to be faced at some point. Sigh. Till then.

A recent Playgirl Man of the Month, but won’t get banned by the censors. I plan to write about Playgirl someday for the newsletter.

Tough Guys

Work at home Friday seems to have rolled around again somehow; this has been a very weird week. I’ve felt off these last few days, like I’m fighting something mild off which could be worse. Paul hasn’t been well this week–he’s doing better now, I was mildly concerned Wednesday night, and had already decided if he wasn’t better when I got home last night I was taking him to the emergency room. Fortunately, he was indeed better–still not 100%, but much better–so Nurse Sparky is doing his job. Sparky has also been sleeping in the bed with us at night, which I love and have missed (Skittle and Scooter loved sleeping in the bed with us) but I suspect that’s not a behavior pattern shift and more that he could sense we both weren’t feeling the best. I slept very well last night, and feel rested and good this morning. I have a meeting this morning and work to do at home, and I need to pack and drive to Baton Rouge later on. I’ll probably leave here so I get there around three thirty. There’s an author party tonight, too, which I am intending to attend, so wish me luck on that score. A party where I don’t know many people? Ordinarily that is something I would skip, but…anxiety medication, and we’ll see how that works.

Remember the other day, when I mentioned how Kristopher had alerted me to the existence of all three seasons of Friday the 13th–The Series on DVD? Well, Constant Reader, I ordered them and they arrived Wednesday, and I am really looking forward to watching the entire thing in order. Seriously, y’all, it takes very little to make me happy. I also picked up a copy of Skip Hollandsworth latest collection of true crime reporting, She Kills. Hollandsworth is my favorite non-fiction crime writer (behind Sarah Weinman, of course) and is why I subscribe to Texas Monthly, because he writes for them. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe November should be Nonfiction November; it will help me get through some of the nonfiction collecting dust around here–and I can reread some old favorites, too, like The Real Lolita, In Cold Blood, and Blood and Money. I can also read some more horror this month too, before Noirmas Season1 rolls around again in December.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

I’m glad I feel so rested and good this morning. Yesterday was quite a day at the office. The clinic was slow but we were short-handed for walk-in testing, and so I had to pitch in and help our; we were also doing incentivized testing for young Black people, so I saw more people than usual yesterday and was very tired by the time I got home from work, so didn’t get anything much done last night other than bonding with Sparky, watching some news (I am optimistic about Tuesday, but am prepared for disappointment as well as shenanigans), and resting. I made soup for Paul, and we watched something but for the life of me, I cannot recall what it was this morning–that’s how tired I was last night. Obviously, there was no reading, editing, or writing done last night, and no cleaning. I do have to do something about the apartment before I leave today, which means not being lazy. So, I am going to do some quality assurance before and after my meeting, and probably will only put in a few hours for work today so I can clean up this mess.

I think the most disheartening thing I’ve seen lately is the “vote blue even if they are pro-Ice, approve of the mass deportations, thinks Biden was a failure, and thinks the trans community should be thrown away like trash” straightsplanations to people who, I don’t know, think people have the right to privacy, dignity and compassion? I’ve seen this all before–remember Sinema? Fetterman? Someone who will say shit like that in order to get elected but doesn’t mean it is someone we can trust? “Oh, a Democratic controlled Congress would never bring that to a vote? Remind me again how hard the Democrats fought for HIV/AIDS research in the 1980s again? I love how people will explain to other people why it’s okay for your rights to be put on the chopping block when it has no impact on them in the lest…Americans though, always have to have someone to punch down on, and it is absolutely hilarious that they are telling us, yet again, that this country’s founding principles are a fucking joke to them. It’s true–we learned this in the last three presidential elections. Funny how the people who were single issue voters in 2024 who got us into this fucking mess “because they can’t support a genocide” by electing the person who’d make it worse and are now supporting a different genocide and lecturing us on our civic duty. Excuse me, smug fuck-face with the unwashed ass, how fucking dare any of you lecture queer people? About anything?

Need I remind you of the fucking gay male genocide of the 80s and 90s?

Seriously, you’re lucky you don’t pull back a fucking nub.

Clearly I am feeling better because I can feel rage.

Never forget the right’s primary goal is to roll back everything for everybody who isn’t a conservative white man. Always expect the absolute worst from them–and frankly, the Left isn’t much better. I am predicting this now: if the Democrats do take back Congress and leave Schumer and Jeffries in charge, we might as well have not bothered to vote, because those two corporate shills are unworthy of leadership roles and are compromised. Period….which will mean a Republican sweep in 2028, more Heritage Foundation Supreme Court justices, and a Trump dynasty installed in the White House…do we need more Trumps in power? No, we don’t, and I hope I’m wrong, but we don’t need milquetoasts, we need a Ted Kennedy in the Senate and someone similar as Speaker.

Americans never learn.

And on that note, my work is calling to me, so I am going to bring this to a close and get back to it. Have a lovely Friday, and I’ll probably check in with you again in the morning before the panels, but it will also depend, and it may be short. We’ll see!

  1. This year, I intend to revisit Mildred Pierce, both book and movie. ↩︎

Follow My Heart

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I didn’t sleep well, so I feel a bit off this morning–I’ve kind of have felt weird all week, but last night I figured it out; I keep forgetting that my meds remove my mental anxiety, but my subconscious continues to send anxiety messaging to my body, which reacts…it’s very disconcerting, but not enough to stop taking them, ever. It’s nice not having my mind going into those horrible spirals anymore. Last night, I was very relaxed and comfortable in bed but never felt like I went into a deep sleep and kept waking up. But I don’t feel tired, just off a bit still–identifying why doesn’t solve the problem. I am hoping for a good day before my work at home day/drive to Baton Rouge for author party tomorrow. I plan on going to the party and probably just having a single glass of white wine (if that) and heading back to the hotel to read in bed–I’d love to finish Mazywood before the 31st, but it’s not a big deal if I don’t. See? That would have stressed me out before medication.

We finished watching Below, which really took a turn in the final two episodes I most definitely didn’t see coming. At the time, I was disappointed with the sharp turn it took, but the more I think about it the more I do appreciate it, even if there was kind of a tonal shift in the story. Josh Hartnett has aged beautifully, and he is good as the male lead, an ice harvester trying to scrape out a living for him and his kids on a rough little island off the Newfoundland coast. I was also pleased to see two familiar faces in Charlie Heaton (Stranger Things) and Rohan Campbell (The Hardy Boys). The episodes average about thirty minutes or so; so it can be taken in little bites or all at once in a binge pretty easily.

I also managed to get a newsletter out for Halloween Horror Month, in which I revisited the book version of The Amityville Horror (click on the blue if you want to read it), which actually offended my intelligence on the second read, approximately fifty years after the first. I don’t know what went before my own awareness of these things (I have started saying “I noticed this first” rather than stating something as a fact; because just because I didn’t experience, or was aware of, something doesn’t mean that that it was new when I discovered it for the first time.) I did notice, because my interest was intrigued, by things that cannot be explained, and that seemed to be very prevalent in my second decade. I did always love Ripley’s Believe It or Not on the comics page, and used to buy the book collections…which naturally led me to curiosity about things like Atlantis (whether it was the first time I’d heard of it or not, Atlantis the Lost Continent on the afternoon movie is a film I never forgot), the Bermuda Triangle, UFOs, Area 51–all those marvelous things that popped up into the culture during the 1970s, were all things I explored as a teenager. (It was also the decade that saw a horror revival with Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist and The Other.)

I also spend some time yesterday working on a newsletter essay about the trap of masculinity and rigid definitions of this; I’ve always felt that, since I am a man, anything I do is therefore masculine by definition. Maybe not in the way society likes to define masculinity, at any rate, but who made those rules, why are they so restrictive, and why does raising a son seem to mean breaking his spirit and turning him into an emotionally stunted, distant person? I often wonder–and I don’t have the time to investigate–I can’t research everything I think is interesting, after all–if men are performing masculinity for approval (which means you ain’t no alpha, bitch boi) rather than actually feeling it…it could explain a lot about the so-called “masculinity crisis.” I also wonder if an infant with no socializing as of yet will actually be drawn to toys and colors that are traditionally gendered, rigidly. (No straight man would be caught wearing pink, at least not until the 80s, without suspicion, is another example of this idiocy. (One of the reasons I want to revisit Larry McMurtry’s The Last Picture Show is because a lot of the boys’ behavior is just that, a performance, especially from Sonny. There’s also some queer content in the book which especially needs revisiting (remember, McMurtry co-wrote the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain).

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I will chat with you again tomorrow morning once Sparky gets me out of bed. Till then!

The Sipsey River bottoms on the old family farm in Alabama. It was high because there had been a lot of rain.

To Have and Not to Hold

Friday work at home day blog and here I am in the Lost Apartment, sipping coffee in between the windows. Sparky’s sleeping in a puddle at my feet and I am very excited for the day and the weekend. There are some excellent games to watch on Saturday (GEAUX TIGERS!), and of course, tonight there’s a new episode of Traitors: New Blood, which I can’t wait to see. After bingeing so many seasons, it really is torturous having to wait a week for a new episode. Heavy sigh, but that’s okay, really. Bingeing has really changed how I watch television, hasn’t it? We had started the new season of The Gentleman on Netflix last week, but despite the appeal of one Theo James (Christ, there should be a law against being that pretty), I didn’t get into the season 2 premiere, and haven’t exactly been itching to get back to it for some reason. I was thinking I might go back and watch the earlier seasons of The White Lotus so I’m not mindlessly scrolling through Youtube videos. It’s not only addictive, but it’s time consuming.

I worked more diligently on the short story last night, and almost have my new first draft finished (even though I am using the same title, the same story but with a different perspective, which I think is working). I am pretty pleased with it; it’s a very strong draft I should be able to get finished later today. It’s amazing how much I enjoy writing, but my process has changed–as I have changed–and it takes me longer to write than it used to. I used to be able to average about three thousand1 per writing day when working on a book; short stories are a different animal, but I don’t remember it taking me this long to complete a first draft of a short story; it’s a do-over of one I finished years ago but couldn’t place anywhere, so I tore it all apart and put it back together completely differently. I personally think it works better now, but I won’t be surprised if the anthology I am writing it for doesn’t accept it. Not that it isn’t good, but it’s not the kind of crime story people usually are looking for when compiling an anthology of them.

When Paul got home last night, we finished watching a documentary called A Killer Story, which is wild; true crime documentaries are absolutely terrifying to watch, especially when you see how easily a prosecutor can convict someone entirely on a theory with little to no evidence to corroborate their theory of the crime. Documentaries, though, can easily be manipulated to convince the viewer of their point of view, something I’ve noticed before. (One of Americans’ biggest fears is wrongful imprisonment, along with not being believed; being wrongly accused of murder and put on trial is definitely terrifying.)

I slept pretty well last night, even if Sparky got me up before seven. I’m a bit physically tired this morning–the Achilles tendons again–but I know once I get cleaned up I’ll feel more recharged. I have a meeting this morning, after which I am going to go run some errands. It being 9/25, the Krewe of Dolly is having a second line in the Quarter today for our departed Queen, Dolly Parton. If I could walk that far, I might have gone down to participate; it’s the kind of fun thing New Orleans loves to do at the drop of a hat. I also saw last night that Jamie Davis has come within four points of beating Julia Letlow, the Harkonnen and janky governor endorsed corrupt piece of MAGA shit, and Louisiana is getting fed up with all of this bullshit. Turnout will be key in Louisiana; if the Bill Cassidy supporters who are still pissed over the MAGA turn on him don’t vote, or vote for Davis…we could have our first Democratic senator from Louisiana in over twelve years. The data centers in north Louisiana and the spaceport on the coast and all the NDA’s everyone involved signed (Letlow owns stock in both companies) so the sweetheart deals Janky Jeff gave them will never be exposed has even Louisiana voters, notoriously blasé about political corruption, aren’t happy about how blatant this all is…it’s so blatant it’s insulting. And the way Janky Jeff keeps fucking with the LSU athletic department isn’t good, either.

I am cautiously optimistic about the midterms, but know there’s going to be some fuckery involved.

And on that note, I am going to have some breakfast and take a shower before starting my work day. I’ll run errands this morning after our meeting, and then come home from that to sit in my chair and go over paperwork this afternoon. The coffee is starting to kick in, too. So, on that note, tis off to mine spice with me, and will return again tomorrow morning. Have the loveliest of Fridays, Constant Reader!

Ah, the beauty of youth. But they just look like pretty children to me.
  1. On the other hand, last night I managed over two thousand words, which wasn’t bad.
    ↩︎

Sky Fits Heaven

Thursday last day in the office for the week blog. Yesterday wasn’t unpleasant; I paid the bills, as one does once one has the funds, and it was very quiet around the office yesterday, which was odd. I didn’t feel terribly tired at any point during the day, which is always a pleasant surprise. October and Spooky Season are just around the corner, and I think I will go ahead and enjoy my annual October Halloween Horror Month. I generally reread The Haunting of Hill House and a classic Stephen King every October, but my reading focus just hasn’t been there for a while. I think it might be because I am out of practice with both writing and reading, and every time I start reading something I think oh I should be writing and that brings me to a crashing halt, every time. My copy of the new Tananarive Due should be arriving today or tomorrow; so I am definitely going to read that for Horror Month. I need to look through my horror TBR pile, and maybe I should give Peter Straub’s Shadowland another try. (I started it when it had just been released in mass market paperback, and for some reason it didn’t click with me; maybe I can listen to it in the car on my drive north next year, take the physical copy with to keep reading if I don’t finish it in the car…should see how long it is, shouldn’t I?)

I was a bit tired after getting home from running errands last evening–my headphones arrived; more on that later–and putting away the paltry and meager bags of groceries I’d made for sixty dollar, heavy sigh, and things were on sale–and so I made a Sparky bed out of my lap while I caught up on the news and watched some videos bashing Ed Sheeran (which will, at some point, I imagine, get old) before Paul got home late, and we hung out for a bit before I went up to bed. I slept well, too–woke up at four rather than three thirty this morning, but was able to get back to sleep without a problem. I feel alert and awake and ready to go, which is quite unusual for Thursday morning. I’ve even had breakfast already and feel pretty good. Today is the busiest day in the clinic for the week, and so I imagine I’ll be a bit worn down when I get home tonight. I am going to head uptown to get the mail, so I won’t, hopefully, have to get in the car this weekend. Huzzah for the convenience of deliveries!

I did work on my short story some yesterday–not as much as I would have preferred, but my mind was buggy and I was tired, so I really just started revising what I had already written, which was more than a little bit on the messy side. I am trying to write more fiction in the present tense, which seems to be more common/popular these days, and my sweet spot is past tense/first person…so trying things differently, I think, is kind of important to my continued development as a writer. Anyway, I noticed the prose sometimes slipped from present to past tense, and sometimes even from first person to third. Honestly, my first drafts are so fucking dreadful….which is why nobody ever sees my first drafts.

It’s in the seventies this morning, which will have to do for the transition to fall. They’re saying we’ll get colder weather and a lot of rain next week, which is fine.

And on that note, I should get going on my day. I’ll be here again tomorrow morning, from my workspace at home, and I hope to see you then, Constant Reader.

Frozen

Wednesday Pay the Bills Day has rolled around again somehow, and here we are. I woke up from a very deep sleep around three thirty this morning, and napped/dozed until the shattering shriek of the alarm pierced through the darkness, impacting my ear drums with such a brutal assault that I had no choice but to hit snooze…followed by turning the alarm off and getting up before that horrendous noise erupted again. I feel pretty good this morning. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home after work and errands; I sat with His Majesty sleeping in my lap for a while as I caught up on the news (that UN Speech–so aspirational and inspirational. Cut to media: “He’s finally sounding presidential.1” Eye roll to infinity) before getting up to clean up the kitchen. I unloaded the dishwasher and ran another load overnight, and cleaned off the counters, took out the trash and recycling, too. If I can keep up with the dishes and stuff all week, I don’t have to do that on the weekend and thus can get more of this long overdue deep clean of the house done. There are some awesome games this weekend, too, capped off with Texas A&M coming to Death Valley for a night game.

The Saints play at home this Sunday in the afternoon, as well, so I can get things done in the morning and early afternoon and then settle into my chair for the game. And while I have some work to do on work-at-home Friday as well, it’s just paperwork.

I feel pretty good this morning, and like I have finally managed to adjust to getting up at six. I am so not a morning person, and for most of my life succeeded in not having a 9-to-5 job–I’d rather sleep and get up when I am done sleeping and work in the afternoons and evenings. Then again, whenever I had an early morning job in the past, it would eventually get to the point where I’d look ahead and just see this kind of nightmare existence stretching on and on forever. Maybe I don’t do that anymore because an end is in sight? Granted, that’s dependent on being able to retire…which, by how things are going in this country, may not be possible.

I realized yesterday, when I saw that the “Clavicular” creature (Braden Peters, because of course his name is Braden) was arrested for allegedly drugging and raping a minor, that my essay series (which I am way behind on) for the newsletter about my not being a “typical male” and my personal struggles with the straitjacket of heterosexual values was primarily because I can’t really write about masculinity and my outsider’s view of it without defining those qualities that defined it when I was growing up–but reading this arrest news reminded me that I am not the only man who’s wrestled with masculinity tropes. Headlines have been screaming at us for years now about the “crisis” for straight men who are bewildered at how to be a man in this modern age…and wind up turning to idiots in the “manosphere”, or people like this idiot (or the Tate brothers) selling them a bundle of lies and bullshit about what “women really want” and so on, making men the victim in a society that continues to center them. (If only we could all be as oppressed as the straight white man in the US, amirite?) And there it was–how interesting that the issues a gay guy had with masculine tropes is now a straight man’s problem.

Years ago, Paul and I watched a horrible gay dating reality show called Boy Meets Boy, and something I noticed in that show–which had a terrible surprise twist that makes me think I should somehow rewatch and write about it again. Anyway, something I noticed about James–which I was noticing on other matchmaking shows as well–was he always talked about who the perfect man for him would be. That’s fine–we all have that kind of image in our heads when we’re single, don’t we–but…the premise is “I’m perfect and this is who he needs to be”, when the entire time I’m listening to him and watching and thinking, what do YOU have to offer? (My dream was a husband who liked to laugh, read, and was smart. My dream came true.) I mean, being chosen by him was how you won the show, but at the same time it was an awful lot of I and not a lot of we, which made me think he’d never find someone.

But this reminds me very much of the male loneliness epidemic and all these “crises” people are monetizing by telling young men how to be men…rather than doing the actual work they need to do in order to be attractive to a woman as a life mate. Women don’t care about muscles all that much; the truth is, the bar is set so low for most men that it staggers the mind that they can’t meet it, you know? Flowers on special dates, the occasional candy, and just listening to them and treating them like an actual living, breathing human being actually goes a very long fucking way.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, and I will see you again tomorrow morning bright and early. See ya then!

  1. I am being facetious here, but how many times have we heard some stupid pundit say something like this in the past? ↩︎

Skin

Well, we survived Monday, didn’t we? It wasn’t even iffy this time. I woke up before my alarm yesterday morning, only hit snooze once, and then got up, wide awake and feeling rested (Sunday I was still feeling a bit worn out, not sure why), but I felt very good all day yesterday. I ran a couple of errands after work on my way home, which was nice. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday so I was able to get caught up on some things around the office, and somehow tomorrow we get paid again? It seems like we did just get paid, you know. And it’s almost October, and we’re well on our way into football season. I feel pretty good this morning, now that I’ve got some coffee and my breakfast sandwich into my system and my body is going oh yes, we like how this feels. I also ran some errands on my way home, but Sparky was very needy when I got home. He didn’t even want to be fed until I’d picked him up and let him wrap around my neck while headbutting me and purring. After he ate, he wanted my lap (he’s so needy after he’s not been home alone all day for a few days) and so I thought let me catch up on the news but once he was asleep in a puddle in my lap, I was done for the evening. When Paul got home we caught up on Lanterns–which is really phenomenal and may be the best super-hero TV show of all time–and then we started a Spanish language show, Oasis, which is the same kind of show as Elite was, only with a summer spa/resort in the place of the school. I guess it’s more The White Lotus?

Tonight I have to swing uptown to get the mail, and may stop to get some things on the way home; we need some bananas (they get so overripened so quickly these days) and maybe some ice cream as a treat? We’ve not had anything like that in a while–we’re consciously trying to be more healthy, food-wise–so maybe, maybe not. I’ll see how I feel once I get in the car and to the store. The weather is still scorching during the day, topping out around 100 or thereabouts, but it’s dropping into the seventies at night. This is what passes for fall here in New Orleans, or football weather, at any rate. I know next month is when we’ll experience the big drop, down into the seventies/low eighties during the day but dipping into the sixties overnight, and sometimes colder. I doubt we’ll get snow this winter, when it finally comes, but you never know anymore, do you?

I see that Jaxson Dart got injured last night1, the day after Aaron Rodgers did. Shame that karma came for you both; I wonder whatever for? What could either quarterback have done that would…oh, who cares. Fuck them both. I don’t waste empathy on garbage.

I am going to try to be productive today, since I failed so miserably last night. I need to empty the dishwasher and reload it, pick up things in the kitchen, take out the trash, and straighten the rugs. I made lunch for the rest of the week this morning, so that’s taken care of for now. Outside of the bananas, I don’t think we really need anything else….maybe I should just stop at the grocery in the CBD on my way home from work tomorrow? I don’t know. Decisions, decisions, right?

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

The Krewe of Dolly is anchoring the second-line on 9-25.
  1. Can a Congressional investigation be far behind? ↩︎

The Power of Goodbye

Monday morning and a return with me to the spice mines. Sparky again let me sleep late yesterday, which was nice, and I didn’t feel bone tired when I got up, either; Saturday was a bit hit or miss for the day, frankly. But I did get up, worked on a newsletter as well as cleaning up computer files (and finishing some unfinished chores from Saturday) before turning on the Saints game at noon and sitting in my easy chair with my laptop and an early lunch snack of mozzarella salad, which I love. Paul came down to watch and nap with Sparky during the game, so we were all in the living room like the sweet little family we are, and when I am the most content. That literally is my happy place.

In one of those weird moments, the other night (Friday, to be exact) we were running around doing our errands and one of my favorite songs, Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain,” came up on the mix, and as I was humming along with the lyrics one in particular stood out to me. The thought process went something like this: “Running through the shadows, chain chain chain, we go together, running through the shadows…hmmm, running through the shadows is a great title, wait didn’t I have a story in an anthology called that yes I think I did and I think my story was called “The Rosary of Broken Promises” and the main character was the Oracle of Orange Street, my psychic I wanted to write a book about”–it was something like that. Anyway, imagine my delight and surprise to find an email about that anthology in my inbox Saturday morning. (I don’t, however, read emails on the weekend; I only delete them.) I’ll read it later on, when I am more functional and awake.

The Saints did win, which was a lovely way for the day to go, and then we watched the first two episodes of The Traitors: New Blood, which is quite fun, and retired to bed relatively early to get a jump on the morning today, which I did. I only hit snooze the once, and got up, feeling rested and relaxed this morning over my coffee and a slice of coffee cake. We finished Reacher off over the weekend, and tonight, it’s back to Lanterns. I also actually wrote for a while yesterday–working on a short story that is due soon, clocking in at about fourteen hundred words, which was nice and felt good. I also finished paying the bills this weekend, and we get paid again on Wednesday this week. I also sent out my latest newsletter, about The Stepford Wives. I’m not sure what the next one will be about, and the goal is to get it out on Wednesday or Thursday, but we’ll have to see how that goes, won’t we? I have a few that are close to completion; we’ll have to see how it all goes, won’t we, though? The kitchen is a bit of a mess this morning, alas, so after running an errand or two on the way home, I am going to have to pick up around here a bit before going to the easy chair for some Sparky time.

LSU is still ranked in the Top Ten this week, and I am very pleased with how zen I am about the loss on Saturday night. I’m even happy for the Mississippi fans1; they haven’t had much for a very long time, so more power to them and I wish them well on the season. We still don’t know how good either team is, but they are about equal, really. Texas A&M will be fired up after losing to Kentucky (!!!) this past weekend, but…it’s at LSU, so it will be loud and raucous in the stadium. I didn’t read any write-ups, local or national, on the game this past weekend because I don’t need to know anything more than the result. I like this new policy of “it’s just a game” and just enjoying it for what it is–something I enjoy watching–without all the emotional ups and downs and swings from watching. That actually isn’t fun, and neither are the “trash talk” bullshit, either. Whether LSU wins or not doesn’t change or affect anything in my life unless I allow it to–and while a lot of people seem to enjoy that aspect, I don’t and never have.

And unless you’re on the field and in uniform, there’s no “we” or “us” when you’re nothing more than a fan–even less so if you’re not an alum. As someone who is not an alum of LSU (I just live here), I try to be careful in never including myself as part of LSU as anything other than a local fan with opinions, usually based on what I’ve watched on the field. Yes, I want LSU to do well, but if they don’t–the sun will still rise in the morning and my alarm will continue to go off at six every day.

Ed Sheeran has only made things worse after performing Saturday night in Philadelphia? I’ve stopped paying attention because at this point he’s managed to make everything somehow about him and his poor choices; it has always been my experience that if you have to cry and tell everyone you’re not a bad person…well, you might be a bad person. Your mistake was caving into that Kraft creature. It doesn’t seem like you’re even aware of what you did wrong….and a little bit of advice? Maybe stop centering yourself in everything? No one was asking you to speak about Palestine, you know; they were mad because you caved to a billionaire’s demands instead of standing on principle. That was your mistake, and that’s the one you need to acknowledge–you are complicit in that. It’s not a good look, Gingerdoodle. That’s why everyone on both sides is mad at you–and you need to save your anger and reproaches for Pink–she started this whole mess.

Again, don’t get into parasocial relationships with celebrities. They will always disappoint you because you actually don’t know them at all.

Sigh.

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

  1. It also doesn’t hurt to remember that when Nick Saban came back to college football at Alabama, that we beat them his first year there. ↩︎