Tag: The Postman Always Rings Twice

Smoky Mountain Rain

Epiphany! Twelfth Night! Carnival begins! I made groceries on the way home from work last night (we were busy all day), and picked up our first King cake of the season–it may be the last, actually, because Paul was home when I got home from work, and we spent a good portion of the evening getting caught up on everything and making plans. We both want to be healthier this year, and work on getting into better condition. He’s going to start by changing eating habits now; I am going to wait until after Mardi Gras to get started because that will fuck me up with going to the gym and so forth; it always does, and then I can’t get back into it again.

Or maybe I am just delaying working on it because I don’t want to really get started and am procrastinating again. It’s a mystery, as always. (We are interrupting this post to remind Gregalicious that he is not to be self-deprecating or hard on himself in 2026; and this is dangerously close. REBOOT! REBOOT!)

I’ve always loved today’s title song, and one night when I was driving to Kentucky through the Smoky Mountains, it started raining…and I remembered the song and a story popped into my head, about a woman fleeing a crime, heading north on I-75, and stopping at a rest area, where through no fault of her own other than having to pee, pulls into the midst of another crime. I’ve never written the whole story out, either–called it “Smoky Mountain Rest Stop”–but when I was driving up there this last time, one of the problems I had with the unwritten story was security cameras…and there was a rest stop that said NO SECURITY PROVIDED. I made a quick drive through their parking lot and sure enough, no cameras…and I renamed the story “No Security Provided,” which is a MUCH better title1.

I also finished my newsletter review of The Postman Always Rings Twice and got it out of the way; I am working on yet another to send out this weekend (hopefully). I was a little bit done in when I got home last night–not fatigued, but a bit tired–and so never made dinner last night, nor did I do any chores. I got sucked into The Cult of the Real Housewife documentary on HBO, about Mary Cosby from Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. It was…interesting. I still have another episode to go, but am not really sure about it. It’s highly entertaining, and I may have some unconscious bias going on (because I enjoy her on the show), but…I just don’t know. Yes, it is weird she married her grandmother’s widower and had a child with him. But that church is small. How could that fund her extravagant lifestyle, even if it is a cult and they are all giving her every cent of their money and so forth? It seemed like a lot of innuendo without concrete proof of anything; they did use some clips from Bravo, so they had to have permission, right? I’m not sure how that works, but there had to be some cooperation from the network. Curious that no one from Bravo is in it, though–co-stars, Andy Cohen, etc.–other than the clips.

It’s also interesting how many housewives have gotten the documentary treatment. Someday this will all be very fertile ground for a forensic social/cultural anthropologist, or a doctoral thesis: what personality disorders make for good reality television stars? I try not to watch shows that feature (and reward) criminal behavior; and I don’t know that I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mary Cosby’s church is a cult. Maybe episode three will be more damning? I’m not sure its against the law to be a cult? They usually wind up violating other laws, which is usually their downfall–or they all end up dead.

Not good options, are they?

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

I love how the colors of the illuminated stained glass glow in contract to the darkness and shadows

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?

Crazy Arms

Sunday morning and all is calm in the house. I feel good, very well-rested and cheerful, which of course is lovely. The Sparkster let me sleep in till almost eight, and now I am finishing my first cup of coffee and have already had this morning’s slice of chocolate marble swirl coffee cake (can’t imagine why I can’t lose weight, can you?), and am about to get another cup of coffee. I did get some things done yesterday, which is cool, and have more things to do today as well. I have one errand to run later this morning, and I’m going to get that out of the way, come home and get cleaned up and get back into working for a bit. Yesterday was a lovely day. I worked some more on the apartment, and delved even more deeply into my renamed main character in the current work. I’m also going to try writing it in the first person present tense, which is going to be really hard for me. (I tend to always use first person past tense.)

The best part of writing a book is this part–even if a lot of this background work never makes it into the finished part.

I’ve been listening a lot to old Fleetwood Mac albums in the car lately, and while they’ve always been my favorite band of all time–every album is a gem, in its own way–when I go for a while without listening I sometimes forget why they are my favorite band of all time. This past week I was listening to their Christine McVie-less recording from the early aughts, Say You Will, which is really good, but kind of Buckingham Nicks 2.0, really. I also like watching Youtube videos of young people listening to their recordings for the first time, and appreciating the artistry, talent, sound, and production values. Rumours will always be my favorite album of all time, and my favorite album of theirs, but the others are also excellent and merit more listening.

We watched this week’s episode of Heated Rivalry, which was probably the best, and most engaging, episode of the show thus far (I loved episode 3, spoiler alert); the first time I cared whether the main characters were just fuck buddies or a couple slowly falling in love. I still have some thoughts about the show, some quibbles as it were, mostly about relationship roles and the feminization of bottoms, but that can wait till I’ve finished watching the show and review it for the newsletter. (I’m still bitter about the cancelation of Boots, but…they also could have seriously fucked up a second season, so I’m choosing to see this cancelation, evil as it was, as a good thing.)

I did have the college football games on yesterday, but the only one we watched was Miami-Texas A&M, which was the only good game of the day. We turned off the later games to watch other things once it was clear they were not going to be competitive. Despite their blowout losses, good for both Tulane and James Madison for having breakout seasons and making it to the playoffs before a lot of name brand schools did. I don’t know if I’ll watch the quarterfinals or not; I don’t care who wins but I am also not a big fan of any school still left in it–although I always pull for underdogs, so I kind of would like to see Indiana do well–so am not sure.

I did finally finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice yesterday; it’s really a nasty little book, isn’t it? I now can see why it was controversial; for one, it’s told from the villain’s point of view, which may or may not have been shocking to readers in the 1930s. (This particular reread also made me realize I need to delve more deeply into Chlorine and my main character–who he is, what he wants–and very glad I did; this reread was crucial.) Postman also deserves its own newsletter (I need to get some of the others done and out of the way already, don’t I?), where I can talk about this vicious little novella that changed everything in the crime fiction genre (I”m talking out of my ass here, but I would imagine it did challenge the sensibilities of readers conditioned to Christie, Queen, and Sayers, among many others), and its impact on me, both as a writer and a reader. I also generally don’t revisit Postman often; usually I just revisit Double Indemnity and Mildred Pierce, but am very glad I did. It made me see what was wrong with what I had already done on this book.

I also gave my main character a new stage name–because the old one really didn’t work. It was more modern than the weird names movie stars were given in the late 1940s and early 1950s (Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson, Troy Donahue), and so yesterday one of those dopey names came to me as I was cleaning the house; and realized it would work, plus would help define the amorality and narcissism in the character. I will reuse the working name for him in another book, certainly–it’s a good name–but this new one is even better.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. The sun is shining outside (it’s gorgeous out, just as it was yesterday), and I still have some things to do this morning. I’m going to start reading the new Eli Cranor. methinks, while also revisiting a classic juvenile series mystery from one of my favorite juvenile series. I also have some short stories I want to work on, too. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning before I head in for my last two work days before Christmas.

The gift where they meant well, but didn’t think about the cost-feeding, clothing, cleaning up after him, etc.

Turtles All The Way Down

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. I also only have to work Monday and Tuesday of next week, so I pretty much have a rather lengthy vacation with a two-day work break. Yay! It’ll be nice to relax and recharge and hang out with the boys and make progress on everything, sleep as late as Sparky will let me…woo-hoo!

Yesterday was a busy day in the clinic–the afternoon, at any rate–but I stayed on top of most everything somehow. Today should be somewhat easier, and I can get caught up on the few things I am behind on (mostly Admin work, processing paperwork from yesterday) before the stay-at-home day and my weekend. I feel pretty good this morning (more sleep would be lovely, but isn’t necessary) and am in a pretty decent mood. I didn’t do a lot yesterday when I got home from work; I went uptown to get the mail after work, which was an adventure because I left the office late. Got some Christmas cards (apologies again, everyone) in the mail, and my Anthropic settlement information. I watched The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City–which was a rather silly episode, but quite fun. I caught up on the news, refused to watch whatever speech that was that aired last night (and from what I am seeing this morning, I didn’t miss anything; so to me at least, it seems like it was nothing more than a distraction from the Vanity Fair disaster and all the other disasters rooted in this administration1), and then did some light picking up and filing before going to bed. I feel rested and good, miraculous for a Thursday, and cannot believe Christmas is a week from today. It was dark when I went uptown last night, and on my way home from Uptown last night I saw a lot of decorated houses, which kind of made me feel Christmasy. We’re getting a new television from Costco as a Christmas gift to ourselves. I don’t feel like we really need a new one, honestly, but the one we have is over ten years old, and Paul has been hankering for a new television, for reasons unknown to me, for several months now. I bought our current one at Target on the West Bank as a Christmas gift for the apartment all those long years ago. I don’t really care about gifts anymore, which has been a conundrum these last years because we don’t really need anything, so we’ve kind of abandoned birthday and Christmas presents. We usually, for example, get Chinese food for our birthdays as a treat, or a pizza from a place that’s inconvenient to go to.

I am hoping to get a couple of newsletters done over the weekend and set to post over a week or so; I need to finish my essays on Laurie R. King’s O Jerusalem, The Princess Bride, and General Hospital, and I have a new essay series I am planning, about my lifelong obsession with all things ancient Egyptian; which will be a lot of fun to write, methinks2. I also need to finish reading The Postman Always Rings Twice, and start my next read over this weekend as well (it’s looking like a toss-up between a Dorothy B. Hughes classic and the latest Eli Cranor). There’s absolutely no reason I can’t get a lot of reading and writing done over the holiday break, as well as cleaning and organizing with plenty of time to be lazy and relax. Staycations are kind of nice, actually. I also don’t think the clinic is busy next week, either; but after New Year’s, YIKES.

I didn’t watch this week’s new episode of Heated Rivalry, but I did see that Netflix canceled Boots, in what can only be seen as a capitulation of the company to the Pentagon, because the Secretary of Alcoholism didn’t think it “properly depicted the Warrior Ethos of the military.” I’d like to see that drunk rapist adulterous piece of shit make it through Boot Camp, and based on every piece of video evidence I’ve seen, that piece of shit can’t even do a pull-up properly. Such a masculine stud! Netflix also wants to acquire Warner Brothers, so they’re dancing around the Administration’s whining bitch-ass complaints. Leavenworth is too good for this piece of shit’s war crimes, and I also think he should be turned over to the Hague. Anyway, I digressed away from the point (because that piece of shit makes my blood boil), which was that a co-worker asked me in the elevator the other morning if I “wrote m/m romance under a different name.” I was a bit taken aback at first, but I just replied no, but kept thinking about it the rest of the day, and it’s popped back into my head any number of times since then.

I’ve not written anything that could be strictly considered romance other than a couple of short stories here and there over the years. I don’t read much romance–my supervisor loaned me an m/m romance novel last year that I still haven’t read, but writing gay romance (or “m/m”, whatever; but there are distinctions) is something that has occurred to me over the years. I do have several ideas for them, but they’re more romantic stories than actually romance. It would be a challenge, I think, but I love challenges and pushing myself to try to write new things I’ve not done before. I do need to read more romances, though, in order to really write a good one. Ever since Charles (shout out to Charles Click!) mentioned this to me the other morning, a sports one has kind of started taking shape in my head–partly because I already wrote an erotic short story about an athlete (who wasn’t a wrestler, LOL) that could easily be adapted to a novel.

Something to think about, anyway. Maybe after Chlorine.

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! From my workspace at home between the windows!

  1. At least we’re not invading Venezuela…yet. Happy with what you voted for, MAGAts? ↩︎
  2. And it gives me the opportunity and excuse to watch The Mummy movies with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz again. ↩︎

East Bound and Down

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boulder to Birmingham

Thursday, and as always, my last day in the office this week. I was a bit tired yesterday after work, and so didn’t run an errand I’d planned, pushing it off till today–and I am not entirely certain I am not going to simply order things on-line and be done with it. I feel good this morning, but who knows how long that will last before I hit my Thursday wall? Last week, I wasn’t tired on Thursday when I got home; will I be lucky two weeks in a row? We’ll have to see. After I got home last night, I got into my easy chair and caught up on the news and The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, and was back watching news while I fell asleep in my easy chair. Paul had a board meeting last night, so Sparky and I were on our own, and he did NOT encourage me to get up and do things. Such a bad influence, really.

There was some interesting news here yesterday–a controversial Mardi Gras krewe’s founder was arrested. I shouldn’t mention this without knowing any of the details, but obviously as a New Orleans crime writer a bogus Mardi Gras krewe with an arrested founder could be very interesting. More on that later, as I am going to read up on the news reports about what is going on with this. I think it’s the Krewe of Mystic Kings, is/was going to roll on January 5th or 6th, and is something our city council president called a scam. Yeah, I am sure there’s a germ of a book in that story, don’t you? I have any number of Carnival crime stories I would love to write.

And where has December gone? How is it the eleventh already, with Christmas a mere two weeks from today? And New Year’s is three? 2025 hasn’t been the best of years, seriously, but I am not going to celebrate the end of a shitty year because inevitably the following year is even worse. Who knows what fresh horror awaits us in 2026? A depression and economic collapse, perhaps? Heavy heaving sigh. I suppose that also means if I don’t get my Christmas cards done this weekend they won’t get done. The suspense!

But I have some plans for the weekend, and I need to update my to-do list. I want to finish reading Postman, I need to write at least one newsletter, and I need to start some writing on Chlorine. I also need to outline it, do character studies, and build my Hollywood world of the 1950s and its gay underground. I also want to start taking boxes out of the attic and getting rid of more things. (As you can tell, I am now fully awake–thank you, coffee–and am raring to go.) It’s nice to be excited about writing again–it’s nice to be excited about life again, despite the world burning to the ground on the daily. It’s just so nice not to be tired all the time anymore, you know? Fatigue is absolutely real, and horrible to experience. I also have labs ordered for tomorrow morning, so I need to be up and at Quest at eight thirty tomorrow morning, which is fine. Right now, I have changed my mind and will make groceries on the way home tonight…but it will really depend on how I feel. I’m by myself in the clinic today and we’re pretty busy, so like yesterday, I may be drained and tired when I get off work. At least the grocery store is on the way home, you know?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a happy Thursday, Constant Reader, and remember–there are only fourteen shopping days left until Christmas!

Pray to Jesus

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, although I suppose it’s Championship Saturday. I’ll have the games on for background noise but I don’t care about their outcomes. If they’re good games, I’ll watch; if not, I can just check in periodically while I do other things. I still need to put things away from yesterday’s Costco run, and some other touching up around here today, while organizing and pulling all my notes together for my new project, which I intend to commit to entirely tomorrow morning once I rise. Sparky let me sleep late this morning like the little darling he is, even cuddling with me the last few hours before I got up. I feel good and rested this morning. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and will inevitably (like always) spend a few more hours at the gym on the bike. I am looking to get back to the gym myself, probably after Mardi Gras. I feel terrific. My doctor agreed with me that I probably had been experiencing the colitis for several years before it finally got so bad this past spring, and was why I experienced so much fatigue. There’s also a possibility that I have “pernicious anemia” (I love the name. Pernicious–such a fun word!), an opportunistic autoimmune situation that sometimes tags along with colitis and causes Vitamin B-12 deficiency…which can affect memory and fatigue, and would require me to get a monthly shot. Yay.

I also have to get labs drawn again this coming Friday–the same day my next Skyrizi injection arrives in the mail.

We started watching Heated Rivalry last night, and I will have thoughts on it once we’ve finished. (And…it’s another one of those newsletter essays that will play into my series about masculinity.) I also caught up on the news last night after unloading the car and heating a pizza up for dinner. I am debating whether or not to watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, since I detest most of the cast and don’t enjoy watching it anymore. It’s not even a fun hate-watch anymore. I also started my reread of The Postman Always Rings Twice, which is so marvelous and nasty and, above all else, working class, that I see why it bothered people so much when it was originally published in the 1930s. It’s also hella racist, which I didn’t remember–which also explains the casting of Lana Turner in the film; no one would ever mistake her for Hispanic/Latino like Cora in the book. I am also very glad that I am rereading it, because it has that edge of nastiness that noir needs, and isn’t currently present in the first three chapters of Chlorine, and while roaming the aisles at Costco yesterday I was thinking about how to rewrite it. My main character is not a hero, and I have to remember that why I write him. That’s a significant mind shift for me when I write, really.

In football news, Tulane won their conference championship last night and are going to the play-offs for the first time in school history, but reports they were hiring LSU’s Brian Baker proved untrue as it was announced Baker would be staying on in Baton Rouge. LSU football is all over the news still down here, indicating a statewide level of excitement for the new coach that wasn’t there for Brian Kelly, ever, other than after that overtime win over Alabama his first year…but that excitement died down very quickly. Ironic that his best season was his first, rebuilding year, isn’t it? I think part of the excitement is joy at being rid of Kelly, frankly. I was willing to give him a chance, but he never really delivered.

At least he broke the streak of losing season openers that has plagued the Tigers this entire decade, and he did beat Alabama in a thriller in 2022. And he signed Jayden Daniels. Three good things out of almost four seasons.

And on that note, I am heading to my chair to read some more of Postman before getting cleaned up and getting to work on the apartment. I am also going to make chicken chili today, and some chicken salad for Paul. A very big day for me! It’s also gray and chilly and supposed to rain all day, too–an excellent day for reading under a blanket with the television on. I may watch an episode of The American Revolution, which I am really enjoying; it’s so nice to see our history without all the myths and legends that sprang up about it after the second world war.

So have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in on you again tomorrow morning, deal?

You Never Even Called Me By My Name

A gray and wet Friday morning here in New Orleans, and it looks to be rainy and wet all day and through tomorrow as well. I have a meeting this morning before I have to see my doctor (maintenance, no complains), after which I have to take Paul to an appointment in Metairie, and we’re stopping at Le Costco on the way home. I slept great last night–rain and cold and a pile of blankets always works– and feel really good and rested this morning. Sparky was a sweet little cuddle-bug this morning, too. It’s nice and warm in the apartment this morning, and my coffee is delightful. I wonder how tired I will be after Costco? I’ll report back on that tomorrow morning. It’s going to cost us a fortune today, too, because we’ve not been in almost a month. But I am very delighted and happy to spend our money at Costco–especially since MAGA is boycotting them yet again, which is, as always,

I lied yesterday morning, unintentionally. I felt both sleepy and tired when I was writing my entry, and my hips did ache a bit as I walked around and climbed the stairs, etc. However, once I’d showered, had a second cup of coffee, and something to eat…that all went away. I wasn’t tired at work–had no trouble staying current on everything–and I was able to come straight home from the office, where I finished the dishes and did still another load of laundry. Go figure, right? The answer is to take a shower when I am dragging when I get up–a lesson I need to learn on the days I am at home, for sure. I also ordered groceries last night, which were delivered. I am looking forward to making chili tomorrow! I did some more collecting of notes for Chlorine–I’ve never had all my notes on it all together in one place, and I think this is absolutely one hundred percent necessary to getting this draft done. It’s kind of fun, honestly, to go back through my journals and see all the notes for books and stories I was writing at the time and other ideas and notes and even essays I’ve started writing in them. I’ll spend some more time with the journals tonight, and probably will get the notes all scanned in the morning tomorrow. I am really excited to dive into writing a book with my full focus and my brain and body functioning properly; it’s been a very hot minute.

I started watching another episode of The American Revolution, but Paul came home shortly after I’d started it, and we watched some of the Grand Prix final for figure skating. I want to finish that at some point this weekend, and I am taking The Postman Always Rings Twice with me to the appointments to read. It’s only 102 pages, so I should be able to get finished with it this evening. I still haven’t totally decided on what my other reads for Noirmas Season will be, but I definitely need to read one of Eli Cranor’s latest; I am behind on him. I know I am going to tackle that Dorothy B. Hughes novel, The Fallen Sparrow, and there’s some other classics on my iPad I may tackle, too. It also dawned on me last night that by making this month about noir, I’ve not been using hunks in Christmas attire for the blog, so I’ll need to rectify that going forward. Just because I am reading noir for Christmas doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Christmas!

I also maliciously smiled this morning about the cold rainy weather–welcome to New Orleans, ICE shitheads! It also is amusing to me that the charges against Luigi Mangione might actually be dismissed because of improper police conduct in their rush to show oligarchs they are more valuable and important than other American citizens. Good.

Sigh. The times in which we live.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I have dishes to put away and laundry to finish before my meeting. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Drink a Beer

Thursday and my last day in the office for the week. Huzzah! It’s supposed to rain heavily and be cold all through the weekend, which means trying not to leave the house that often. But..it should be cozy for cuddling with Sparky and blankets and reading, and I do have a lot of reading to do. Conference championship games are this Saturday, and I don’t really care about any of them. They really are kind of pointless with the play-offs and the goofy no divisions in major conferences any more, so yes–chores and reading and writing are my goal for the weekend. I think I am going to make potato leek soup, or white bean chicken chili–its the perfect time of year for that kind of sustenance. I love soup weather. Dad and I had lunch at a chili place in Kentucky, which was a very pleasant surprise. Paul doesn’t like red chili, though, but I can most definitely make some white bean chicken chili. One nice thing about this cold spell–Sparky has taken to sleeping in the bed with us all night, rather than just sleeping in my desk chair or the bed we have for him by the fireplace (he wouldn’t use it upstairs) and coming up in the mornings before my alarm goes off. He sleeps in a puddle by my feet, but when Paul’s here alone when its cold, he cuddles with Paul and sleeps beside his pillow.

I’m feeling a bit tired this morning, but I forgot to set my alarm and woke up at the right time anyway, which was nice. My hips ache a little bit, and my body could happily return to the pile of blankets and the warmth of my bed. Tomorrow I get to work at home and go to. meetings in the morning, but in the late morning/early afternoon I have doctors’ appointments so will need to use some sick time, I guess. That’s fine, too. We’re going to Costco tomorrow after all the appointments, which is terribly overdue. I think I’ll make that chili this weekend for sure. It’s also nice to support Costco, because of all the DEI and worker-friendly policies and the current lawsuit against the criminal administration and its horrific policies. I got some Christmas presents in the mail that I’d ordered as well on the way home yesterday. I was terribly tired when I got home last night, but I finished the laundry and put away the dishes. I still have a sink full of dishes to deal with when I get home tonight, but I also am hoping that I won’t just be so tired I’ll go straight to my chair and the news. We started watching a CNN documentary last night–New Orleans Soul of the City, the first episode dealing with the city’s food culture. It was interesting and informative, especially since I am in the process of starting a new Scotty, too. There are three more episodes, too.

We’re going to be a bit busy today in the clinic, and I am working by myself, which is okay. I am current on all my administrative work, and I think the appointments end in the mid-afternoon, so I have time to get caught up on today’s work before coming home. Huzzah! I so much prefer to be caught up on everything by the end of the week, so I can go in on Monday with nothing hanging over my head. I am not surprised I am worn down this morning–I mean, I drove almost twenty four hours last week–and I think it’s cool that I made it through this week without experiencing exhaustion or fatigue. Huzzah!

I also want to get caught up on the newsletter. I have reviews of both the Hiaasen and King novels to write, and I also need to dig into The Postman Always Rings Twice–it’s very short, and shouldn’t take me long to revisit it. I worked on gathering everything Chlorine-related some more last night, which entails finding all my notes in my journals over the years. Ideally, Saturday I can do chores, make the chili, read the book, and finish gathering everything so that Sunday morning I can start serious work on this first draft. I think I never got past the third chapter because subconsciously I was aware that what I started didn’t work and wouldn’t work as I wrote more, which would mean going back and redoing, and I hate that kind of thing. Better to catch it now before it involved a shit ton of unraveling, right? I also think I am going to do Christmas cards this weekend–but we’ll see how that goes, won’t we?

I also think my creativity has been in overdrive these last couple of months because I am getting ready to commit to writing another book–and now that I am focusing in on what I want to write, that all-over-the-place creativity is beginning to hone in, which is also super-cool.

And on that note, it has started raining so I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a glorious Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be here bright and early before my meeting tomorrow!

An artist’s rendering of a very sexy Egyptian god Anubis, who was my favorite, along with Bastet, in the Egyptian pantheon.

All You Ever Do Is Put Me Down

Tuesday morning and I didn’t spring out of bed joyously this morning, but I feel pretty okay this morning. I slept well, just wanted to sleep longer. It rained heavily last night, which was nice–you know I love me some rain when I am safely inside and warm and comfortable. The rain was supposed to bring cold weather with it, but it’s only 51 this morning, which isn’t that terrible. My whole attitude towards cold weather is changing, isn’t it? I didn’t mind the cold in Kentucky–it was bitterly cold on Thanksgiving; my windshield froze over while I was at my sister’s–so what on earth is happening to me? #madness, indeed. Granted, it wasn’t at zero or even close to it; that, methinks, would be an entirely different story.

I did find my copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice last night, and that opening line–“They threw me off the hay truck about noon”–is such a great opening. I think the other noirs I am going to read this month will include The Falling Sparrow by Dorothy B. Hughes1, another Jim Thompson novel (I have several on-hand), a Silvia Moreno-Garcia modern neo-noir, and maybe some short stories, and/or a Cornell Woolrich novel. The well (or TBR pile, you choose) is very deep in the Lost Apartment. I also have to write my reviews of O Jerusalem and Fever Beach for the newsletter, too. Sigh. So much to write, so little time in which to do it all, y’know? But that just means I need to go back to my OCD organization and to-do lists so I can get things done.

I also managed to go over the edits and copy edits of Hurricane Season Hustle, so it is finished for me other than the page proofs. I also got a short story I sent to an anthology a few months ago back with its edits, which is also kind of cool. I always love to sell a short story, you know? I am more confident with my novels than I ever can be with my short stories, and I was thinking last night as I sat in my chair watching The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City that I may try something different when it comes to writing short stories, but I’ll inevitably always fall back on my usual way of doing things. I think we’re going to be busy in the clinic this morning, which will keep me hopping all day. I have to stop again at the store to make some groceries on my way home tonight, and the kitchen is a mess, and I have another load of dishes to unload so I can wash the ones in the sink and run the dishwasher again and the household chores never end, do they? I have measured my life by washing dishes, or something like that.

I was able to leave work early yesterday (Friday was a paid holiday for eight hours; I usually put in about four on a normal work-at-home Friday, so had to shave some time off yesterday. No, I never over-explain, do I?), and so ran by the Fresh Market on the way home and also ordered groceries for delivery. I got home and finished the laundry, put the dishes away and ran another load through the dishwasher. I got caught up on the news and have reached the point where I just shake my head in bewilderment, sadness, and disgust. Heavy heaving sigh. Is there now a light at the the end of the tunnel of horrors? One can only hope, but this dismantling of our institutions and eroding of trust in them has been –and continues to be–nothing more than a disgrace.

Our new LSU football coach, Lane Kiffin, arrived in Baton Rouge yesterday to a cheering crowd at the airport and people lined up along the drive from there to the campus. Controversy about the move continues to swirl, driven by the so-called “talking heads” who know absolutely nothing but somehow think they’re relevant? Dad and I talked about how useless and stupid so many of them are nowadays–“professional bull-shitters,” is what Dad calls them, and accurately–but they have to talk and weave and bullshit in order to earn their ridiculous salaries. I don’t care what you think about this, just as I don’t really care about anything you think, really. And all the unctuous moralizing by trash like Stephen A. Smith and Colin Cowshit and all the rest of the idiots? Spare me. All you are doing is enhancing the victim complex LSU fans and Louisiana residents already have, and they’ll just circle the wagons and it just endears Kiffin to the fans and residents here all the more. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s buddies with Coach O, either. They are billboards and signs all over the state welcoming him.

I do not remember any of that happening for Brian Kelly, mind you.

So, we’ll see how this new era of LSU football will work out for us. Everyone here is excited, as I said, and I am optimistically hopeful but cautious.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for this fine Tuesday morning. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday tomorrow morning.

Pharaoh Thutmose III, successor to the female pharaoh Hatshepsut
  1. Also a book with a fantastic first line. ↩︎