Tag: tropical weather

Read My Lips

Thursday, and my last day in the office this week; huzzah! I am kind of looking forward to a work-at-home Friday; I’ve not had one in quite a while. I went to Alabama one Friday, followed by the 4th, followed by a mandatory in person staff meeting, and of course last week was Staff Development Day. I don’t have to get up to the alarm tomorrow, nor do I have to rush around getting ready for the day. Instead I can have my coffee and breakfast, catch up on news, and post a new entry here before checking in for the day. I have a lot of quality assurance to get done for our site visit next week, but I pretty much have my day job under control now; I’ve finally come up with an efficient system that will always have me caught up on some part of the job, which is lovely. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t come up with this system before, frankly.

The weather wasn’t much of anything yesterday, really. The heat advisory was called off in the morning around eleven, and sure, there was some wind of mild concern (but not consequence) and the rain was more of a misty thing once that started in the afternoon; not the kind of insane flooding downpours we usually get; there was no thunder or lightning, which was very strange; we rarely get that kind of a rain. I was a bit on the tired side when I gor home, but I did some chores before being Sparky’s cuddle cushion for a few hours. We watched another episode of Cross, which is definitely holding our interest, but I am really looking forward to the Hannah Waddingham/Octavia Butler action/adventure show that just dropped. And we still haven’t watched the latest seasons of Bridgerton or Stranger Things.

And yet we’re always trying to find something to watch. Sigh. For All Mankind looks interesting, too.

Apparently, George Zimmermann is homeless and has all kinds of mental issues–including PTSD. All these years later, and he still wants to play victim. Aw, maybe you shouldn’t have murdered a teenager that you also stalked first, you racist piece of shit. You got your MAGA fifteen minutes, and now they have abandoned you, like they always do. Kyle Rittenhouse, this is your future, and I love that for you. (The fact that every single one of them thinks they’ll be the exception whose life won’t be destroyed in the end really needs to be studied.)

Our anniversary was Monday and we both forgot! I blame the world’s madness and all the national media terror reporting on tropical storm Bertha (if you want good and not “the world is ending!” hurricane news, your best bet are the local news in New Orleans, Mobile, and Pensacola; Houston also does an excellent job). I told Paul last night and we had a good chuckle. I remembered because I realized yesterday that I’ll be turning sixty-five in less than a month, followed by fuck, our anniversary is a month before my birthday and WE BOTH FORGOT. But as I have said about birthdays and Christmas numerous times before, neither one of us care very much about things like that–and now that both our mothers are dead, both of those holidays mean even less than they did when they were alive, so it’s no surprise that once we reached the thirty-first anniversary we’d not care and completely forget about it. I mean, every day with Paul is marvelous, and I appreciate what we have every day, so we don’t really need to commemorate when it started. I know people think it’s weird, but we are both so alike when it comes to most things that it’s hard for me to ever argue against the whole soul mate relationship theories.

I did feel a bit drained when I got home from work yesterday, probably the subconscious reacting to all the doom watching yesterday. I feel good this morning, but will probably feel tired this afternoon. I am going to run uptown after work to get the mail and do a minor grocery stop (or have it delivered, hmmm) so I can just stay home all weekend. I am hoping to get back on my writing horse tonight and this weekend, too, so we’ll see how it all goes.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a great Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning. Till then!

Bring Your Love

Here we are on Wednesday morning with a tropical storm heading this way, and no one seems to know what kind of impact it will have on the city. I know we are in a heat advisory with “feels like” temperatures up to 1171 (!!!) at some point this afternoon. We’re definitely going to have some intense wind, some rain (potentially 2 to 4 inches) with the possibility of street flooding, but should be all over by tomorrow, I think. It changes almost hourly, which is part and parcel of living along the Gulf Coast. AH, well, I guess we’ll see how it goes. There’s also no need for me to check on work stuff; since the impact, if any, isn’t due until this afternoon there’s no chance the office is closing for the day; at best, we’ll go in for the morning and be sent home in the afternoon. I’d rather that not be the case; I’d rather have a normal day as my body is getting used to my regular routine again. I slept pretty well and actually feel pretty good this morning, which is also pretty cool. I was pretty tired when I got home last night–but I’ve also noticed the days at work go by a lot faster than they used to; I was doing some of my work yesterday afternoon only to be startled to look up and see that it was almost four! The car was also insanely hot inside when I got off work, which didn’t encourage me to stop on the way home to make groceries. (I did not do this errand, because the heat drained everything out of me, and I couldn’t face carrying in the groceries in the heat.)

I did work on an essay yesterday for the newsletter, but I want to edit it again before posting it. It’s an important subject, and I want to be certain that my argument is cohesive and logical, and that it doesn’t bounce around all over the place, as I tend to be with my writing of personal non-fiction. I’ve not sent out a newsletter in well over several weeks or so (not that anyone is pounding down my door, desperate to get the next one in their inbox), and I should send one out for the sake of consistency, at any rate. Heavy sigh.

Sigh. Maybe there’s another one in drafts I can complete easily and get sent out, and I can save the other for this weekend when I can work on it leisurely and not feel rushed. I’ll add that to today’s to-do list.

I’ve been actually enjoying all the on-line discourse on The Odyssey (while obviously avoiding anything right-wing oriented, because they’ll hate it without even seeing it), and as I said yesterday, I definitely am thinking about getting the Emily Wilson translations of the three epic poems that are Troy related; can it hurt to revisit them again as an adult? When I originally read them (and other Greek mythology) I didn’t know what rape was; I thought it meant abduction2—they kidnapped the women. Later on, when I learned the true definition of rape, I realized just how rapey Greek myth was, and I didn’t want to revisit them , plus the conflict between the classical definition of hero versus the modern-day one (like the definition of romance in literature has also dramatically changed) was jarring. Now, at my advanced age, the rape stuff will still bug me, but I also understand what their mythology was really about much more so now than I did at that age.

Storm update: Bertha is now projected to pass to the south of New Orleans, but we’re going to get some rain this afternoon/early evening. Whew.

And on that relief note, I am going to head into the spice mines and head to work. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back on the morrow. Stay safe, and stay vigilant!

The Taleon Imperial Hotel, St. Petersburg, Russia
  1. I told Paul to work at home today, because there’s no need for him to go out into this heat we’re going to experience. ↩︎
  2. I think this came from seeing a painting called The Rape of the Sabine Women, depicting the Trojan exiles carrying off the women, in the copy of Virgil that I read. ↩︎

I Feel So Free

It’s Tuesday morning, with a tropical storm out there and heading this way. Eek! It seems to be moving slow, with potential landfall tomorrow in the afternoon some time…which will be fun since I will be at work and will have to figure out how to get home in a downpour, but hey, you never know. Best thing will be to take I-10 to the I-90 exchange and get off at St. Charles. Ah, well, don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow, so why borrow trouble today? Besides, New Orleans/tropical weather forecasts are often wrong; it could be cloudless and sunny while Bertha works her wiles along the coast before coming in. We’re in both a heat advisory and a tropical storm watch at the same time; how New Orleans in July is that? I also slept really well last night–I was tired when I got home from running my errands, for some reason. Tonight I am going to stop on my way home to pick up a few things, but it’s on my way home and thus not a big deal or detour.

I’ve viewed The Odyssey with a skeptical eye since it was announced and previews/clips/still photos started showing up everywhere. As I mentioned before, I always thought Odysseus was kind of a dick, as were the rest of the Greeks; despite knowing the outcome of the Trojan War and what happened to Odysseus on his way home, I always was on Troy’s side. (case in point: Achilles the great warrior. Um, it’s easy to be a brave killing machine when your skin all over your body is invulnerable like Superman. How are you a hero when you literally can’t be killed or injured? Make it make sense, Homer!) However, over the past few days I’ve seen some discussion on the film that makes it seem more interesting to me; I’m not going to see it in a theater (no way am I sitting anywhere for three hours), and had always planned on streaming it. I was going to watch more out of a sense of obligation, really, but it sounds like Nolan’s take on the story is different…it never occurred to me to ever link Troy and the Sea Peoples and the Bronze Age collapse together, and I have to say I am now interested in reading Emily Wilson’s translations of Homer and Virgil. I read the three epics when I was in junior high, and may have been too young to absorb, understand, and interpret. (The Achilles/Patroclus relationship fascinated me; even though the myth was so cleaned up for kids…somehow, I knew.)

I’ve always wanted to write about the Trojan War but was confused by so much. If Troy was a major city and in control of trade routes, where was their fleet? Their merchant ships? Their port? I have this image in my head of an old man, seated by a fire, telling the story of Prince Ganymede of Troy, one of Priam’s bastards, but very close to my favorite Trojan, Cassandra.

I hate my brain sometimes.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day, but mother of God, it was hot. It was 103 when I got into the car after work, and yes, it felt every degree of it. I listened to the new Madonna album on the way uptown yesterday as the a/c in the car finally began blowing cold, deliciously cold, and got the mail. I also stopped and made groceries (still no Creole tomatoes) and yes, bringing everything into the house from the car was exhausting and sweat-inducing to the point that I needed to sit in my chair once everything was put away. I watched the news–the World Cup trophy presentation thing made me laugh, cruelly, and almost as hard as I laughed at the booing. Bravo, Spain! Bravo! How pathetic and pitiable was that display of childish self-centering? “My trophy! Cameras on ME! I’m the best boy!” I mean, I totally get why his parents didn’t love him (who could?), but I also don’t see why we have to be the ones to suffer from his lifelong trauma of Not Being The Best Boy. The first hints of rain from Bertha aren’t supposed to (last time I checked, anyway) get here until tonight, once I am safely home from work and have a purring kitty in my lap while I write and I catch up on the news. I did the dishes this morning and will turn on the dishwasher once I am on my way out the door. It’ll be nice to come home to a cleaned up kitchen without a sink full of dirty dishes and dirty dishes and assorted debris all over my counters.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines for the day. Hope you have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning.

Professional wrestler and Greek god-like Finn Baelor

Danceteria

And here I am, on Monday morning again, yawning and swilling coffee before I get ready for work. We’re busy this week, so I am going to be drained and tired when I come home from work every day this week. That’s fine, really. I had a most lovely weekend to begin with. I spent a lot of time just resting and relaxing, but I did get some things done. I’m not used to having so little hanging over my head that I have this much free time, and I have to say that I kind of love having time to just decompress and chill while still being able to get some things done.

We’re in a heat advisory again, and there’s a storm forming in the gulf–Bertha–projected to most likely come this way and pass over New Orleans, but it’s potential for strengthening beyond tropical storm (still not something to sneeze at, just means we don’t have to evacuate) is not very strong and we should start feeling effects of this on Tuesday, supposedly. This means we’ll probably get heavy rains this week, possible flooding, and the potentiality of losing power. I also need to check out what’s going on with the fecal infected vegetable products as I need to stop at the store and make some groceries on the way home; although I did see the FDA was coerced into walking back blaming Taylor Farms for this round of cyclospora. Thanks again, RFK and DOGE. Are we healthy again yet?

Sherlock Holmes, of all people, was on my mind this weekend for some reason I am not certain of; I think I was offered a ridiculously low ebook price for The Hound of the Baskervilles. I know I want to write an essay about not being a Sherlockian; I’ve always felt my lack of appreciation for Holmes was something shameful for someone who identifies primarily as a crime writer. When I wrote that historical story about a New Orleans-based Sherlock in 1916, I did read some of the short stories I hadn’t read before and enjoyed them, and Sherlock dances back into my head every once in a while, primarily because I’d like to revisit that time and write about it more. But does it have to be a Sherlock story? Why can’t I have a New Orleans-based world’s greatest detective? It’s an interesting time period, as Storyville still existed as did anti-Italian prejudice aka they’re all Mafia, where they lived in the lower Quarter. There are also all kinds of interesting cases in New Orleans history that could also go back to that time, too. I don’t feel like I know enough about Holmes to write more about him as a 1916 New Orleanian with a desire for male flesh….I also like the idea of writing about New Orleans when it was primarily accessible only by water. The 1915 hurricane after-effects would also be interesting to write about, especially since both St. Malo and Freniere were wiped off the map. I already have a Sherlock short story idea having to do with Freniere–but I’ve held off on writing it because I need to decide whether to base my character on Sherlock, and continue with him as I have already adapted him.

I also wonder if I should be writing about Sherlock.

Since Lisa Morton will occasionally urge me to write more horror (which is incredibly sweet, encouraging and supportive all at the same time) so I have been thinking about horror more these last few weeks or so. I have an idea for a horror novel that I am toying with currently, which could be a lot of fun to write–horror always is–but like the Sherlock thing, I’m not sure I have the background knowledge or the necessary steeping in the genre that I should have…then again, I always am very quick to point out my lack of formative knowledge in the crime genre (see: Sherlock Holmes), too, but I write it anyway. Horror always, surprisingly enough, turns my mind towards Alabama and the Florida panhandle and the Sierra Nevada mountains. I also came up with the opening for a new series I am interested in tackling this weekend, too…

I did work some on the book as well as a couple of short stories…and I also thought a lot about the next Scotty and what to make it about. I was going to go with January before parades start, with it opening as the boys watch the Krewe de Vieux parade pass beneath their balcony, but then I remembered the S&WB project that has the streets in the Quarter all torn up and thought, well, I’d need to look into the construction work and then started thinking about October/November; something to do with Halloween as the title anchor, and Hijinks as the third word, but I need something to go in between; I can’t use season because I just used that…maybe Halloween Pumpkin Hijinks? Maybe candy? Sigh.

I also hate that the World Cup is over and everyone is going home…but at least Spain beat Argentina (ETTD).

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

Erling Halaand, my World Cup crush

Lift ‘Em on Up

Sunday morning in the Lost Apartment, and I did stay in bed later this morning on purpose because it imply fet so marvelous. I had a small replacement fan delivered yesterday afternoon, and it ran all night and I didn’t wake up once, instead going into an incredibly deep and restful sleep for nearly ten hours! Yesterday was kind of a nice, low energy day around here. Paul is back to working with his trainer and going to the gym again, and so he was gone most of the afternoon. I slept later yesterday, and had a bit of a sleep hangover; I was back to feeling rested and not tired, but my batteries were a bit low. I ordered some things to have delivered, and picked up and organized whenever Sparky wasn’t insistent on my lap for hugs and cuddles and naps, which was also nice. Relaxing is always important for both physical and mental health, and my stamina is getting better. I did get a fan delivered yesterday, to make sure I had both the breeze and noise while sleeping last night. I didn’t read any of my book, but I read some of my work in progress, which counts, doesn’t it? I think this morning I’ll read some of the book I’m reading, which I am enjoying. It’s nice to wake up feeling rested and good.

I’m also late with the newsletters, which I am blaming on being “off” all week. I did do some writing this past week, but not much, and I am definitely behind on everything I am working on. It’s a shame that the response I am writing to that little gatekeeping shit who wrote that op-ed for the New York Slimes recently, trying to restrict the community to those he feels “truly belong” as opposed to, how did he say it? Straight kids trying to be cool? I was very angry when I started writing it, but am glad I waited and let it sit, so I can be very cold and factual as I dismantle his bigoted (and hardly Christian) argument.

Honestly, I had no interest in seeing The Odyssey , and it had nothing to do with it being “woke.” (Which didn’t seem to hurt its opening weekend ticket sales). It’s more along the lines that I’ve always thought Odysseus was kind of a dick; Greek “heroes” aren’t really heroic in the modern sense (the Hero’s Journey is the protagonist’s journey, just like romance originally meant something different than it does now, as did mystery); which always confused me when I was fascinated by the Trojan War (I’ve always wanted to write about Troy) and Greek mythology. Heracles was most certainly not a hero in the sense that the modern American definition thinks of as heroic–and while some of his monstrous behavior could be excused away as acts of the gods, not all of them were because of Hera or some other Olympian with a grudge. (I’ve also wanted to write about Heracles since I was a kid.)

Since I was on low-energy mode yesterday, we did watch Sugar, and a couple of episodes of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which really needs to ditch the soapy time travel melodrama of the cast of characters and more on the monsters, which is why we are watching. Godzilla finally has shown up–it’s funny how these same monsters traumatized me as a child, watching Creature Features on the television, giving me bad dreams for weeks after seeing one, and now I love them–which was vastly overdue. The problem with the focus on the melodrama always makes me zone out a bit, which means I miss key things about the monsters by the same team who are also studying the monsters and predicting patterns of behavior and movement–and also where they come from, hence the time travel melodrama. Sugar? No notes. Colin Farrell is fantastic, and the show is well done and well written and extremely clever.

I have to order some things for delivery today or tomorrow; I haven’t decided. I ordered things yesterday so I didn’t have to leave the house, since we were in a d (“feels like 110!”) so I decided going to the gate to get things or out to the trash to dump garbage and the recycling was enough; the sun glaring off my windshield was blinding and I don’t want to think about how hot the car is on the inside. We’re in another heat advisory today, with the ‘feels like’ at about 112, hence ordering for delivery yet again.

The times in which we live, where Taco Bell has replaced the CDC and Waffle House the National Weather Service. Had someone told me this would be my senior years when I was even middle-aged I would have laughed so hard. An anti-vaxxer in charge of public health and food safety? Let’s remember, the agencies that would have worked on these things were gutted by DOGE, Elon, and his ketamine fueled college-age boys? Where are those little shits now? I know they aren’t behind bars where they belong.

There are two tropical messes trying to form in the upper Gulf, just off the coast, and it will of course affect us with some rain and possible flooding from Tuesday through the next weekend. Heavy sigh–but I am looking forward to the thunderstorm.

Pity about the Tates being arrested for raping and trafficking children. Hope they enjoy dying in prison.

And on that cheerful note–I approve of predators being arrested–I am going to get another cup of coffee and head into the living room to read for a bit before getting cleaned up and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will be here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

This artwork is “The Tree of Forgiveness” (1881–1882) by English Pre-Raphaelite painter Sir Edward Burne-Jones. The painting depicts a scene from classical mythology, specifically the legend of Phyllis and Demophoön.
It illustrates the moment Phyllis, transformed into an almond tree, emerges from the bark to embrace her lover, Demophoön, who has returned filled with remorse. (If you ask me, he looks terrified and like he’s trying to escape. Maybe that’s the myth?)

Just Like Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hard to Believe

Thursday? And tomorrow’s a holiday? Praise be for a three day weekend! I only am working three days next week, too, as I am meeting Dad in Alabama. And the week after is yet another holiday weekend.

I woke up to thunder around five this morning; we were also having a massive downpour. A tornado alert came to my phone about twenty minutes after the alert that we were in a warning, but I have no idea what part of the city said tornado was striking. YIKES. I always love that the alerts tell us to take shelter in an interior room or basement; New Orleans doesn’t have basements (the house are raised off the ground in most neighborhoods) and we don’t have interior rooms that would trap the heat in summer. I haven’t gotten any notification that the tornado has ended or moved on, either. Having lived five years in Kansas, I have plenty of experience with tornadoes–which makes it more alarming. At least I am medicated this time around. Ah, a quick view of the news has informed me the threat is over, and so are the tornado watches. We’re still in a flash flood alert, though, until around nine this morning. Work wasn’t cancelled, so we must have power in the building…I also don’t have to be there as early as I usually do, either. We’re slow in the clinic today–if anyone shows up at all–and checking Entergy, we do have power so all is well on that front, too, so I need to get it together and get a move on. I wasn’t terribly tired when I got home last night, but what I didn’t want to happen did; when I got home Paul was already on the couch watching television, I sat down for a few minutes to decompress after feeding Sparky and the next thing I knew, it was time for bed. We watched the finale of Widow’s Bay, which I may rewatch to get a better handle on, moved on to Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed, and finished the night off with an episode of America’s Sweethearts.

It’s okay, though. I realized last night that I would probably blow the chores off again tonight and would have to catch up on everything Friday morning, like I usually do. But…no work-at-home this week because of the holiday. Maybe I can get back on the writing horse tonight, too. I am not stopping to make groceries, either, on my way home tonight. We have plenty of foodstuffs with which to make meals, and yes, his Majesty is nearly out of treats, which would be a high crime and misdemeanor in the Lost Apartment. Sigh. Maybe I should stop on the way home. Such a spoiled little baby he is!

Paul’s doing much better; it seems like every day he is getting around better and he isn’t getting antsy about leaving the house, either. I suspect he won’t be terribly thrilled when he has to start going back to the office, I know I wasn’t! But my coffee is starting to kick in and I am feeling more awake and alert with every passing minute. Huzzah! I do have things I need to get caught up on at the office, but I also get to leave early, which is awesome….so yeah, if the weather isn’t too inclement, I should make some groceries–even though we don’t really need much of anything. Hmmm. Play it by ear and see how the weather is going; if the CBD is flooding I’m not going to go that way! The last thing I need is having a flood total my car.

Sorry my life hasn’t been more interesting, Constant Reader. I really don’t want to talk about the current events going on in the world right now; every day the news is even more absurd and insane than the day before. Are we great again yet? I know I am tired of all of this kind of winning, if that’s what you can call it.

But the one bright spot of the week has been the videos posted of foreigners coming to the US for the first time and having the best time. It’s kind of funny that we go visit historic sites or natural wonders when we go to their countries; when they come here, oddly enough, they want to try fast food and go see Walmart and Costco and Buc-ee’s, and loving every minute of it1. Apparently Europeans didn’t think we actually had yellow school buses, and are tripping their minds when they see one? I also saw a video of a European watching an intense thunderstorm in Arkansas and being blown away because they don’t have them over there. Seeing their wonder and love for everything they are doing–and the way Americans have embraced them–they are also surprised by how friendly and nice everyone is (one video was just a collection of scenes of this guy shocked that people will hold the door open for the people behind them, which is something we don’t think about and is absolutely automatic. I love that Boston and Scotland have fallen in love with each other. I’m also amazed at how many are having issues with the heat here–and it’s still spring. I kind of wish they’d used the Superdome for one of the games, so we could enjoy some foreign visitors, too. It also serves as a reminder that we do have a pretty cool country, for the most part–just because one-third of the population is bottom-feeding garbage doesn’t mean we all are, and that our country is worth fighting the fascists for. We’ve never lived up to our ideals as a nation, but we can get there someday.

Who knew the World Cup would turn out to be such a bright spot for us? We definitely needed this boost, for sure.

And someday we can make the ideal of true freedom and equality a reality for everyone.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Holiday Eve, everyone, and I will be back tomorrow morning.

The pier in Panama City Beach
  1. I also love how they all fall in love with ranch dip! ↩︎

It’s a Tuff Life

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

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

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

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

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

Fire and Ice

Work-at-home Friday! Yesterday wasn’t a terrible day, to be honest. I was more low energy than I would have preferred, but I did still manage to get things done, which was so lovely! I picked up a prescription on the way home, and a couple of books I’d ordered, and was home by a fairly decent time. I do have some work to do today, of course, and there’s always cleaning and laundry to get done. But I made progress, you know? I didn’t read or write because I wanted to let my mind rest up for the weekend. Paul was worn out from his physical therapy yesterday, and by the time I got home was ready to lay down and elevate his knee. He’s doing great, which is most pleasing to me, and I’m looking forward to a pretty chill but productive weekend.

I’m pretty proud of myself for mostly sticking to my guns and not impulsively buying books all the time. More books have gone out of the house than have come in this year, so that’s a big win, I think. The books I picked up were Down Cemetery Road by Mick Herron; Language as Liberation by Toni Morrison1; and Stephen King’s Never Flinch. I am years behind on King–so far behind that I don’t know that I can ever catch up, but I do love the character of Holly Gibney. I also would like to get deep into reading Rough Pages by Lev AC Rosen (I opened his newest to the front page last night and was utterly charmed; he’s so talented!) and make some headway into a reread of Celebrity.

I also spent some time enjoying watching highlights of the Knicks’ incredible comeback win the other night (I was sound asleep by the time the game ended) and I am really pulling for the Knicks to pull this off, you know? I have always loved New York, and I do love seeing people’s joy being expressed. They booed Baron Harkonnen the other night resoundingly; their mayor is amazing and going to be legendary; and overall, New York just seems to be riding high right now–as opposed to how the country is being run. How can you not root for them if you aren’t a Spurs fan?2

There’s a big blob of tropical mess out in the Gulf right now that is heading for the coastline. I keep seeing its remnants of a named storm (Cristina? BRING ME THE AX!), but I hadn’t been aware there had already been two named ones already. It’s supposed to get here Monday and sending us torrential downpours, thunder and lightning, and street flooding. That means probably excessive heat and humidity for us here in New Orleans until it gets here. Another good reason to leave the house as little as possible and stay inside all weekend. I’ll prune the books some more this weekend, but there’s no need for me to take them to the library sale. Next weekend is the Juneteenth holiday weekend, and of course I will be in Alabama the following weekend, and then its the 4th of July weekend…maybe I won’t prune the books just yet.

And on that note, I think I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I will be back here again tomorrow morning. Till then!

  1. I’ve read quite a bit of Dr. Morrison’s fiction, but I really do want to read some of her nonfiction takes on the American literary canon and it’s overwhelming whiteness. ↩︎
  2. And yes, everything he touches does die. He went to the LSU-Alabama game in 2019, only to see Alabama lose at home for the first time in four years. But if there’s even the slightest possibility he can make the sporting event about him…. ↩︎

Let’s Go

I like the nightlife, baby!

The Cars’ Candy-O album, for the record, also holds up forty years later.

It’s the Monday of my last infusion, which means I need to get ready and drive out to the farthest extreme of Metairie this morning; I’m not really sure where Metairie ends and Kenner begins in all honesty. I’m going to take my book with me to read for the two hours I am in the chair attached to an IV. Woo-hoo! But this is, as I said, the last one, and I’m kind of glad about that, in all honesty. I am sick of IVs, if I am being completely honest. Everyone at the infusion center is lovely, of course, but…

Sunday was a lovely day around here. I grilled yesterday, and we watched the rest of Wednesday, which is a lot of fun (although I keep thinking of the show as a continuation of the movies from the 90s, which it’s not) and I love that my favorite Wednesday, Christina Ricci, is in the cast. Now they just need to write a part for Joan Cusack! We also started Chief of War with Jason Momoa, which is beautiful–looks like it was filmed on location in Hawaii, although I didn’t know that they have kudzu in Hawaii; I don’t recall ever seeing any when I was there, but apparently they do. Also turns out most of the show was shot in New Zealand, not Hawaii, which is interesting. I also read more deeply into El Dorado Drive, which I am loving (and can’t wait to get back into at the infusion center), and I also worked on my own writing for a while yesterday. I am looking forward to working on it more after the infusion, too. I think I am finally getting back into the swing and rhythms of my own life again at long last–but let’s not hold our breaths, shall we?

There’s a tropical system looking to develop into something major out near to Cabo Verde Islands, but will most likely turn north in the Atlantic (so they are saying) and not come ashore in the US. The season is definitely starting to get amped up, unfortunately. I was thinking more about the Katrina aftermath and writing something for the newsletter about the twenty year remembrance; and I am glad I watched that documentary series last week about the disaster. I think I am ready to talk about it again. I also was thinking about my essay on religion that I want to finally finish for my newsletter–this was from finishing season two of Shiny Happy People–and also recognizing, at last, that I can also write them in parts–which is also something I can do with other essays.

Sometimes I wonder about myself, you know? The reason I even thought about this in the first place was because I was thinking yesterday about writing a serialized novel for my newsletters, which then became duh, you can do this with the essays as well so they aren’t so long. I still am up in the air about the newsletter and what I should use it for…but I also want to be careful about freezing it into something clearly defined because then I get into the old “that’s not what this is for” when the truth is it can be whatever I want it to be and any rules for it are set by ME, which means I am also not bound by any such rule. What am I going to do, punish myself by grounding me from writing it for a while? Posh, what ignorance!

Heavy heaving sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I may be back later after the infusion–one never can be entirely sure with me–but if not, tomorrow morning for sure. Have a lovely Monday!