Tag: Sparky

Sex as a Weapon

And so the nation turns 250 years old today.

Yes, it’s today: the 250th anniversary of the first signatures on the Declaration of Independence after the states’ delegates ratified it–the birth of our freedom from the British Empire’s Parliament and its King–and while the country as United States was not born until the ratification of the Constitution in 1787 and the first elected officials taking office in 1789, we consider this the birthdate of our nation. We don’t even recognize Constitution Day, which is the true national founding document. As an inquisitive minded child, I wondered about this a lot when I was a child…but it’s Independence Day, not Founders’ Day, I guess. It’s kind of sad how this, an actual landmark anniversary, has turned into such a national embarrassment, but that’s what you get when you hire someone whose only success is hosting a rigged reality show. I mean, he bankrupted a casino. Multiple times. Ah, well.

Yesterday was kind of lovely. I was up early, and got started on chores. Paul had appointments today, so Sparky and I kind of hung out and watched some news (hence the hilarity of the failed State Fair, Fox News’ pretense that everything was going just fine with massive crowds of people, but the failure of the fair has stopped all the algae talk at any rate). Paul went to Please U to get us shrimp po-boys for lunch (I’ve not had one in almost ten years, I think), and they were marvelous. I had some things delivered, and we binged a Kaley Cuoco thriller series, Vanished, which was kind of fun1. Her post Big Bang Theory career has been interesting, hasn’t it? We also started watching The Big Conn, about a criminal conspiracy to defraud Social Security (to the tune of over half a billion dollars), and the people that SSA chose to punish were the recipients2, not the people who actually actively pursued the fraud–the doctor, lawyer and judge who were in cahoots with each other–which is about par for the course in this country: punish the poor instead of the real criminals. And of course, there were two women in the system flagging it all, documenting everything and trying to get someone to pay attention to them–and they wound up punished more than the actual criminals (but the last episode must be about the trial of the one who didn’t take a plea). I’m trying to decide if I need to have anything delivered today, too. I didn’t read, but I brainstormed a short story that’s been sitting in my head for a couple of years and think it might be a good story, if and when I finish it.

I’m up early this morning–Sparky was hungry and wasn’t about to let me sleep late, the sweet little boy. I feel good this morning, too, like yesterday as a day of rest was a very smart decision. I regret not reading yesterday, but I can remedy that this morning, too. I can also get some chores and picking up done, if I stay focused and on top of everything. I did do all the bed linen yesterday, so the bedding felt comfortable and clean and warm last night when I slid beneath the pile of blankets. Sigh. I do love that feeling, you know. I also want to send out a holiday newsletter (more of a newsletter about the holiday) today, which would mean probably writing it this morning, too. I also need to do some filing and organizing, too–like always. But all I need to do is put my head down and stay focused and everything will fall into place. I’m glad I’m up early this morning so I can get a leg up on things–but the temptation to simply collapse into my easy chair is very strong this morning.

I can always justify doing nothing by rationalizing everyone else gets the holiday off, don’t they?

Well, yes, of course, they do–but they also don’t have a writing career on top of their day jobs, do they?

Sigh. I can always spot the flaw in every rationalization I make.

Ah, there’s the caffeine, kicking in at long last. Huzzah!

As I have mentioned before, one of my favorite things lately has been World Cup tourists discovering the abundance we take for granted and enjoying our freedom of choice–as well as the natural beauty and splendor of the continent. We do take our country for granted, don’t we? Sometimes we need an outside opinion of how the US appears to outsiders to remember and appreciate what we have here. That doesn’t mean we don’t have serious problems as a country and culture and society that need to be worked on and overcome so we can finally achieve the ideals the nation was founded upon–but we definitely need to stop looking back and thinking the past was better than the present. It’s also funny how conservatives–the original xenophobes–use those posts from visitors to demean and diminish the Left when we weren’t the ones shouting to the world that America isn’t great anymore.

And on that cheery note, I am going to get some breakfast before I go read for a bit. Have a lovely holiday Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Friendly reminder: it’s against the Flag Code to wear the American flag as clothing. There’s no rule against it being used as a prop.
  1. The big twist at the end was absolutely perfect. ↩︎
  2. For all the whining about Medicaid and Medicare fraud, the truth is the ones committing said fraud are doctors, hospitals, and pharmacies, not the patient. But we only talk about the patient. Isn’t that right, Senator Rick Scott of Florida? ↩︎

I Want Out

I slept in a bit this morning because I don’t have to leave until this afternoon for Alabama. It’s a short trip; I’ll drive home on Saturday morning, hopefully feeling refreshed and reinvigorated and inspired. Spending time in the home place always inspires me somehow, makes me itch to get back to my keyboard or scribble in my journal. I’m going to listen to Margot Douaihy’s Blessed Water in the car as a reread so I’ll be primed for the third Sister Holiday novel. I am also taking Lev Rosen’s Rough Pages to read before bed both nights.

This has been an interesting week. I wasn’t terribly tired much after work, and I really didn’t have any trouble getting up all week, either–other than not wanting to get out of the bed’s warmth and comfort–but I even got up before the alarm all three days I had to get up. I stayed in bed longer this morning, but not to sleep–Sparky was being a sweet little purring cuddlebug, and who wants to leave that? Not I, said the deliriously happy cat dad. Sparky purrs a lot more than we think he does, because his purr motor is quiet; you can only hear it if he is sitting on you, or you can feel him purring when you pet/snuggle him. He really is a sweetheart, and very loving. He’s not fully a lap cat, like Scooter was. Sparky is more like Skittle, our first cat. Loving and sweet, but only on his terms.

I ran errands after work yesterday on my way home, picking up the mail and making groceries, but not much (it was still insanely expensive), came home and chilled out for a bit with Sparky while I caught up on the news. Paul came home and we watched more Citadel, which is very interesting and complicated and moves very fast, before retiring to bed for the evening. I feel pretty good this morning, too, rested and relaxed and centered, and it feels terrific, you know? I think I am finally recovered from everything, and I’d forgotten that it was possible to feel this good ever again.

It doesn’t help when medical professionals smile awkwardly and say, you’re just getting older and every time I heard that, all I could think was if this is how I’m going to feel for the rest of my life, I don’t want this.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. Although it hit me yesterday, as I spoke with a co-worker about my retirement plans, that I am casually talking about turning SEVENTY in a little over five years. It was kind of unsettling (freaks me out that Dad’s in his eighties, really) for a moment, but then I was like and so fucking what? Sure, it’s daunting; I don’t know what sixty-four is supposed to feel like, but now that I am back to (or almost at) 100% again, it actually doesn’t feel that bad. I don’t feel like I’ve wasted time–although I have, months if not years’ worth of wasted time–because I’ve also learned to know the rhythms of my body and my mind over the years, and when I do waste time it’s because of being tired in some way, either mental, emotional, or physical, and the down time is necessary for recharging.

Making peace with myself, and finally finding my own peace of mind, was actually kind of worth this entire miserable decade so far, actually. As awful as it was to lose Mom, I may not have known I had generalized anxiety disorder and sought help for it had she not passed. (I’d take the anxiety back though, for her to still be with Dad.)

So, some Kpop artist (Mark Lee) whom I’d never heard of decided to wear a Confederate flag shirt–definitely trying to break into the white American racist market, and when all hell broke loose, his record company tried to run some cover claiming it was a “vintage” shirt and no one involved with the photo shoot “knew”? Oh, fuck right off. That’ll play with the racists who would see it as a symbolic dog whistle–“hey, look, Cletus, I know he’s ASIAN but he hates the n-words too!” I don’t know if they actually knew how many flies were buzzing around this horseshit they dropped, but their “apology” was actually he’s just a cute young dumb boy, he didn’t know any better! He’s not from the US! He’s Canadian, he sure as fuck has seen that flag and knew exactly what it meant. It was a deliberate choice, and no one is going to convince me to infantilize a twenty-six year old man. Fuck him, fuck his record company, fuck his fans, and fuck anyone who supports the racist piece of shit. And if any of those excuses are true? Then he’s too fucking stupid to live a public life and deserves everything coming to him still.

Don’t even get me started on so-called “girl dad” Jimmy Fallon for platforming a rapist. He is also trash, and always has been, and he is worse than Jay Leno, which I didn’t think possible.

As for the San Francisco Bitchboys, they continue to pour gasoline on the flames. Hope you don’t need a new taxpayer funded stadium anytime soon! I always have tried to root for the San Francisco major league teams because it’s our community’s capital, but no more. I will buy a black candle, carve GIANTS into it, and light it every baseball season–just doing my small part to curse their future. May their streak of no World Series wins last as long as the Cubs’ streak. I hate to break it to you bitches, but the queers never forgive or forget. So fucking disgusting, and even more disgusting is their fucking cowardice and backtracking and whining about being called bigots. Well the truth fucking hurts, and you know, adultery made the top ten. Were they all virgins when they married? Have they been faithful to wives? If you want to talk sin, bitches, let’s fucking talk sin. How about taking the Lord’s name in vain? (Also a top ten sin.) What did Jesus say about performative faith? You’re not only shitty people but you are shitty Christians. Do you go to church every Sunday, despite games? Do you find churches when you’re on the road? Don’t fucking stand up there and judge sin unless you want your own counted. Judgment is God’s and God’s alone, you heretical blasphemers. Your faith is weak and performative, and I don’t have to accept or respect your hypocrisy. Have fun doing the backstroke when you get to hell, pigs, and I hope your careers all circle the toilet, and may the team always be more mediocre than it is now.

You’re losing because you have issues in your lockerroom, and these fucks are doing the dividing. Enjoy your new status as the MAGA Giants…which were abominations in your precious Bible, the children of angels mating with human women, the accursed nephilim. But then, I doubt any of these slack-jawed inbreds have read the Bible because it’s not written for children.

And on that note, I am really looking forward for this brief interlude this weekend. And on that note, I should probably start getting my shit together to head out today. I doubt I’ll be back here until Sunday, sorry! Til then!

I will never understand why some people don’t find gingers attractive. Look at this wrestler!

Looking for a Stranger

Today’s title sounds like one of my old erotica stories from back in the day, and I am really disappointed that I never used it (makes note in journal).1 Yesterday was pleasant, overall. I was pretty busy at the office during the day, but was able to come straight home from work, which was lovely. I really don’t want to come home to a messy house on Saturday, but we’ll see how motivated I am when I get home tonight. I am leaving tomorrow morning (when I feel like it), and so I think I’ll wait to pack until then, too. I am only going to be gone two nights, so I don’t need to take everything under the sun with me, because I never end up being able to do much of anything other than read before going to sleep at night. I think I’ll just pack the iPad and the book I am reading, and we’ll see how it all goes. I doubt that I’ll be back here until Saturday night or Sunday morning; stranger things, however, have been known to happen, you know. Although I am not sure now if I’m going. A relative (one of his upteen cousins) passed and the funeral was Monday; Dad drove down for that and apparently drove back to Kentucky yesterday. It seems a bit weird for him to do that only to drive seven hours back, so he probably already went to Mom’s grave and I will have a four-day at home unexpected staycation. See the difference not having anxiety any more makes? I would be stressed and tense, wondering about tomorrow and risking obsessively texting. So, either I drive up there and see Dad in Alabama, or I stay here in New Orleans with a glorious four day weekend, and I have to confess, the more I think about it and the more coffee I swill down this morning, the more I like the idea of being home. I could get some rest and get thoroughly caught up on everything and could maybe even do a deep clean on the house. So, either option is roses. I also am not sure how busy we are today, but I do know that I’m in the clinic by myself.

I was a bit tired when I got home from work yesterday and didn’t do a whole hell of a lot. I did scribble in my journal some, but we started watching the new season of House of the Dragon, which…continues to be boring and slow? I mean, a lot happened, but at the same time, it didn’t seem like anything was happening. I am also not vested in any of the characters, and don’t care who ends up on the Iron Throne, and the only characters I feel anything for? That feeling is loathing. I guess we’re hate watching for the dragons and the production values? It is visually stunning, though. The show just feels very drawn out for some reason. I don’t know why we aren’t more engaged, and it does feel like we’re watching because we watched Game of Thrones and are used to it? (It was an amazing show until it went completely off the rails.) Even the battles are kind of dull, and considering how epic the ones in Game of Thrones were…

Apparently eleven people in Louisiana have been hospitalized for drinking raw milk. How can we convince these people that if they take arsenic or strychnine, they’d really own the libs? (Arsenic, after all, is very good for your skin in small doses; Victorian women used to take it for that purpose…so it wouldn’t be a hard sell to anyone with Mar-a-Lago face, would it? Now, I will say I’ve had raw milk before–family of farmers, remember? And I did like it–but not so much that I would risk getting hospitalized for it. It was very rich and thick and creamy–but nowadays most people think whole milk is too thick…I grew up drinking whole milk and switching to skimmed was like going from heavy cream to milk-flavored water–but now I even find whole milk unappetizing.

I have heard from Dad; the trip is still on. He is definitely driving back down tomorrow, but I won’t have to leave until the afternoon so I can get some stuff done around the house and I don’t have to get up early. It should be a nice day for a drive, too. I’ll stop on the way up to eat, and I’ll take my time as there is no rush; the drives all the way to Kentucky are so long they do require an early departure time or else I’ll get there so late I’ll be sleepy in the car–which I do get anyway because twelve hours is a lot, but I think the last time I drove to Kentucky it didn’t bother me at all? But the later I get there the sleepier I am, and of course if I take any kind of stimulant–coffee, energy drink, etc.–I won’t sleep at all that night.

And I may finally be used to my schedule. FINALLY, right? I woke up this morning again before the alarm, and got to cuddle with Sparky for a bit before getting up. I kind of just took my time this morning getting ready to go with no semblance of urgency; which was also very nice. I love this lack of anxiety! Hurray for better living through chemistry!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning before I head north!

A lot of people like Tucks because it’s literally all toilet humor, but I am no longer in junior high so I usually skip it.
  1. It occurs to me that I could actually republish old short stories on my newsletter. Hmmm. Something to ponder for sure. ↩︎

Silent Partner

Tuesday and we made it through Monday, did we not? Huzzah!

Today’s weather is ungodly hot; we’re still in a heat advisory and the temperature today will feel like 106. It was ninety-nine degrees outside yesterday when I left work. It actually didn’t feel that bad–thank the Lord for air conditioning; again, I don’t know how anyone could have lived here before electricity–and I don’t think I’m yet getting used to it or anything, since it hasn’t been this hot since last summer. Last night we also had a weird situation with our power–there was a surge or something, and after it happened, the lights were dim, the washing machine couldn’t run, and more crucially, the air conditioning wasn’t coming on, either, and it was getting warm in here when I went to bed. The power went off about ten thirty and stayed off for a minute or so, before the power came roaring back on. Right now, the load of laundry that was delayed overnight is running, the lights are very bright, and it’s the proper summer indoor temperature. This will be one of those summers, I think, where the air can’t keep up with the heat.

I finally finished and posted my newsletter about how one of my many favorite juvenile series, featuring Ken Holt, was pretty homoerotic. Just click anywhere on the blue and it’ll take you right there. Hope you click, and hope you enjoy, and maybe even subscribe? It is absolutely one hundred percent free. It also lightly touched on something that I’ve been thinking about since watching Half Man; it’s also entirely possible something resonated in me while watching that I may have projected onto the show–which is part of the reason I’ve not written about it yet, because I am still digesting everything from watching. I think I am going to have to rewatch some of it so I can write about it more clearly and not so much from memory. And who knows? I may never write about it if I can never think about it more cohesively, and structurally.

I wasn’t tired when I got home from work, and loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen some. I picked up the mail and made some groceries on the way home, too; it was strange how little traffic there was yesterday, both in the morning and after work. I love when school is out for summer. It’s wild what an impact that has on city traffic–not that our traffic is really worth complaining about, because it’s rarely stop-and-go, other than the ramp from I-10 West to 90–and even that wasn’t too bad yesterday–the ramp to the river bridge wasn’t backed up as far as it usually is and the right lane–which I take to head uptown on Claiborne–was empty except for the assholes who don’t think they should wait like everyone else and jumps the line of cars. Paul wasn’t feeling well–he hasn’t these last couple of days–but the weather has been particularly nasty during that same time period. The humidity is back, of course, and the air conditioning felt wonderful this morning when I got up. I couldn’t find my wallet (left it in the car like an idiot) which also had me a bit off-balance, but I did manage to sleep very well, woke up before the alarm (a good thing, because I had reset the clock and fucked up am v. pm), and of course, Sparky was his usual loving “I’m hungry” self this morning. He’s such a spoiled little fella.

I am thinking that the “darling” I wrote on the book this weekend may actually fit into the story, after all. I am going to go ahead and complete it, I think, and we’ll see where it goes from there. I have some ideas, too, and I am very pleased with myself and the book, too. While it may be what I consider a more commercial idea than what I usually write, that doesn’t influence what I want to write and what I want to do, which is probably not the smartest way to be an author, I suppose. I’ve also kind of accepted, going into it, that I was never going to have any huge success and I was fine with that, honestly; had I wanted to make big money as a writer I wouldn’t be writing about queer life. It was not the right choice for that, really, nor have I ever been arrogant enough to think that I would be the exception. So, I’ll just go on doing what I am doing, stumbling through a long publishing career which has to be respected for the longevity, if nothing else, not knowing what I am doing, and not caring if an idea that seizes my imagination and creativity is commercial or not.

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

It’s so rare to see someone built like this who hasn’t waxed, shaved and plucked off all of his body hair.

Just Like Me

And here we are on Sunday morning. It rained yesterday and was damp and humid all day. It looks like it rained overnight, too. I slept well and got up early this morning, as I had hoped I would. Sparky somehow knows when I want to get up early–he let me sleep late the last two mornings, even if I was already awake when he decided to get me up this morning. Yesterday was actually kind of nice, to be honest. I did do some writing and organizing yesterday, which was awesome, and I hope to do more today and, since I am up so early, perhaps do some reading as well. I only have to work three days this week because I am leaving for Alabama on Thursday (be back on Saturday), and of course next week will be yet another holiday weekend. I am getting rather spoiled, methinks.

We were really lucky as far as Arthur and the other storms he spawned in his wake are concerned; I just saw how so much of the Gulf Coast and the southern parts of Mississippi got slammed with flooding, and I do have to drive through that part of the state on Thursday on my way north. I haven’t yet decided what I am going to listen to in the car, either. Since it’s still Pride, I am thinking maybe something on the queer side, rather than my usual car stalwarts (Carol Goodman, Donna Andrews, Laurie King, Lisa Unger), this time around. Something to ponder, for sure. I’ve also not been as motivated this year, for some reason, to write Pride essays for my newsletter–and I think I actually just figured it out; using Pride Month to talk about queer issues, books, culture and experience is limiting, because–just like African-American History Month in February, I worry I will only do that during Pride, and that’s wrong. Just as I read marginalized writers all year long, I should write about queer issues all year and shouldn’t just make it about Pride Month. Du-uh.

Sometimes it takes me a minute. I am kind of oblivious that way, most of the time. (I also started writing this and then got sucked into clips of World Cup tourists having a lovely time here for much longer than necessary…but I also had the whole morning, and I’ve also been fighting Sparky for my desk chair all morning, too (even now as I type this he is lying underneath my desk, waiting for me to get up again). I’ve had some toast and a piece of coffee cake, and might need to have something else before I take my pills and get cleaned up and move into the living room. And I have to go back to the office tomorrow, heavy sigh. Not a terrible thing, actually, especially since I feel good and rested and recharged this morning. I am resisting the urge to do literally nothing for the rest of the day, which wouldn’t be a good thing. But dear Lord, is it ever tempting to think about! I have moved to the easy chair from my desk; I got up for more coffee and the look Sparky gave me from my desk chair, once he’d moved into it literally the moment I got up? Yeah, you can have the chair, Mr. Man.

We finished America’s Sweethearts, and yeah, not nearly as engaging as the earlier seasons. From there, we moved on to the latest Harlan Coben show on Netflix, I Will Find You, which was thoroughly engaging, had intense and insane twists and turns, and was also very well-acted. You really can never go wrong with a Harlan Coben show, seriously, or book. Harlan’s the best, and absolutely deserves every cent of his insane success.

Maybe I should have been nicer. Nah, that would have been exhausting because that’s just not who I am.

Yes, I did write yesterday, in case you were wondering, It felt good and so I just went with it. I also gathered up all my journal notes for the book–long overdue–and I also found all the scans of book notes from all the older journals (I’d forgotten I’d already done this before–the joys of the impaired memory I’ve had most of this decade), which will make the book easier to write. It really does help to get organized. I’m still not finished organizing, either, but I know I can make some excellent progress today. I also need to do a bit of chores today, too, but I want to get some writing done again today. I also worked on a couple of short stories yesterday, which was also kind of awesome. It feels amazing to be writing again, and all this free time is also amazing, which is partly why I am feeling so lazy. I always had so much else to do all the time that writing always felt like my lowest priority, and now that all I have to do, besides my chores and every day things and my job, is write and relax, it’s wonderful. I don’t have to be so organized and busy all the time, and I don’t need to feel guilty for doing things other than writing anymore, which is lovely.

And so on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, and I will be back tomorrow morning!

It’s a Tuff Life

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

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

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

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

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

We Belong

Saturday in New Orleans and tonight is the Pride parade in the French Quarter. I won’t be heading down there, since we don’t have a booth there this year for work (at least not that I am aware of) nor are we passing out condoms or testing. We might be, but since I am always needed in the office four days a week at least for the clinic they tend to not ask me to do any events outside of business hours. I had a lovely and restful day working at home yesterday, doing quality assurance on forms until such time as my eyes were crossing and my brain was hurting a bit. Periodically having to take a break to deal with laundering the bed linens and the other laundry helped push that moment back further and further, which was also lovely. We also had thunder, but no storms! I didn’t run any errands yesterday. I will do that today, as well as have some things delivered. I got up early yesterday morning, even before His Majesty came up to let me know he was hungry, and was able to get moving on things earlier than usual. I also felt pretty good, if low energy, but the coffee and breakfast definitely helped with that. It is supposed to rain this afternoon–major thunderstorm around one, then showers the rest of the day–making it a terrific day to run errands and get safely home before the weather turns.

I came up with a short story idea out of nowhere yesterday, with a funny title, and it’s got Jem, my character from Death Drop, in it, and that’s also kind of fun. The entire concept behind it is actually kind of funny, and Jem’s droll sense of humor should make it even more fun to write. I also worked on the book some (I know! Madness!), which is really funny because I really did think yesterday morning before I showered that I still was dragging a bit so getting my day job work done would be enough of an accomplishment…and that all turned around on me, didn’t it? Huzzah! It feels so good, so right, to be writing again. I’ve truly missed it, and I’ve missed enjoying it even more than that! I don’t know what I am going to do with the story should I manage to finish it, but that’s part of the fun. I also worked on the book (I know, right?) a bit yesterday and hope to get a bit more written over this weekend. This week is also Juneteenth, so I have a three day weekend next, and the week after I am meeting Dad in Alabama for their anniversary, and the next week is the 4th.

Sparky let me sleep late this morning, which I do appreciate. I feel pretty rested and good today. I am going to go get gas this morning, pick up the dry cleaning, get the mail, and make a grocery run while ordering other things to be delivered later on today. After I finish and post this I am going to get cleaned up and read for a while. I also have to do some chores–the kitchen and my workspace in particular are in fairly bad shape, and there’s dishes like always. Sigh. But that’s really the thing with life, isn’t it? There’s always the minutiae that has to be kept up with…to quote my late friend Pat Brady, “I just wish someone would take care of the minutiae so I don’t have to.” Amen to that, sister, amen to that.

We started watching Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, with Tatiana Maslany (whom I’ve loved since Orphan Black) and Brandon Flynn (who is unbelievably gorgeous); it’s interesting and Hitchcockian, which I kind of love, an Maslany is terrific as she is in everything. I also want to rewatch this week’s Widow’s Bay because I don’t really remember much of it, so I must have been either tired or distracted while I watched. I would also like to watch Daniel Craig’s Queer, if I can find it streaming this weekend, and of course there’s always The Mummy Returns, which I need to rewatch, and I’ve decided to rewatch and maybe reread Johnny Tremain for the 4th of July this year. I also need to send out a newsletter this weekend; so which one do I want to finish? Questions, questions, questions.

All right, I need another cup of coffee and I need to make some breakfast and get this day underway once and for all. Hope you have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow morning bright and early. Until then, toodle-oo!

Carlos Alcaraz’ milkshake brings the boys to the tennis court. Photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

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.

Wuthering Heights

How is it Sunday already? From whence didst my weekend goeth? (I am sure that is incorrect usage, but I can’t be bothered to check) Yet it is gone already and tomorrow morning I’ll be up early again to head into the office. I was still running a bit on accessory and still recharging yesterday, and that was okay. I slept later than I’d expected, but that was fine. I drank my coffee and had my breakfast and made my entry yesterday morning. I read for a bit, caught up some on the news, and then ran my errands. I took a load of clothes to the dry cleaner and two boxes of books to the library sale. I also stopped at the Fresh Market to pick up a few things, and came home to just kind of chill and read some more of my book before Paul got up. I. had thought about heading to the Creole Tomato Festival at the French Market yesterday, but there was some kind of stupid other thing going on at the other end of the Quarter–right on my way to the Market, so I decided not to bother. I got some great ones at the grocery store on Friday, anyway, and I cut one up to have with mozzarella salad for lunch, and it was marvelous. Probably having the same lunch today, too.

Creole tomatoes are the best. I love Creole tomato season.

I also wrote a little bit more yesterday while the television was on in the background while Nurse Sparky took care of Paul (sleeping on him), which also felt kind of nice. It’s also kind of strange that I am learning how much I love writing again by going back to the very beginning; I am writing everything by hand in my journal, and my handwriting is getting prettier and prettier as well as more precise. I also wrote on the computer, about a thousand words overall on some short stories, about four in all, which was kind of scattered and fun again. I also started writing the opening of yet another novel–but I was worried about forgetting how I wanted that particular novel to open, so I wrote it.

It’s nice to be writing again, even if it is all pretty much scattered and all over the place.

I spent most of the day in my easy chair, either scribbling in my journal or watching television. We watched more of Cape Fear, Sweetpea, and The Boroughs last evening. We still haven’t watched Bridgerton or Stranger Things, and I’m not sure why we lost interest in either. Maybe because there was so much time between seasons? I don’t know. There’s a new Harlan Coben show dropping next week, and we’re looking forward to that–we always love Harlan’s shows–and I also did some reading yesterday morning. I would like to do some more reading this morning, and maybe even some more writing; one never can be certain how the day is going to go. I slept in this morning, and feel a bit tired, too.

But my coffee is going down nicely and my body is also waking up. My workspace is a complete and utter mess this morning, and I should work on that some. All the stuff I dropped off yesterday enabled me to clean and organize that corner of the living room, and maybe it’s time to start clearing out the bead trunk, too. I can keep things in there besides the beads–all the living room blankets, for one–and then close it for another clean surface. I’ll look into that this week, to see if ARCNO still has bead donations spots up and running around the city.

And I should do some cleaning and organizing of the kitchen.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close, so I can get another cup of coffee and make my breakfast to get this day started. Will it be a productive one, or will it not? It remains to be seen, and I will check in with you again tomorrow. See you then!

El Castillo, Chichen Itza, Mexico. And yes, despite being both afraid of heights AND falling, Greg climbed that thing. Coming down was much worse.

Never Wanna Leave You

Thursday morning coming in strong, how are you doing? Yesterday was kind of drab and overcast and rainy, which was terrific–you know I love me some rain–and a huge relief after how thick and awful the humidity was when I left for the office yesterday morning. That also explains the sinus attack I had when I got up–I had to take a Claritin-D, it was so bad–but I could tell by the time I got to the office it was going to rain. I didn’t get any “flood watch” texts or emails, so it wasn’t too bad. We’re supposed to get a lot more rain today and tomorrow, with it clearing up a bit on the weekend. It’s rained a lot here this late spring, and I can’t remember the last time we had such a wet May and June. I love it, of course–I really do want it to rain all day Friday so after I finish my work-at-home chores I can read under a blanket while it storms outside. I did some chores last night when I got home from work, and felt pretty good. Paul and I watched some television–we started Sweetpea, which is delightfully wicked and twisted in a deliciously macabre kind of way–and then it was time for bed.

I feel good this morning, and I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home yesterday, which was most definitely a good thing. I think not only am I getting close to being back to what would be considered normal, health-wise, again for the first time in years but maybe I’m finally getting used to getting up at six in the morning every day, which would be lovely. It’s lovely not to feel tired when I am working with a client, it’s lovely to think oh, I have the energy to get some things done tonight on the way home from work, but i also have to get used to the idea that just because Paul is on the couch watching television doesn’t mean I have to join him, but it’s lovely to have time together just watching our shows or finding new ones. I hate when I am a Festival widow, because there’s nothing I enjoy more than just hanging out with Paul and Sparky while relaxing. (If it’s raining outside? Chef’s kiss! We are getting a lot of rain lately; I’m starting to see social media posts about locals being tired of the rain, so…)

I did write a newsletter that is scheduled to go out today for Pride Month; about the missing queer bookstores and how much I used to love them, and how good they were to me as an author. This was actually inspired by seeing a post on Tampa Bay LGBT History’s Facebook page about Tomes and Treasures, mentioning the guy who owned it, whom I actually met at the store (it was the first gay bookstore I ever entered) and how that store opened up my life to the vastness that was gay fiction and non-fiction, as well as all the other colors of the rainbow). As I am someone who has always learned best by reading (which is why I always sucked at math), books helped me get a better understanding of our history, how much of that is hidden in plain sight (I mean, I knew when reading history books that while they didn’t come right out and say is “oh, this king preferred men”–I knew what the truth of Edward II, Henri III, Frederick the Great, Philippe d’Orleans, and others really was), it was pretty safe to assume any king or emperor or great lord who had male favorites (Henri III’s were called “the mignons”) was actually a queen.

After Tuesday’s elections, I saw one of those “leftist influencers,” (whom I’ve never trusted; for one, he’s a nepo-baby and comes from money) who always gave me a homophobic vibe, dropped the mask entirely, claiming California voters gave into the “homo-fascist agenda” and several other unspeakably vile things–demeaning and degrading an already vilified minority group really isn’t the way to go for a straight white cisgender nepo-baby. It doesn’t take long for their masks to drop, does it? How is this any different from gay men like Keith Edwards who are racists and carrying water for white supremacy and misogyny? (You’re GAY, Keith, they will turn on you once you’ve sold everyone else out.) Well, you can miss me with all of your stans’ excuses and homophobia, Mr. Nepo-Baby. Fuck you. I’m waiting for the girls you date-raped while in your fraternity to come forward–and you know they are there because he’s clearly a pig with a massive ego.

Oh, and Mr. Nepo Baby? You’re not that hot, babe. Bet you’ve got some super-sexy back hair, too.

This is also why I get so angry when I see anyone on the left ready and willing to throw trans people under the bus; because it wasn’t that long ago that the left was willing to throw us ALL under the bus–gay, lesbian, bi, trans etc.

The fact that no one calls it out, ever, is even more sickening and disgusting.

And Nepo-Baby bottom-feeder said this shit during PRIDE MONTH.

Miss me with your excuses and explanations. There is no way that saying “homo-fascist” under ANY circumstance isn’t homophobic.

And I believe people when they show me who they are. Hence my lack of empathy, pity or sympathy for anyone MAGA, or voted MAGA while claiming not to be. You pissed all over my rights to own the libs. Fuck you now, and fuck you forever.

Homophobia will always be unforgivable. I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire in front of me; I’d look for things to stoke the fire.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Thursday be awesome and your month homophobia free. I’ll be back tomorrow, see you then!

I would love to go to Carnival in Venice and wear one of these amazing costumes.