Tag: Sparky

I Will Run to You

Sunday morning, I am up early, and it’s 35 degrees here. No snow here that I am aware of, but some places along the Gulf Coast did get snow, like Gulf Shores, Alabama. This morning is the best I’ve felt in the morning this entire weekend, and I think after yesterday’s low-energy-didn’t-even-unload-the-dishwasher day, it’ll be nice to get things done this morning and have a nice day. I did run those errands yesterday, so I don’t have to leave the house today (tomorrow may be a different story); and it’s warm and cozy inside this morning, too, which is marvelous–can some time in my easy chair with a book and a blanket be in my future? Absolutely! I am also going to shave and get thoroughly cleaned up this morning, too. AMBITIOUS, right? Getting up early and feeling genuinely rested is a lovely feeling, I must say.

We finished Run Away last night, which was fun and interesting and went into an entirely different path than I expected from the beginning. We then moved on to the new Agatha Christie adaptation, Seven Dials, which is based on one of my favorite Agatha Christies, The Seven Dials Mystery. I’ve always been an odd Christie fan; I started reading her when I was about ten or eleven, and spent most of my teens reading the entire Christie canon. While I did enjoy her more famous and iconic novels, my favorites of hers have always been lesser-known, and are probably considered her weaker ones. My absolute favorite is Endless Night, followed by The Secret of Chimneys, Death Comes as the End, N or M?, and The Pale Horse, among others. I really liked the character of Bundle (Lady Eileen Brent), and she is quite fun in this adaptation as well. We watched the first two episodes last night, and there is one more to go today. I suppose we’ll watch Stranger Things next, as completists, but there’s a lot of good shows to watch at the current moment, a tough problem to have.

As I mentioned, yesterday wound up being a low energy day. I didn’t run all the errands I needed to, cutting some things out because I was tired and didn’t want to push my luck. I did make groceries at Rouses and the Fresh Market, but after bringing everything in I was pretty wiped for the rest of the day, and my brain couldn’t really focus enough to read, so it was back to documentaries for me in the afternoon while Sparky napped in my lap. I did clean up and organize some computer files–an endless task indeed–which I will probably do more of today. The apartment isn’t neat and orderly, but it’s getting there. Today may also be a “prune the books” kind of day, too. I definitely need to empty the dishwasher and take the recycling out, for sure, and get the rugs back in order. It’s weird to have tomorrow of as well, but…there are worse things. I took Wednesday off for a funeral, too, so this is going to be a very strange week for me. Normality will return next week, but then it’s Carnival.

Sigh.

I’m really getting used to–and spoiled–by all this time off from work.

Despite the temperature, it’s beautiful and sunny outside today, with a blue sky and no clouds to be seen anywhere. I just saw that it also snowed in Pensacola, which is wild…Pensacola being about two hours or so from New Orleans east on I-10. Snow below I-10 is kind of crazy; I always joke that I moved south of I-10 specifically to avoid cold weather. I definitely need to write a Scotty set during the blizzard last year…I’ve decided to jump ahead with the series rather than trying to keep the books in a continuous timeframe, realizing at the way things are going in a couple of years the books would be considered historical fiction if I kept on the way I was, so I am going to skip ahead and recap in the intro to the next one. I can also go back and write more that are out of order, if need be; other series have done that, too.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and read for a bit. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Foreplay/Long Time

Work at home Friday has rolled around again, and this time it precedes yet another three day weekend. I was tired yesterday, not being used to getting up at six for four days in a row again. I made some groceries on the way home from work, did some chores when I got home, and then slid into my easy chair with Sparky for some cuddles and catching up on the news. I also had no idea how tired I actually was until I got home; Sparky curled up in my lap, purring, and by seven thirty I was sound asleep in my easy chair! I woke up groggy after eight and said fuck it and went to bed. I slept like the dead, and didn’t get up until about eight this morning. I still am achy in places–the hips and Achilles tendons, of all things–and not feeling particularly energetic this morning, either, and Sparky is being no help this morning at all. I have a meeting this morning, and I have lots of laundry to do, in addition to some work-at-home duties I need to get caught up on. We weren’t terribly busy yesterday–not as busy as we were scheduled to be, and I had to train someone, too–but we were busy enough. I did get a lot of stuff at the office caught up, which might very well be why I was so tired and sleepy last night (fatigue is different, in that it doesn’t involve feeling sleepy; I used to get so tired and exhausted I couldn’t do anything but was wide awake, which was torturous). Today I also have errands to run, but the temperature is going to be in the low seventies again (with a cold front striking over the weekend–slight chance of snow again Sunday morning), which will make it ever so much better to do.

And it’s a three day weekend, which is even more marvelous.

I do have a lot I need to get working on this glorious weekend. I want to do some more work on the apartment done, clean out some books to take to the library sale this weekend, and of course, I need to read and write this weekend. I also would like to do some seriously deep cleaning with the files and so forth–getting rid of things I no longer need. I don’t need to hoard ideas any more. I am never going to write every story, novel or essay idea I have, and I have more and more ideas all the time. I went ahead and ordered some groceries for delivery–it is absolutely eerie how expensive things are now, and how easily you get to over $100 in no time–while knowing you used to get three times that amount of things for that amount. $100 used to fill the hatch of my car. Now I can get it into the house with one trip with the wagon. So glad everyone voted for lower prices. Funny how they stopped complaining about prices once 1/20 rolled around while everything gets more expensive by the week. (It was always about the competent Black woman, let’s make no mistake there.)

I also love all the MAGAts posting their support of the occupation of Minneapolis and the Gestapo, and have to wonder, how would they feel if this was happening in their home town? If one of their neighboring moms got shot in the face three times by a murderous thug who shouldn’t be allowed to own a gun, let alone use one. Nothing ever matters to them unless it affects them personally, and their inability to even consider a different point of view (because they are incapable of logical thinking) is yet another reason why this country is now an autocracy with some remnants of the old system hanging on for dear life while bending the knee to the dictator. Democratic leadership is sadly too milquetoast to effectively clean house with the corporatists and centrists who are basically MAGA-lite and only beholden to their donors and not their constituents. When they gave party leadership back to Schumer and Jeffries after the last election I knew we were doomed, because neither is competent or intelligent enough to stand up for their base and apparently think it is still 1975. If Schumer and Jeffries led the party in the 1970s, Nixon would have finished his second term. I am sick to death of wimps who are afraid Fox News is going to look at them cross-eyed. The nation is crying out for them to do something other than being masters of the strongly worded letter.

We don’t need Karens asking for the manager. Where is our JFK, FDR, or even Ted Kennedy? Instead we’ve got Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries, two incompetent losers who will be judged very harshly by the base. I hope to God someone primaries Schumer so we can be finally rid of that loser who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag that is already torn. Minneapolis and everything that happens there is also on the Democratic Party leadership. I lived in Minneapolis (for eight months)in 1996 before I moved to New Orleans, and it’s very upsetting to see what’s happening there. I have friends there I worry about on the daily.

And yet we still have elected Democrats backing ICE.

Quislings, every last one of them. Every one of them who voted to confirm Kristi Noem should be asked every day how they intend to make up for that to their base, because that is disqualifying for office. So, by all means, ask me for more money. You won’t get it, but I appreciate the laugh every time I get a fundraising email to back them in their “fight” and treating us all like marks at a pro wrestling match. Like we can’t see how little they are doing and how ineffectual what little they do is?

Sigh.

And I am going to head into the spice mines now after this grim post. Have a lovely weekend, everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

Let Me Take You Home Tonight

Thursday morning of my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! Busy day, busy week, three day weekend, pruning books and working on the apartment and being writerly productive as well; I think I am procrastinating out of a fear of failure, which is part of the anxiety but stealth anxiety–a mental thing created by years of anxiety and almost constant stress. I hate when that happens. We’re also about to be hit by another cold front this weekend, with even a slight possibility of snow on Sunday morning. (!!!!) I am looking forward to another long weekend, although there won’t be another for awhile. I slept well last night, too. I am feeling a bit physically tired, but that’s no surprise since I haven’t gotten up at six for four days in a row since last month, I think. Who knows? I also am taking this coming Wednesday off, for a friend’s funeral, so next week is even lighter than usual. Ah, well.

We were busy yesterday in the clinic (this week has really been insanely busy; today too), and so I was a bit on the tired side when I got home last night after a couple of errands. Sparky and I hung out for a while, but I also got up and did some chores, too. I watched the first part of the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City reunion before going to bed–maybe that was why I slept so well? Hee hee, I doubt it; I should have had nightmares about women screaming at each other instead, but here we are. I don’t really remember much of it, so I may have to watch it again.

I’ve really been missing my friend Victoria lately. Victoria was always my go-to for the last almost thirty years for political conversations; she also loved history and studied it more than I do–she always got my references, and I always got hers, which was awesome and enjoyable as we complained about the state of the world and all its insanities. Every time something horrific happens (on the daily, really) I am tempted to email her before I remember that she’s gone, and that little pang comes back. I can only imagine the fiery pieces she would have written about Renee Good’s government sanctioned and approved murder. But on the other hand, I’m kind of glad she was too ill at the end to see what was going on in the country and she passed before it got worse…I’m kind of glad she didn’t live to see what the country she loved so much has become…ironically, after everything she’d seen and reported on, I was the cynical one of the two of us…we also used to say that evangelicals worshipped Republican Armani Jesus (RAJ) and their mentality was IOIYR–“it’s okay if you’re Republican.”

Damn, I miss her.

Another writer friend–Chris Muncie–died earlier this week, too; I hadn’t talked to Chris in well over a decade, but we co-edited an erotica anthology together and he also published some of my short fiction in his anthologies, and vice versa. I hate getting to the age where you start losing friends and family. Granted, I went through this before–thanks again, Ronald Reagan!–with HIV/AIDS, and maybe I was thinking in my subconscious that since I’d already seen so much death and experienced so much grief when I was younger that I wouldn’t have to go through it again as I aged? And maybe my present day grieving is colored by PTSD from my twenties and thirties? Back then, we just were so beaten down by all the death that, at least for me, I went numb inside and didn’t really feel anything for a long time. I probably should go back to therapy, shouldn’t I?

Heavy heaving sigh.

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 tomorrow on Work-at-Home Friday! And may everyone in Minneapolis stay safe, okay?

Sometimes tree branch clearance is a close call for floats!

Something About You

‘Tis Tuesday morning and all is well; at least so far, at any rate. It was very cold at the office yesterday, which didn’t make a lot of sense. The temperature did drop overnight Saturday, as I may have mentioned yesterday, but man, it was so cold in the office yesterday it made me sleepy and my knee joints ache–which is a new ache, I might add. I was also experiencing some pain from my left Achilles tendon yesterday, that I noticed particularly as I pushed the cart around the grocery store last night. I did make good on my plan to stop and make a little groceries last night on the way home, but was very tired from the cold and once I was home, collapsed into my chair with Sparky. The apartment was very warm and comfortable when I got home, but I also realized yesterday that I didn’t dress appropriately for the cold, either. It’s 39 right now outside, so yes–layers and a jacket for the day (and a sweater and a T-shirt). Did I mention that it was insanely cold in the office yesterday? Feel free to mock me, people from the frozen tundra up north, as y’all are wont to do. I don’t care.

I also decided yesterday that one thing I definitely need to do this year is get the ebook of Jackson Square Jazz put up at long last. I just need to revise and copy edit it, and I may even do a bit more polishing on it than was originally done. I don’t know why I was so determined that the ebook be exactly like the (long) out of print hard copies, but there you have it, you know? My insistence that it be exactly the same and not changed or revisited at all was came from the obsessive part of my brain and now that I’m medicated, that’s no longer a thing. There’s no point in setting a personal deadline, because I always blow those in any case (kind of like the publisher ones), but I can add it to the long list of things to do (I still need to update my to-do list, don’t I?) and can at least try to get it done by spring. I do have a three-day weekend coming up this weekend, too….and no Costco trip, either, so that won’t wear me out. Huzzah? I guess the national championship in football game is this week, too? That should tell you something–that I don’t even know when the game is being played. Anyway, I need to reread the book first at any rate, and since my mind seems unable to focus enough to read something, anything, else…maybe this will kick-start my brain back into reading some more.

You know what straight women who consume queer content but try to exclude queer people from said content are? Homophobes. I saw over the weekend a horrible post in which a gay man in Utah went to an advertised watch-party for Heated Rivalry, and long story short, the straight women kicked him out because “he made them uncomfortable.” Seriously? I’ve seen a lot of this sort of “gatekeeping” on this show, but also on gay romance. Almost twenty years ago, I was attacked and lied on and smeared and slandered because I dared to say that there was clearly homophobia in the “m/m community”–which there was, always has been, and there still is obviously1; and I certainly do not need any cisgender straight woman to tell me what is and isn’t homophobic, thank you very much. If you’re MAGA and read/write gay romance, you probably shouldn’t be–because you aren’t allies, you don’t care about us or our rights, and how fucking dare you appropriate our lives and stories (and spaces) to make money? I have always said anyone can write anything they want whenever they want; I am not in the habit of telling any artist how to express themselves creatively. It isn’t a matter of can you, but more a should you. No one has a right to be published–and no one has a right to book sales and an audience, either. I don’t want anyone telling me what I can and can’t write; and I am not going to tell anyone else what they should write or read or watch or anything like that.

And as the watch-party story spread across social media, one of the terrific things I’ve seen is actual straight women allies calling that behavior out as exclusionary and homophobic, which is a lovely change from the way they all used to pile on anyone with the mildest question or concern about said writings and writers, particularly those who thought making jokes about queer identity when not being actually queer wasn’t homophobic.2

And for the record, I know any number of straight women who write excellent fiction about gay men.

It really is amazing how Heated Rivalry is driving so much discourse, isn’t it? I’ve also taken to occasionally watching reaction videos of straight guys watching and loving the show; my favorite are the Empty Netters, who’ve gone kind of viral. It is really, really nice seeing straight guys getting vested in the show–they tuned in for the hockey but got caught up in the story. I tend to think those men probably weren’t actively homophobic, or really were, deep down; I’m sure they’ve made gay jokes and used gay slurs to be funny with other straight men. But being open to watching a gay romance show, getting vested in it, and spreading the word about the show to get more viewers? That’s awesome, and the sort of thing we need more of in the future, despite the country burning to the ground.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines.

I’m very pleased with how this picture, from the Iris parade a few years back, turned out.
  1. The attacks on me were incredibly homophobic–and I will never forgive nor forget those bitches. ↩︎
  2. I also loved how some of them were horrified at how queer fiction is marginalized in the industry. I mean, duh. ↩︎

More Than a Feeling

Sunday morning after yet another low energy Saturday. I slept late again and did next to nothing yesterday, other than a couple of errands (more on that later) and a load of laundry. I spent most of yesterday hanging out with Paul and Sparky and watching television; there was a gymnastics meet that LSU competed in as well as the figure skating finals for men’s and ice dance. That was my entire day, really, and I also was lazy enough to let everything slide, so I have a messy kitchen and living room to deal with this morning. I didn’t read, and we didn’t watch much of anything else other than some news and other clips on Youtube between the gymnastics and figure skating. I do feel more rested today, which is a plus, and I slept late again this morning, too. No worries, I decided yesterday that regretting sleeping longer than usual is counter-productive. I need to rest, and it’s not laziness if you want to sleep later. One thing I need to unpack and process and get over this year is the fear of being thought lazy–and you’re not lazy if you’re not doing something productive every minute and second of every single day. (Thanks, Mom!)

I have no idea what today is going to be like and I am not really making definitive plans for the day. I do need to update my to-do list, make a grocery list, pay some bills, and I do need to do something about the kitchen/living room. I did notice the other day that the barricades for St. Charles’ Carnival Slalom Course are already out on the neutral grounds on the Avenue, which is going to be fun driving down on my way home from work during the parade weeks as I rush to get home before they close the Avenue off, sealing those of us who live in the Box off from the rest of the city. I forgot to bring home boxes from work to pack up more books for the library sale, having finally reached the acceptance phase of knowing I’ll never read all the books I have on hand and should give someone else the opportunity to read them. I paid for them already, after all, so the authors have gotten a royalty from me so why not let someone else have them, right? Books aren’t for decor, they are to be read and enjoyed and shared, and I no longer need to have books stuffed on every available surface and into cabinets and the attic and so forth, to feel comfort. I always used to be afraid I’d run out of something to read and so always needed a big TBR pile. I don’t need that anymore, and I will never run out of things to read so long as I have my iPad.

I also don’t have the anxiety that drove the book hoarding anymore, either.

I see that the Virulently Anti-Black Queens offered a non-apology yesterday that went over almost as well as their racism and misogyny did in the first place. I believe people when they show me who they are the first time, thanks. I also loved seeing gay white men telling Black people on social media what is and isn’t racism. Way to beat the allegations that we’re racists, guys. It also pisses me off because I always want to support queer people and their art, but I can’t be supportive of problematic gay men, especially when they target Black people for disdain and contempt that is clearly rooted in white supremacy–there are plenty of white gay men who think because they’re marginalized they can’t be racist. Au contraire, mon frere–being marginalized yourself doesn’t mean you can marginalize and belittle others because you’re white or have proximity to whiteness. Do better, people. I’m not perfect and make mistakes all the fucking time–but I also try to take responsibility for my words, and learn. We all have to unpack things we learned and absorbed from the culture and society we were raised in–those things aren’t our fault entirely, but not unpacking them and clearing them out of our psyches IS.

It’s not really that hard to look at other demographics through a lens of humanity first, and it really shouldn’t be that difficult for all of us to be more empathetic and to call out dehumanizing behavior and language.

When I picked up the mail yesterday, my box o’books for Hurricane Season Hustle had arrived. And while it’s always a thrill to get said author copies–that never gets old–I did have a bit of a pang, thinking Yay! followed by Christ, where am I going to keep these? That was a new reaction, and probably due to not having the anxiety anymore and being more pragmatic about the book hoarding. The kitchen was too messy to take a picture of the box o’books to post the way I always do; so I’ll have to get some work done on the room before I can unpack the box and do my usual routine with the books.

And on that note, the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself and Sparky wants my desk chair for his morning nap, so…I am going to close this and head into the spice mines, whether I want to or not. Enjoy your Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning before work.

Jackson

Tis Saturday here in the Lost Apartment, and all through the house, only Greg is stirring now that Sparky’s been fed. I stayed up late doing the laundry, so am off to a late start this morning but that’s okay. I feel good this morning–I was kind of low energy yesterday, so after work and the Costco adventure I was pretty done in. I wound up watching the Oregon-Indiana game (more on that later), and then we watched the figure skating. Some incredible performances by the ladies! I fell asleep in my chair but also wound up not going to bed until after midnight, which I also did Thursday night and needs to stop. I’ll set my alarm for tomorrow morning; this needs to stop so I can be productive!

It barely sprinkled yesterday, in spite of the constant weather alert warnings I was getting in my inbox all day Thursday and yesterday morning. FLOOD WATCH! TORNADOES! And then it was sunny and over seventy all day. It did just start raining, though. I have a couple of errands to do this morning, but I might wait a bit until the rain passes….and read in my chair under my blanket. That would be cozy and lovely, wouldn’t it? It certainly sounds good, at any rate. I’ve already gotten cleaned up because I was groggy and needed to wake up, so I am already ahead of the game. I love rain so much. If it was raining when I woke up, I’d probably still be in bed with Sparky and listening to its patter on the roof… and seeing the stream the walk always turns into outside my windows this morning is soothing.

This has been a no-good horrible week, hasn’t it? This is part of the reason why I wasn’t willing to get super excited about the fresh start a new year brings with it. None of that “goodbye to a horrible year yay for a new one” bullshit for me, thank you very much, having been burned before too many times to think a calendar reset means anything to thugs, fascists, Nazis, and traitors. It’s been a hell of a year so far, hasn’t it? And now that the Gestapo reboot has permission and cover from the administration, Fox, Newsmax, and all the rest to kill Americans pretty much minding their own business. The lies and the spin has been unreal–but those who listen to, accept, and regurgitate those talking points are not the majority. Currently, Kristi Noem is harboring a fugitive from justice; funny how all those states’ rights Republicans only think red states can defy the government.

Are we great again yet? Tired of all this winning?

And then there was the “pick me gay” debacle that blew up yesterday with Bowen Yang and Matt Rogers. I sort of liked Bowen Yang (I do not watch SNL) and was on the fence with Matt Rogers. I wasn’t sure what to make of him, in all honesty. I mean, he was cute enough and was built well, but I didn’t have an opinion on him one way or the other until this week. But…this podcast telling people not to donate to Jasmine Crockett because of…well, reasons that sound pretty fucking racist and misogynistic to me? That was not it. At the very best, they sounded deeply out of touch, uneducated on the subject, and probably should have kept their mouths shut rather than coming for Ms. Crockett. I’m not saying they don’t have a right to their opinions, but they also have a right to consequences, and it’s not really smart to go after a politician whose base is the exact same base as your audience. I will never understand the mentality of leaning into what privilege you do have when you’re underprivileged. Yes, yes, you are white (or white-adjacent) men, so by all means go after a Black woman who is doing good in the world because you’re tragically uninformed. Were they honestly so ignorant to think Black women would agree with them? Has their minor celebrity really given them such unearned arrogance? I don’t know what will happen with them–will they learn from this and reflect and do better, or are they going to double down? Sadly, so far it seems that they’ve decided to go the double-down path, at least so far.

I will say I am very happy, though, to see them being critiqued in a non-homophobic way1 (although I am sure there is some of that out there I’ve not seen), so in a way this is sort of progress? I do think there is a tendency (just observational, not trying to be reductive) amongst gay men to think our marginalization is a shield that somehow allows us to be problematic? I also think marginalized people tend to only think about their demographic’s oppression, not understanding that we’re all just branches on the same tree coming from a common root–the patriarchy. They win because they divide us, and because some of us are so desperate for acknowledgment and recognition from the societal mainstream that we accept, and will turn on others, for crumbs.

It’s so disappointing. It’s so much harder to find success in entertainment as a marginalized person, only to use it to be a shit.

And that “mainstream acceptance”? Never permanent. They’ll just take a longer time getting around to you, but they will eventually. WAKE UP PEOPLE.

Then again, if you’re here and reading this, you’re already pretty awake.

Ah, the rain has stopped, so it’s time for me to get moving on the day. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

The gay fantasy of how gym showers work…
  1. I did see one Black woman activist dragging them for filth (the entire thing was epic) and she closed with perhaps the most classic read of two gay men I’ve ever heard; one that was worthy of the Read Hall of Fame, and one that showed she knew exactly who those two were. ↩︎

Something Like That

Monday and back to the spice mines for me today. It has been a glorious long weekend of sorts; and while I didn’t get nearly as much accomplished as I would have liked…it was kind of lovely coming downstairs this morning to a neat and orderly appointment. I woke up this morning with Paul on my right side and Sparky curled up around my feet, which was remarkably comfortable and cozy; I would have happily stayed there for hours. It certainly helped me sleep more deeply, methinks. I did spend a lot of time organizing and filing and cleaning yesterday, which was very nice. The twelve days of Christmas end tomorrow with the arrival of Twelfth Night, which officially kicks off Carnival season–which also means KING CAKE SEASON! Huzzah! I am going to pick one up on the way home tonight (since I have to stop anyway) but won’t be cutting into it until tomorrow morning which is TWELFTH NIGHT. And I won’t be using Christmas imagery any longer after tomorrow, either.

It’s dark outside my windows this morning, which feels a bit odd after getting up later for the last four days. The Saints also lost yesterday, but it didn’t bug me in the least; they seem to be gelling as a team behind this new quarterback, Tyler Slough and thus, hope springs eternal as ever for us Saints fans. I didn’t have the mental faculties to read very much yesterday, and I didn’t write a newsletter, as I had hoped to do. (It’s already started; I just need to finish it…) Part of this is Sparky’s fault; he was glued to me for the last two days–following me around, riding on my shoulder, wanting to sleep in my lap and cuddle.

It was also kind of interesting to just let the day happen, as I did yesterday. It was nice not being in a rush to do anything or feeling the ticking of the clock advancing as the day wore on and time passed. I didn’t do the living room floor–but I got the kitchen floor under control again. I also got a lot of filing and organizing of my work space done, too, which is terrific; I should be able to maintain the apartment easily from now on so long as I stay on top of it, or don’t let things slide for days or till the weekend. As I mentioned before, Sparky was glued to me yesterday and very needy, so I would do something and then have to sit so he could nap on me for a bit. Yes, I am Sparky’s bitch, but he’s such a dear little boy.

And of course, every time I think oh I can’t sit now, baby I’d remember all the times I’d said that to Skittle and Scooter and how I wish I could go back and love them even more than I did…and I am putty in Sparky’s hands. Skittle and Scooter did teach me how to love a cat. I doubt very much that it would work, but I wish I could have all three of my cats in the bed with me every morning. I suspect they were all meant to be only cats…but sometimes I think Sparky needs a buddy to play with…usually when he’s biting and clawing my arm in rough play. He does love to pounce…

I have to work in the clinic today, and we’re going to be extremely busy this week, so I sense I’ll be exhausted by the time the week ends. I know Paul wants to go to Costco this weekend, and since the house is clean, all I need to do is stay on top of things and then I don’t have to do anything major this weekend, and can start doing other things that need to be done. More books need to be pruned, more files need to be destroyed, and the attic needs to be thoroughly cleaned out.

And on that note, I best be going. Have a lovely Monday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow in the morning.

If We Make It Through December

Sunday, as we slowly transition from Yule season into Carnival, and I have to go back to the office tomorrow. Paul is coming home sometime today–I can’t find his flight schedule, but he usually comes back late in the evening; I may even go to bed before he gets home. Some greeting, right? But I have to get up at six tomorrow morning, he knows that, so I won’t worry about that now. I’ll see him after work when I get home from the office. I didn’t do a whole lot yesterday; I did some chores and ran a couple of errands (it was gorgeous yesterday) and when I got home, wasn’t terribly motivated to do much of anything. I did keep doing some cleaning and organizing and filing at various intervals throughout the day, but there’s still a lot to get done this morning/today. I feel more awake and alive this morning than I did yesterday; perhaps the drinks on Friday night and the walking did wear me out a little bit, even though I wasn’t expressly fatigued. My batteries were a little low, is all. I also have to be careful not to overdo anything because I feel better, you know? I also partly blame it on Sparky, who wanted to sleep in my lap all day, the sweet boy.

I also need to make a new to-do list.

It was surreal yesterday to check in and do my morning blog post and then check the news to see that “Donald the dove” (right, Maureen Dowd? How do you show your face in public, you tragically evil and clearly shameless hateful piece of shit?) had started a war all by himself! And people want to forgive his voters for being conned? No thank you–I’ll carry those grudges to the fucking grave. I am completely incapable of feeling empathy (and I am very empathetic) for the people who joyfully and gladly voted for every last bit of this agenda. Oh no, miss me with your “I didn’t vote for this.” Yes, you fucking did, and you mocked everyone who tried warning you before hand. Where are all those people who told me I was overreacting in 2016? In 2024? You deserve to be reminded of your gleeful ignorance and hateful disrespect every fucking day for the rest of your fucking lives. I sure as fuck didn’t vote for any of this bullshit, yet have to deal with it because YOU wanted to “own the libs.”

NO ONE IS LAUGHING NOW. HAPPY? No? Ever heard the phrase “you reap what you sow”? Well, now you’re reaping what you sowed and you don’t seem very happy with it. Live with the shame and utter humiliation of your public ignorance and stupidity, and you get no sympathy or pity from me–and there will certainly be no forgiveness ever coming from me.

Hope you kept your diapers, ear tampons, and golden shoes! Hillary was only wrong in underestimating how many of you were deplorable pieces of shit. Although, there is something almost comically ironic about the fall of the United States’ experiment in democracy coming from the small hands of an uneducated bigoted pedophile rapist. Well done, white people, well done.

And yet I still have high hopes that this will, all evidence to the contrary, be a good year. I feel weird about that, to be honest; how can I feel positive about the future in the face of all evidence to the contrary? It feels weird to be feeling good about myself and my life, making plans (tentative, as so much is out of my control) and just in general being happy and pleased with myself? I think I have one more year to stay away from conferences and so forth, to continue working on myself and my work and shaping up everything in the directions I want to take, before I return again to the wild world of mystery conferences. I think Bouchercon is in DC for 2027, and so I will probably go to that.

I did watch a lot of videos on Youtube yesterday–some historical stuff (the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt; Cleopatra’s sister1; the Valois dynasty of France), some interviews and reviews of Heated Rivalry, and sports “commentators” on the collapse of Alabama in the play-offs, or the SEC “not being what it was.” I also don’t–and have never–understood the mentality of “my conference is better than yours” arguments; they are pointless beyond any metric beyond winning the championships. The Big Ten has won two in a row, and could be winning a third in a row this year, with three different schools. That’s impressive, indeed. Of course, the SEC did that from 2007-2010 with four different schools…but that’s also the past. One of the biggest problems I have always seen with college football is the polls–because being a brand name is the most important thing with the polls. Ohio State was number one for how long, and how long was Indiana ranked behind them, only for Indiana to beat them? Indiana isn’t a brand like Ohio State or Alabama–although that may be changing now. Preseason polls are meaningless now, just like any polls before the playoff rankings and any bowl game that isn’t a part of the playoffs–which is why you cannot look at bowl results as a metric of conference strength. Many players opt out of the bowl games now because they are meaningless, so bowl teams are often not the same team from the season. Toxic fandom is just another phase of toxic masculinity–and women can be as bad, if not worse, than men.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich and see what all is going on in the world today, before I get back to work on cleaning.

  1. Arsinoë IV has always been of interest to me, as was Cleopatra’s older sister Berenice. ↩︎

Younger Me

Happy New Year, everyone! We made it all the way through 2025, and finally said farewell to yet another shitty year for the world in general. How long will we continue to be hopeful about the promise of this new year? A day? Two? A week? I am not wagering anything on this, mind you; too many times in the last ten years have I thought oh thank fucking God this annus horribilis has ended, only for the new year to be even worse. Definitely not making that mistake again!

Sparky has been a cuddle boy–waaaay more than usual–since Paul left. He sleeps in the bed next to me, curls up on my pillow and goes back to sleep once he lets me know he’s hungry and I need to get up soon. When I am in my easy chair, he either sleeps in my lap or on my chest. Last night when I got home, he was all about being needy, which was sweet. He was in my lap during the entire Miami-Ohio State game (well done, Miami! Woo-hoo! Looks like you deserved to be in the play-offs after all, doesn’t it?), and rode on my shoulders when I went up to bed (I did fall asleep in my chair once the game was over).

It was cold again yesterday and will be again today. I’m going to do chores, read, and have the television on for the football playoffs, but no guarantees here that I will pay attention to any of them. I want to get the downstairs all straightened up, maybe even the upstairs, too–there is, after all, another television in the bedroom–or…I may not do a damned thing. Who knows? It’s a holiday, after all, and why should I actually work on a holiday? I don’t have any deadlines, other than some submission calls I might try to get something ready for; I missed all the December 31 ones I was going to try for (what else is new?) but hopefully, this year I will be better about things like that and will make lists to remind me and get everything organized.

I also forgot to mention, in yesterday’s 2025 round up, probably the best thing I did all year and probably the best thing I’ve done in decades: I was one of the organizing committee members for a fundraising auction to benefit the Transgender Law Center. Not only did we pass our goal, we passed it significantly. I always forget about it because the actual auction was during the same weekend as TWFest/Saints and Sinners, and of course that was also when I started getting sick, so yeah, two years or so of work slips my mind because other things were happening at the same time. I also had a lovely time that same weekend, even as my heath started declining. Anyway, thanks very much to the driving forces on the whole thing from the very beginning (Susie Calkins, Cheryl Head, Ed Aymar, Sandra SG Wong, and Jen Dornan-Fish; I think that’s everyone and if I forgot you, sorry) for including me on this special project, everyone who donated items, and those who bid on things, even those who didn’t win. I also would be remiss in not mentioning those who came into the committee later and did yeoman’s work to make the auction succeed: Robyn Gigl, John Copenhaver, and Brenda Buchanan; if I am forgetting someone, my apologies) The response from the crime fiction community almost made my desiccated heart grow three sizes.

Almost. Let’s not get crazy.

Goals for the new year are the same as they are for every year: getting better organized; be better about my writing career; getting into better physical shape; staying on top of everything; and making a plan for the year and sticking to it. I also need to be more consistent with my newsletter; it was originally intended to be at least once a week, with no more than three per week during a productive one…only now I seem to go a long time without writing one. It grew really nicely this past year, and this was also the year where I separated out daily reports like this from the newsletter and made it about topics I want to do a deeper dive into–there are lots of drafts, of course–which has made things a little bit easier. I also want to work further on myself this year, too–not just the physical stuff; I really need to continue feeding my brain and re-educating myself on everything I am unlearning.

And on that note, I am taking my coffee and a purring kitty to my easy chair, where I will probably spend most of the day with my brain turned off. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I do hope your new year will be marvelous and full of joy.

She’s In Love With The Boy

Tuesday morning, New Year’s Eve Eve, as it were, and Paul is leaving today to visit his family. I don’t much care for it when he isn’t home; maybe the first day or two are kind of nice and quiet and peaceful, but it starts getting on my nerves after a couple of days. It’s also amazing how empty the house seems when he’s out of town. Although, I suppose one day it might be something I’ll have to get used to? I will cross that proverbial bridge when I get to it. So, I will come home to an empty house tonight, and Sparky will glue himself to me for the next six days. There are worse things, I suppose, than cat cuddles on cold nights, and having a little tortie shadow following me around and never letting me out of his sight. I’m glad I only have to work tomorrow–Friday is my work-at-home day still–because he will be very traumatized when I get home after work tomorrow. He’ll not be so bad tonight–he won’t miss Paul until he doesn’t come home tomorrow at all. He really is the sweetest boy, and I’ll have to give him a lot of attention.

Which I do not mind in the least.

I found out yesterday that one of my dearest friends (and biggest supporters) passed away a few weeks ago. She’d been ill for a long time, so I hadn’t seen her in quite some time, because she had low energy and heart issues, and I am a lot (I am). I had actually thought the other day about her and how we needed to get over there to catch up and say hello…too little too late. Heavy sigh. The worst part of getting older is losing loved ones to the angel of death. That was the part I never thought about; I guess I was assuming everyone I loved would outlive me.

Apparently, that’s not going to be the case and I’ll probably wind up living to a hundred. Which would be just my luck, you know? I just keep going on and on, shouting at clouds and forgetting what I went into the kitchen for. Hurray. But I will miss her terribly. Oh, how hard she could make me laugh! And so incredibly smart, too; I loved talking to her about books and movies and television shows we enjoyed. She was a huge mystery fan, as well as holding a PhD in History (I’d jokingly call her “Doc” every once in a while, which she hated–I don’t know why I enjoy teasing people so much; I should probably stop).

Sigh.

But with Paul gone, I can watch some things I’ve been pushing off but meaning to get around to–my re-watch of the Brendan Fraser Mummy movies comes to mind–and there’s no excuse for not being able to get back into reading extensively again. I’m enjoying the two books I’ve started, but am not making much progress. My Noirmas was a complete bust, but I did get to reread The Postman Always Rings Twice, and I have some essays to finish for the newsletter. Noirmas is technically not over until Twelfth Night, January 6th, so I have time to get some of these other choices read before starting my next reading project, whatever it might be. Maybe some non-fiction? I’ve got some awesome non-fiction books on hand; maybe I should dig into those? Nonfiction February? That could be a winner, and I can then extend Noirmas through January.

I also am not certain why I am so focused on projects, but it makes me happy, so there’s that.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely New Year’s Eve Eve, Constant Reader and I shall be back on the last day of 2025!

I really hate his bikini….but the rest is nice, isn’t it?