Love’s a Hard Game to Play

Saturday in the Lost Apartment and a lovely weekend to be sure–despite the time change tomorrow, which I always hate–and I had a lovely night’s sleep, actually. I actually slept late this morning, which is wild; not arising from the pile of blankets and comfortable bed until almost nine thirty this morning. Progress, though, is thinking I must have needed more sleep rather than bashing myself for oversleeping. Sparky was also a sweetheart this morning and let me sleep until his hunger overcame him and he whimpered at me, making me open my eyes and look at the clock and think oh, need to get up, don’t I? I feel good this morning, if a bit foggy because the coffee hasn’t started kicking in yet, either. My plan for today was to take it easy and do more chores around reading (and yes, probably some time spent with The Traitors) since I didn’t get everything done yesterday that I wanted to–but the dishes and the laundry are finished. I need to run a brief errand today, too–a quick run by the Fresh Market on the way home from picking up the mail–and then I will be back home for the rest of the day. It was gorgeous outside yesterday as I ran from doctor’s appointment to doctor’s appointment (everything went well, all my vitals and so forth are okay, my blood pressure excellent, etc–always lovely news to hear, you know? Today looks gorgeous, too, which is pretty great; I think the cold is behind us now and it’s a steady march to our brief spring before the horrors of the summer heat return again.

Yesterday was mellow, honestly. I got up, got cleaned up, had my meeting and did some at-home work before i had to start the round of appointments. When I got home from all of that I started cleaning, while watching The Traitors when I took a little break. I also had some creative moments during the day, coming up with several short story ideas while my hands were busy but my mind free, and of course, Sparky imprisoned me for my lap so he could nap for several hours, but I still managed to get a lot of things done while trying not to disturb him; which I don’t get, he’ll just go back to sleep after giving me a groan and serious side-eye but why do I always feel guilty about waking him up? He really is a sweet boy, despite all the scabs and scars on my hands and arms from his claws. I also need to spend some time icing my Achilles tendons, which are still sore but it’s at least bearable now and I can walk normally again, thank God. Tomorrow will be my ambitious day, where I finish the things I didn’t get to today while writing and reading. I really need to finish my newsletter, and get it sent out.

I also definitely need to do some filing and organizing, and I need to find an old contract, too, and I need to find my to-do notebook, which I’ve not been able to look at this week because I didn’t know where it was (other than it not being in my backpack, where it belongs and should always stay) so I can add some things and cross off what I managed to get done this week. Starting the week off being sick really discombobulated me, and I never felt like I got my feet into the groove of the week. I hate that it’s so easy to throw me off and so hard for me to get back on track when my routines are disrupted.

I started season 2 of the UK Traitors yesterday, and it is really interesting how you quickly become involved with the cast, forgetting about the previous season’s in a matter of moments. I do think I like the UK host better than Alan Cumming; Claudia cheers them on during the challenges, and seems genuinely interested in them winning the challenges and adding money to the final prize. Thank you for putting up with this obsession of mine; I should stop talking about it and simply keep watching so I can write about the show for my newsletter.

And on that note, I am going to repair to my easy chair to catch up on the news before today’s errands are to be run. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning with the time change. Ugh.

Gorgeous door frame sculpture in Florence, one of my favorite places in the world

Maybe Love Will Change Your Mind

Work at home Friday, with the sun up and bright and the sky is clear and blue–almost cerulean, if you like–and I feel pretty good. I was very tired when I got home from work yesterday afternoon, and despite my best intentions I didn’t get anything done last night other than providing a lap for Sparky and finishing season one of The Traitors UK. Are you tired of my latest obsession yet? Paul isn’t quite as obsessed as I am, of course, and he finds my passion for the show a little amusing. But what can I say? It’s an absolutely delightful escape from the world and its assorted horrors; and it makes me happy and helps me relax. And we need to find joy in the world when there is so much trying to tear us all down and make us miserable. Joy feels like resistance, nourishing my soul so I can face the horrors of each and every day, and the more joy we find, the less likely the bastards are to win.

I think there was some excellent news with the removal of Kristi Noem (aptly namedKristi Lynn Arnold Noem (KLAN) from Homeland Security after all the taxpayer funded waste so she can, among other things, fuck Corey Lewandowski in the air to her heart’s content. Remember draining the swamp? How quaint that old demagogue slogan sounds now, doesn’t it? Almost like America First. And yet people still support this criminal gang that are looting the country and driving the national debt through the roof and up into the sky–it’s orbiting Pluto now, and about to break free and head for Sirius. I love how Democrats are the people who supposedly waste our tax dollars, while their God-emperor just steals from us with both hands. She’s being replaced by Markwayne Mullin, who sounds like a character from Green Acres, or a villain from an old Burt Reynolds caper movie. He’s another short man with a Napoleon complex (see Greg Bovino, Dan Bongino, Joe Rogan, etc.) who thinks he’s a lot tougher than he actually is–mainly because being short everyone else has to punch down to hit him. What nonsensical shit he’ll get up to–he’s as bad, if not worse, than Secretary KLAN–she’s just stupid and useless; I think he is stupid and evil–and God forbid, sees this as his ticket to higher office. Although Oklahoma could do the funniest thing and elect a Democrat to replace him…won’t happen; Oklahoma is too far gone into their hatred and bigotry and self-righteous white victimhood to send such a message to Washington; his replacement in the Senate will most likely be even worse.

I’ve also been loving the Reich-wing excuses and justifications for this insane and illegal war in the Middle East that we’ve started; I think my favorite was “we’ve been at war with Iran for forty-seven years!” Then why was the Reagan administration selling them arms to fund the Contras in Nicaragua, because that was definitely aid and comfort to the enemy and Oliver North should have been executed? See how easy that was? They are lying to us about everything, and I can’t imagine with our bases being hit how we’ve not had more casualties than what they’ve admitted to–you know, the “suckers and losers” he has referenced numerous times in the past.

I am also kind of angry about some other things–namely, the Texas Democrat need to vote for anyone other than the qualified and definitely battle-tested Black woman for the “new great white hope” from Texas (anyone remember Beto, or whatever his name was? Whatever happened to him?), who also doesn’t believe in Medicare for all and has anyone really dug into his reproductive freedom stance, or queer rights? No offense, but after being betrayed by the faux-progressive campaign stances of grifting trash like Kyrsten Sinema or John Fetterman, forgive me if I don’t climb right up on that train–and neither do Black Texas voters. His surrogates were not above using racism and misogyny to smear and slander Ms. Crockett, and his campaign did nothing–and no one on our side of the aisle should ever be okay with that kind of bullshit, especially one led by a Christian. I also saw some horrific racism on-line yesterday from white Texas gays–we’re never beating the allegations, guys, until you examine your fucking privilege–which led to a lot of blocking. Being marginalized doesn’t give you carte blanche to oppress other marginalized people. You can’t keep going to the Black community–especially Black women–for money, volunteers and votes when you consistently reward their hard work with racism, and of course the pro-genocide slander was right there for racists to use–and then “we need to rally behind the candidate!” Without the Black community, no Democrat will hold national office ever again. So maybe, white Democrats, take a moment and think about who you are driving away from the polls. If Black Texans don’t turn out in November, that seat stays MAGA. So, the Talarico people need to start making amends for their bullshit, stat. Hilarious how the same people who couldn’t bring themselves to vote for Jasmine Crockett were cheering her congressional takedown of KLAN the very day they couldn’t bring their anti-Black asses to vote for her the day before. “We love you! Way to go! But we’re not going to send you back to Congress, sorry!”

Seriously, and the racist white gays? You’re an embarrassment and a disgrace. It even looks like you’d vote against your own rights rather than vote for a Black candidate, and then you wonder why the Black community doesn’t trust or support us? Get the FUCK out of here. The Republicans didn’t want her on the ticket. SO what the fuck does that tell you, you stupid fucking assholes.

I was also alerted to a lovely Youtube review of Hurricane Season Hustle yesterday by Google alerts. Check it out!

Gorgeous Max Parker from last summer’s Netflix hit, Boots, which was cancelled because the Pentagon was pouty about gays in the military, the snowflakes.

Just Like a Woman

Thursday, and my last day in the office for the week. I am feeling so much better than I did over the weekend and the first few days of this work week and also am feeling a bit more centered than I have since that morning last Monday when there was no water pressure and we were in a boil water advisory. I wound up spending all of last week off-balance, got sick over the weekend (I was coming down with it on Friday evening, and it peaked on Sunday and Monday, with some left over on Tuesday when I went back to the office), and now I finally feel more like myself. Thank God, right? It was so lovely waking up this morning without a head full of snot and a sore throat and post-nasal drip *shudder*. Tomorrow morning I have a meeting in the morning and then have doctors’ appointments in the afternoon, and we do need to go to Costco. I’m not sure how this weekend will turn out–productive or restful, or some combination of the two. I’ve not done any chores these past couple of days, and I really should take care of them tonight so I don’t have to come down to a messy kitchen/office space again, and there’s some laundry I should also get done. It’s always so tempting to sit in my chair and catch up on the news before watching more of The Traitors (yes I am obsessed with that show, and I am revisiting things that spark joy in me–anything Alysa Liu or Amber Glenn related, anything Heated Rivalry, anything Ilia Malinin and US women’s hockey, too) with Sparky not helping matters any by sleeping in my lap.

Obviously, it doesn’t take much to kick me off-track, does it? It was lovely to finally feel good again yesterday, and I feel like I should point out that my Achilles tendons are doing much better. The left is fine, but the right is still a bit tender and tight, so will ice it again thoroughly tonight and periodically over the weekend. I want to start stretching again too. The Achilles tendon issue has delayed my return to working out and exercise, but there’s no reason I can’t start stretching again before I feel up to returning to the gym.

I remembered something over the weekend that I’d completely forgotten about, and once I did, I stewed about it for a few days before deciding what I wanted to do. If you will recall, my close friend Victoria died about a year ago, and she left me a gift in her will, which was an absolute shock. I signed the letter from the probate attorney and forgot about it. His office contacted me on Friday that the estate has been probated and I would be getting the gift in a short amount of time, which was a lovely surprise. But this weekend when I was moving things around I came across copies of a book I wrote that I completely forgot about, which is wild to me. In 2009 or 2010, Victoria decided she wanted to start a small press for diverse children’s and young adult fiction. I wasn’t sure it was a great idea–2009 and 2010 weren’t a good time in publishing; this was during the indy/trad author wars, when ebooks were really changing the entire industry–but she knew I had written a couple of young adult manuscript in the earl 1990s and they were collecting dust in a drawer (we’d talked about this when I met the y/a editor from a major press who was familiar with my work and wanted me to submit a manuscript–but Katrina happened and I let that opportunity slip through my grasp), and she wanted to publish one of them (the other two were Sleeping Angel and Sara, which I sold to Bold Strokes). They weren’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything with any of them, so I thought, knowing the odds of me making any money off it were slim to none, but…she was my friend and I wanted to help her out, so I let her publish Sorceress. Like I said, though, it wasn’t a good time to be launching a traditional publishing company (she hated ebooks), and I didn’t worry about it. I promoted the book the best I could, but have no idea how well it sold, if it sold at all, because I never got a sales statement or a royalty check–but I want to be very clear about this: I loved Victoria and I didn’t care. She had wanted me to write a sequel, which I did a first draft of, but never revised or anything. I never brought it up, she never brought it up, and I had no desire to make her feel bad or guilty about it, so why bring it up? People I know who did read it liked it–it was my first real stab at writing Gothic suspense/horror–but like I said, I gave it to her freely with the full expectation of never seeing a cent.

But now that she’s no longer with us (at least once a day I miss her still) I kind of would like to have the rights to it back, and maybe revise it and put it up as an indy book. (I know, I have to get Jackson Square Jazz up and going, too.) And since she left me a gift, why not use that gift to get these two books–and my next short story collection–up independently? But what about the sequel? It’s not necessarily tied to the first book–different characters, for one–but the same California mountain town (same as Sleeping Angel, too). Anyway, it’s something to ponder.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a marvelous Thursday, and I’ll be back in the morning yet again!

Jane

Tuesday and feeling somewhat better this morning. I just hate the whole head congestion thing, along with the scratchy throat and phlegmy cough. Not a fan–but are there people who like being sick? I suppose there are; anything you think is too outrageous for people to be into is more about your own naivete, really. It was smart to not go into the office yesterday–I don’t remember if I mentioned it yesterday or not, but I got up early and was sick, so I called out for the day. Sniffling, sneezing and coughing while working in a clinic? Not wise. I do feel much better this morning, and hope to make it through the day. I feel rested, which is always best, and a good night’s sleep definitely helped. I watched more of Season 1 of the UK Traitors (the OG, if you will)–it’s fun; every day people and it is the first season ever, so you can see how they learned to make the show better as they went. This first group didn’t have a clue about the game going in–everyone in every season later had a season to watch to get a grasp of how it works, so for this group, everything catches them by surprise–the challenges remain similar, with slight alterations per season. Sparky slept in my lap most of the day, which was also lovely, so overall, outside of feeling awful–I hate when my joints ache and my eyes water–it wasn’t too terrible.

I also tried for a bit to catch up on the news, but it was all so depressing I couldn’t bear it for terribly long. To heal my brain and soul from that horror, I spent some time looking at fan videos about the Heated Rivalry boys. For whatever reason, they–and their friendship–just please me endlessly. It’s always lovely when new stars explode into the night sky, isn’t it? I don’t know if we are conditioned to love rags-to-riches stories or if it’s organic within our psyches, but it’s so lovely to see two talented young men who were waiting tables a year ago become two of the most beloved actors on the planet, isn’t it? I remember seeing that video, where they were going to crash the viewing party at a gay bar in West Hollywood, and were worried no one would recognize them…of course, everyone did and loved and welcomed them, which was so nice. They genuinely seem like level-headed young men who are just as shocked as anyone they’ve blown up the way they did, and also seem to be very appreciative of it all. I do remember how it felt to publish my first book, to be considered a peer by other authors, and my first interactions with people who’d read my book. Mine wasn’t even remotely close to what they are experiencing, and it just brings me joy to see them (along with some of the Olympic athletes) enjoying the unexpected ride. I don’t think they’ve had much time to process anything–it literally blew up overnight–but I hope they never lose that sense of “is this really happening to me” that is so much fun to watch.

The primary war between Senator Bill Cassidy and “liberal” (as if) Julia Letlow continues to be entertaining, if tedious. Letlow’s finally dug her heels in and started throwing mud back at Cassidy–mainly, his vote to impeach their foul lord and master–and while it is fun watching MAGA Republicans turning on each other, you can only see those ads so many times before they become boring and old and tired. I do find it interesting that Letlow’s voice-over actor is a man, while Cassidy’s is a woman. It’s interesting to me that they use a differently gendered voice to smear their opponent, and what does that mean? Since Letlow is a woman, they need to have a man attack Cassidy, and vice versa? Is there some sexism/misogyny at play here? Is it because its “ungentlemanly” for Cassidy to attack a woman, so they hired a woman voice over actor? Likewise, does using a male voice for Letlow’s ad mean to convey strength–“I may be a woman, but here’s a man to make my case for me”? It also sent me down a wormhole of wondering who these voice actors are, and if there’s a playbook for political voice actors–“stress this word, draw out that one, lower your voice here” and so on. I wonder if there are more of these style voice actors (“running a racist campaign? Have we got the woman voice actor for YOU”) or if it’s just this man and woman doing them for everyone…and it does make you wonder a bit about the voice actors, doesn’t it?

I think me getting sick–Paul was sick last week, and undoubtedly passed it on to me as he recovered–was kind of a good thing, in a weird way. I don’t really recall having anything else wrong with me the last few years other than the big things–which kind of took up all of my head space–but I honestly don’t remember the last time I dosed myself with DayQuil before this past weekend, which is kind of a good thing? I have to remember, always, that my immune system is compromised, thanks to the ulcerative colitis, and the medication I take for it also makes me more prone to infection, and so I need to be a lot more careful about being exposed to things when I am out and about. So, getting this first cold or whatever it may be was an excellent reminder to be careful–although there’s not much I can do when Paul brings something home to me, is there?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning!

Screenshot

Docklands

Work at home Friday and I have to go get labs drawn this morning before my doctor’s appointment next Friday. So I can’t have anything to eat, and just black coffee before. No thanks. I’ll make a cup of coffee in a go-mug and take it with me, and once my blood is drawn I will start slurping it down.

Okay, I went and am back and am finally on my first cup, which is wonderful, I have to say. It started raining on my short drive over to Quest, and I was in and out in less than fifteen minutes. On my way home, it started pouring, so I got very wet getting from the car to the apartment and it was kind of fun. It’s still rainy and very gray outside, which is one of those lovely days for staying inside and being cozy, you know? I have a meeting this morning, and work-at-home duties as always, but I want to get some chores done and maybe some reading and writing, if the rain holds.

I was tired when I got home from work, making a bit of groceries on the way, but I still managed to get some things done. I emptied the dishwasher and refilled it (it’s running now), did a load of clothes, and worked on the kitchen while waiting for Paul to get home so we could watch the season 4 finale of The Traitors (which was fun, but more on that at another time), so I don’t have quite as much work on the house to get done today and tomorrow. Huzzah! I also know there’s a part of my brain–controlled by medication now, but it’s definitely there–that doesn’t let me write when my apartment isn’t up to my personal code; because if there’s any excuse to not write I will always jump on it. Now, I’m just not as aware of it as I used to be, if that makes sense? Now I just think oh, maybe not today and there’s always tomorrow but then tomorrow comes and I don’t want to, anymore. I actually had the thought this week–after dealing with my taxes–you know, I wouldn’t have to do this if I didn’t write anymore but that intrusive thought was quickly followed by yeah but as long as books are in print you’ll be getting royalties to be taxed on and what the hell will I do with myself if I stop? I also had an errant thought about how much I dislike the marketing side of writing (I always feel like a sideshow freak hawking snake oil), which was also one of those “for real for real” moments; but I have no choice. I am a compulsive writer, and sometimes it seems like I need a contract to make a project seem real enough for me to actually do it, you know?

There’s no better motivator than a looming deadline!

Hmm, it looks like it’s getting lighter outside so maybe this rain has passed. It wasn’t really much, maybe enough to stop the wildfires in the swamps and wetlands in the east if we were lucky (this year’s fire isn’t nearly as bad as it has been in previous years, where you can smell and almost taste the smoke). We’re in that weird post-Carnival pre-festival season weather window, where it can turn on a dime–damp and cold one day, gorgeous and hot the next, which is the time most locals have sinus and some kind of crud issues. My coffee also seems to be kicking in and I feel pretty good, to be honest. My head is clearing, and once I finish this and my meeting I am probably going to get cleaned up and get started on some work. I am going to run my errands tomorrow–parking in the neighborhood is always an issue during week days–since I have books to take to the library sale. LSU Gymnastics is also hosting Alabama tonight, so that takes care of tonight’s television entertainment (I do have to say, though, if you’ve not watched any of The Traitors, it’s a highly entertaining show and the absolute perfect escape for these times–watching it alongside the Olympics was highly enjoyable.)

And now, I think I am going to get another cup of coffee and make breakfast. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back again tomorrow morning.

Fitness influencer Polo Marin

Destiny

Thursday and my last day in the office this week, praise Jesus. It’s not been my best week, what with the insomnia and tiredness. It’s kind of ironic that after finally getting past the endless fatigue of the past few years, and finally getting excellent sleep for months…that the insomnia has come back. I think it’s over-caffeination, frankly–lots of coffee these last few days, which wasn’t smart; yesterday morning I really felt the effects. Not to mention the endless irritation that social media has become, with bots flooding feeds with racism, misogyny, homophobia, and the most disgusting ableism and infantilization of people with people with medical conditions that I despair of this world and start rooting for the meteor strike–failing that, any extinction event on this planet would probably be a boon to the rest of the universe. I think maybe my weariness at this insane dumpster fire we’re living through might be seeping into my soul.1 I won’t let the bastards win, though–and if they send me to a camp, well, I’ll be defiant until they kill me.

I’m not, and never will be, a good little German.

And I did sleep better last night. I feel better this morning, if my legs are a bit tired. I definitely hit a wall yesterday afternoon after lunch, and was so tired that I thought it was Thursday by the end of the day. I ran an errand on the way home and had groceries delivered, and I also did some chores and picked up a bit before collapsing into my easy chair with Sparky for the evening. We finished off Season 3 of The Traitors–so much traitor on traitor violence!–and did not see that ending coming at all. Maybe when the show has been around longer, and people are more familiar with it and how it works, the players will watch past seasons and catch the patterns and shifts in how people inevitably end up going along with other people when they can’t make up their own minds–or how easily people can be manipulated and steered, which is part of its appeal, I think, and when the players talk about learning lessons about themselves from playing, I can totally see that. We at home viewers can roll our eyes at players being deceived, or making insane leaps of logic, often outsmarting themselves in the process–but we also aren’t there, and we are only being shown bits and pieces of their days and their interactions–and it is possible to bond very quickly with people when you’re completely immersed in a group with no outside contact–like fraternity hell weeks, or boot camp–and it’s also a very good lesson in how perceptive and intuitive you are–as well as making you doubt yourself. The finale of season 4 airs tonight, and we shall see if Alabama Rob can pull it off with his sweet demeanor, blue eyes, and prettiness.

Never trust a pretty Southern boy from rural Alabama. Just sayin’.

The hockey mess continues, and the Olympic players keep digging themselves in deeper, and the NHL and the teams aren’t helping matters at all, either. Every social media post gets ratioed, and apparently they are hoping to ignore it till the season ends and hope it all goes away before next season. That’s how ignorant they are in their misogyny; they don’t understand women in the least. Women are, as a general rule, incredible in their ability to maintain a grudge (I admire that because I am similar). I sure as hell carry grudges to the grave with me. I’ve been to Colorado exactly twice in my life since they passed anti-gay legislation decades ago; it has since been repealed an Colorado is mostly blue now…but I still won’t spend my money there, and my visits were work-related. I just mentally crossed Colorado off my list of places to visit, and never thought about it again. Likewise, I am not too keen on ever doing anything to help Florida economically, either. When I visit my family over in Panama City Beach-which is rare–I buy gas before I cross the state line into Florida, and make sure I wait till I cross it again on the way home. Any little bit I can do to not help their economy, I am so there.

But it looks like the women’s team–and all the women medalists–are going to have a massive celebratory party in Las Vegas thrown by Flavor Flav, and companies are stepping up to participate or sponsor it. Hope those cold double cheeseburgers and Aquafina water bottles (warm, I’ll bet) and ketchup packets in that back-ass tacky conference room was so much better than anything the women will experience in Las Vegas–and the women are also getting a lot of endorsement deals. The men’s accomplishment is forever stained and tainted by allowing themselves to be used as political props for a pedophile who hates women. Job well done, assholes. The “honor” of a White House visit? There’s no honor in being used like that, and then lapping it up as you lick the very boots of the monster who is stealing your glory and using it to prop his unpopular ass up. This will haunt you until the days you die…because the Internet is forever and if you think the women players are going to forget how you pissed all over the “friends” you pretend to “support”?

But no worries guys–there’s always prostitutes and gold-diggers to fuck. And as for the NHL’s so-called “Girl Dad” campaign? It’s kind of abhorrent now that we know those dads are okay with the sex trafficking of children. That’s a very specific version of utter ick.

Ugh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great day, and I will be here again tomorrow!

  1. Those of you thinking the next election will change things, may I direct you to the elections of 2008 and 2020? ↩︎

Rose Garden

Good morning! I’m feeling good this morning after a lovely evening of sleep and an even lovelier day of doing very little. I must confess I did feel a bit on the guilty side last evening when I went up the stairs and slid under the covers; but the way I feel this morning makes me think that it was a very good thing that I took a rest day, really. Paul also took a rest day–he wore himself out with a couple of all nighters–and so things were quiet and calm around here all day. I had intended to only sit for a moment and ice my ankles, but Sparky curled up into my lap and I put on season 2 of The Traitors, Paul came downstairs and got under the blankets on the couch…and that’s primarily what I did yesterday: binge-watched The Traitors all the way through the reunion. I have figured out how they keep us hooked and watching–all those cliffhangers and twists and turns–because every time the credits roll I have to see what happened. Paul’s been calling me an addict all week, but yesterday he was the one with the “We have to see who they killed” or “start the next one so we find out if the recruit said yes” and finally I said, “yes, but I’m the addict” and we had a marvelous laugh. We finished up the second season around eleven thirty, but “had to start the third” to see who was in the cast.

I don’t think I’ve been this involved in a show in quite some time? Certainly not a reality show, in any case. We also want to watch the Tyra documentary on Netflix because we used to marathon America’s Next Top Model when they would do marathons on some network–I want to say Bravo but I know that’s wrong–Bravo was our go-to for marathons of The West Wing and Law and Order back in the day. We gradually stopped watching–some of the stuff they did on the show made me uncomfortable, honestly–so I am interested in watching. I knew the show had to be a train wreck behind the scenes, because well, Tyra Banks, and I’d also like to watch the one about The Biggest Loser–a show I never watched because (blech) Jillian Michaels (vomit), plus I worked in fitness for nearly ten years, so I knew, just from the commercials, that it wasn’t good for the contestants and no one seemed to be concerned about their safety, physical and mental. I’ve also never watched any of the romance ones (although I loved the fictional show unReal) because it just seemed…I don’t know, absurd; at first they seemed cringy to me–“who wants to go on television to find a life partner?”–but there’s an audience for them apparently. (Also, I found out it incredibly insensitive and insulting that “marriage equality” was undermining the sanctity of marriage while straight people not only mocked marriage with these shows but made it blatantly obvious how little the actual undermining of the sanctity of marriage truly bothered anyone; it was just the usual homophobic trash with a cross up their ass…and that’s not even mentioning adultery and divorce…)

Sigh. The hypocrisy of the straights never ceases to surprise me.

I did spend some time yesterday cleaning the boxes of books off the top of the cabinets. I have two more to go; it was difficult with the Achilles tendons tightness to climb up and down the ladder, but I also cleared off the top shelf in the pantry for this contents of these boxes. The kitchen is a mess–a bad one, at that–so I am going to spend some time on that this morning when I finish this. I would like to read and do some writing, too, but I am also not going to beat myself to death if I don’t. I feel good this morning but I do need to ice the ankles again today, so I am not entirely sure I won’t get sucked into the comfort of my easy chair and purring kitty sleeping in my lap with the remote control right there on the side table. I did get a lot of the laundry done–there’s very little left going into the week–and I would like to get the pantry/laundry room into some sort of tidy order. Ah, dreams are lovely things, aren’t they?

But in taking the boxes down I also found some books that reminded me of how my childhood interest in history took off–the juvenile histories of Genevieve Foster, “parallel histories” is how she described them, which is kind of what A Distant Mirror by Barbara Tuchman is, so yes, there must be a blog essay about these books and how they inevitably got me incredibly interested in history and how it is all connected (also how it constantly repeats). I paged through some of them while bingeing The Traitors yesterday–I bought copies after Katrina, probably in an attempt to reconnect with my personal history, which I did a lot of in those years–and memories came flooding back; and I also remembered a lot of the contents of those books, too. The first one I read–and I checked them out of the library at Eli Whitney Elementary regularly–was George Washington and His World…and I loved the concept of all that historical information being given to give context to that time and that world. So, my wanting to write that kind of history of the sixteenth century was probably already wired into my brain before reading A Distant Mirror, and probably partly why I loved it so much. I also pruned books out of the bookcases and some of the boxes, which is more progress on the house. Next weekend, I’ll drop some boxes of books at the library sale and will also probably drop off beads at ArcGNO.

And on that note, I’m going to get more coffee and make some breakfast. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning! See you then!

A terrific shot by Linda Minutola, who does great work! Best place to get a burger grilled under a hubcap!

Greta

Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment and all is well. I got up early this morning on my own–I think my body expects at least four mornings in a row of getting up early, and this would be the fourth–I guess we’ll see how early I get up tomorrow, shall we? I did manage to do some reading yesterday after I finished working, and had Season One of The Traitors on while I picked up and did other chores. I started a new project in the pantry this morning, and if I can manage to stay motivated this morning, I should be able to complete it before working on the living room and kitchen. I ran two loads of dishes in the dishwasher and the sink is filled with dishes yet again somehow. I also did all the bed linens yesterday, too. I need to run uptown this morning to get the mail and swing by the Fresh Market for a couple of things. I managed to go through my lengthy to-do list yesterday and mark off a lot of things, too. So that was pretty cool–I even had groceries delivered, which was amazing and awesome and all of that. I felt very good about the day when I finally slid under the covers last night, and I slept well, too.

I have to say, I love how the world has fallen in love with Alysa Liu and Amber Glenn after the women’s free skate the other day. There really is something about witnessing someone having the Olympic skate, the one you always hear about that epitomizes the Olympic spirit, right? She was just radiant out on the ice, just epic energy and joy and having the best time. Amber’s support and sportsmanship for the other skaters after her epic long program also won over hearts and minds. (Someone on social media said that she’d watched Alysa’s skate over and over again, because it sparked so much joy, and it ranked with Tom Holland’s Rihanna number! I heartily concur with this sentiment.)

I also remember the good feelings the Paris Summer Olympics back in 2024, and how they made us all forget temporarily the horror of the present times. Our athletes make me proud to be an American, and that’s a feeling I’ve not had in a very long time–and these Olympics have reminded me, also through Alysa and Amber, that joy is so very important, and we should grasp it whenever it’s within reach to us–we should probably look for it more, too. This actually is how the bastards win–by taking away our joy and our hope. This is why I am embracing how much fun I am having with The Traitors, because I enjoy it, it makes me forget the worries and cares and strife of the world and the burdens we all carry on the daily–and why on EARTH would I consider that a guilty pleasure? I need to rediscover my love of reading and writing. I am going to do some writing today if it kills me–and who knows? It just might.

It was in the low eighties and sunny all day yesterday (!!!!), and it looks to be that way today, too–although I thought it was going to be colder this weekend. I looked, and yes, it’s going to be in the seventies today, but thunderstorms later this afternoon! Huzzah! I do love me some rain, you know. That would be a fun time to watch some episodes of The Traitors’ second season (I told you I’m addicted) and maybe do some reading then. I think once I finish this I am going to try to get some cleaning and organizing done before I run my errands. I also need to organize the refrigerator better, too, and finish the pantry project I started yesterday, which is hella exciting. My taxes are also being figured right now, so that should be done soon and my refunds arriving by the end of March, too. Huzzah!

Okay, I think I’m going to take my coffee into the living room and read some for a bit. Have an absolutely delightful Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning for another Gregalicious update.

You can never go wrong with Joe Manganiello.

Juliet

This is an Alysa Liu fan page, for the record. How amazing was her free skate at the Olympics? She was just joy personified on the ice, and seriously, you can never go wrong skating to anything by Donna Summer (I would love to see ice dancers skate to “I Feel Love,” honestly). I was at work while the women skated, but had it playing on my phone while I worked, casting glances at it here and there throughout the hours it was on. I happened to look when Amber Glenn was skating, but at the point where she messed up the landing on that damned triple loop jump, and thought, oh no, poor Amber so I stopped watching for a bit…so was thrilled and surprised to see that Amber had climbed into first place. Isabeau Levito had a tough time out there, too. I watched Alysa skate and it made my heart full. I didn’t see the silver medalist skate–the young woman I thought would win it all–but came back in time for the final skater to see Alysa still in first. The young Japanese girl who got the bronze didn’t have a clean go of it, but she is also beautiful and a gorgeous skater who will be fun to watch in the years to come, and Alysa won the gold medal! I couldn’t wait to get home to watch again, so I could see her do it. (I actually came back to it when she had finished and said, into the camera, That’s what I’m fucking talking about! I also loved that she swore a few more times after coming off the ice. Amber climbed all the way up to fifth–just missing out on a medal by a few points; had she not missed the landing on that loop she may have climbed up into third. Alysa’s individual medal is the first for the US since Sasha Cohen got silver back in 2006, and the first gold since Sarah Hughes in 2002.1

Sigh, I love the Olympics, and I especially love the figure skating. I was also happy to see Ilia Malinin bouncing back from his difficult men’s final, hanging out with other athletes just watching in the stands, or with Martha Stewart and Snoop (I’ve yet to forgive him for his homophobia and his MAGA appearances), hanging with Simone Biles (one of the many superstars of sport who reached out to him), or my personal favorite–the pictures with Tara Lipinski’s daughter Georgie. I also loved seeing skaters supporting each other, cheering for each other and congratulating each other (or consoling, whatever the case may be), which is a very refreshing change over the last few years. The sports broadcasting narrative–the competitive rivalries were also personal ones–always made it seem like the skaters hated each other (true in some instances) but for the most part, they’ve known each other and competed and toured with each other since they were kids so2

Work at home Friday and here we go! I had a nice day at work yesterday, with not a lot of clients so I was able to get caught up on almost everything. I have some quality assurance work to do and some data entry, around getting the house under control. I’m going to have some things delivered either today or tomorrow, and I’m going to run uptown tomorrow to get the mail and stop by the Fresh Market for fresh meat and berries. My Achilles tendons feel okay this morning, but I’m going to ice them anyway while I hopefully sit in my chair doing the quality control stuff.

I’m sorry the Olympics are coming to an end. So many feel-good moments, as always, and so many athletes I’d never heard of before having great Olympic moments, you know? I do think my favorites of these Olympics were Nazgûl the Olympic dog (google it if you’re unaware–he was a very good boy!), and the absolutely charming Japanese figure skating team–their joy in skating and each other was delightful to see. And in a selfish way, I’m kind of glad Ilia got a gold but not an individual medal, which means we’ll get at least four more years of his amazing skating and technical achievements. Is a quint next?

We also watched this week’s episode of The Traitors, and I was terribly disappointed to see Johnny and Tara come so close only to blow it in the end. We have another week to find out who the last murder victim will be (my money’s on Johnny or Mark; if I were Rob and Eric I’d murder JOhnny so Tara can be a wreck and a distraction for the other faithfuls. God how I love this show! We also started watching this week’s episode of The Beauty, which is so off-the-rails and insane–and every time I see him on my screen I loathe pedo-defender Ashton Kutcher more and more. He’s also terrible in this show; how did he ever have a career past his “oh isn’t he cute and dumb” phase. I never thought he was all that, to be honest, and very one-note. Kind of perfect for a show called The Beauty, now that I think about it. It really is a terribly written show, and most of the dialogue is very cringe, as the kids would say. The cast is talented (except for Kutcher) but it’s a shame watching them try to create something out of the beautiful nothing they were given to work with. It’s definitely a hate-watch, at this point, and this last episode–are we really supposed to believe a billionaire would go to that much trouble to shut down an FBI investigation when all he would have to do is donate money to whatever MAGA bullshit grift going on at the moment and the DOJ would shut that shit down faster than Usain Bolt could run at his peak.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines for the morning. I am going to try to get some things done before my workday starts with an online meeting. Have a great Friday, darling Constant Reader, and I will see you tomorrow morning.

Seriously, dude–why not just wear the black tights underneath? But definitely pretty. Professional wrestling is so homoerotic!
  1. Not that she would ever do such a thing–and especially because she lost gold to Americans in 1998 and 2002, so it doesn’t make sense–but I actually wondered if US Olympic skating was cursed after Michelle Kwan won silver and bronze despite being favored. ↩︎ ↩︎
  2. Tonya-Nancy being the most famous–and they had been friends before. ↩︎

Escape from Berlin

It’s Lundi Gras morning, with my favorite parade–Orpheus1–rolling tonight, and I have two more days before returning to work. I am enjoying this little mini-vacation very much. My Achilles tendons are still a bit sore, so after I get home from the errands I have to run this morning, I am in for the day until Orpheus arrives tonight–unless it rains. It looks a bit gloomy outside the windows, if I am being totally honest. It does happen–and it’s been a hot minute since it’s rained, you know? I slept really well the last two nights, and I feel pretty good. I think another easy day of reading and hanging out around the house while doing some chores sounds lovely. I also spent most of yesterday off-line, and that was marvelous. I like that I am spending less and less time on social media. The world is burning, and doomscrolling isn’t much help with that, you know?

We made art during HIV/AIDS, didn’t we?

I did wake up early yesterday after a lovely night’s sleep, and had a pretty good day around the house. I emptied the dishwasher and ran it again, did some straightening up and organizing around here, and had the pairs figure skating short program on the television while I finished reading The Secret of Hangman’s Inn, and started reading another old series book, The Egyptian Cat Mystery, a Rick Brant science adventure. (Rick Brant is another one of my favorites.) I am going to try to read some of the Eli Cranor today, with some more of the Brant, too. I think I may also start Sarah Weinman’s Without Consent as well. I think going forward I will stick with the three–a new fiction read, a reread, and a nonfiction–going forward is my reading plan. I do need to start reading voraciously again; I miss it. I also need to write about Hangman’s Inn. I also managed to send out another promotional newsletter about Hurricane Season Hustle, which you can read by clicking here.

If the weather does hold and my ankles feel okay, I may take a walk later today to get some pictures of the bead trees blooming and all the debris along the sidewalk and in the trees. I feel rested, and Sparky was very cuddly this morning under my warm pile of blankets in the bed. I want to do some writing today, but I may not; it depends on how I feel when I get home from the errands.

We binged more of season four of The Traitors, and I love everything about this show. I cannot believe none of y’all told me I needed to watch this show. I mean, it checks ALL my boxes–murders, pettiness, camp, a castle, robes with cowls, lanterns and torches and executioners! Alan Cumming is having the best time camping it up as the host–and there are some iconic lines on this show; currently my favorite is “snatched tighter than a housewife’s jawline.” And there are three previous seasons to catch up on! It’s all so deliciously Gothic, which I love. We have one more episode from this season before we are caught up, and we’ll probably watch that either tonight or tomorrow; I’m sure Paul has to work, and I know he has his trainer today, too. I should be able to get some reading and writing done today, and today I can finish the floors–which I’ve put off all weekend.

The emails can wait until Wednesday, seriously.

And on that note, I am going to go get cleaned up so I can run my errands. Have a lovely Lundi Gras Monday wherever you may be, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow for Fat Tuesday.