I’m running a bit behind this morning–hence the tardiness of my daily blog–but I keep reminding myself you have no time constraints today; because I don’t. The post office closes at 2, but other than that, I can be anywhere at any time today. This is very nice, and the same is true for tomorrow. I do have some things to get done today, but again, there’s nothing pressing.
I had originally thought I was going to try to get a lot of writing and reading done this weekend; but yesterday, after I finished my work at home duties, I decided to clean up the apartment as well as get better organized with all the things I currently have in progress. I’ve been ill for so long (I no longer refer to the fatigue and brain fog as anything other than a part of the ulcerative colitis; henceforth I will think of the first half of this decade as anything other than “when I was ill”) that I didn’t have the strength, energy, or will power to do much of anything except try to keep current on the housework…and thus things slid. I think part of the reason I’ve not been able to write as much is partly because everything has been so cluttered and scattered and disorganized, and as I cleaned haphazardly yesterday afternoon, my mind started wandering and thinking about writing projects, which felt absolutely amazing.
I had dinner with a friend last night, which was quite lovely. It was a beautiful night for a walk–there’s nothing better than New Orleans on a warm winter night–and we ate in the restaurant courtyard. I remembered to wear my hearing aids so I could actually hear, and it was marvelous to catch up. I even decided to try having more than one cocktail, to see how it would play out, and it was fine. No gastronomical distress! And walking a total of about ten blocks or so was perfectly fine. My hips didn’t ache a bit, and I am not exhausted this morning, either. I got a little winded walking, but that’s from being out of condition–and a big reminder of how far I have to go to get back into decent shape…or what I call decent shape, at any rate. It’s just so marvelous to feel good again, you know? It makes me very happy. I also spent some time with the massage gun, working on the tightness in my left shoulder and the shoulder blade; it gets tight and sore since the surgery but feels great this morning. (Note to self: remember the use the massage gun every week.) I also want to start stretching a bit every day and maybe even taking a walk…once I figure out how to make the headphones work with my new phone.
So far, so good, 2026.
And on that note, I think I am going to get cleaned up and make a grocery list–I have to make groceries at some point–and get back to work on cleaning and organizing. Have a marvelous day, Constant Reader, and I will be back in the morning!
I just love when stained glass is lit up, don‘t you?
Well, here it is New Year’s Eve yet again, with 2025 taking its last breath tonight at 11:59:50 p.m. I’m not going to celebrate the end of an awful year (it was pretty awful for everyone, I think) because who know what fresh horrors 2026 will bring in its dreadful wake?
I mean, the year wasn’t all bad, was it?
Let’s start with the bad, shall we, and get it out of the way first?
I lost four dear friends this past year, people who’d been part of my life since before I was published, and had always been active cheerleaders of mine, both personally and professionally. Their loss is still felt; I think at least every day I have a moment of oh I should email Victoria to see what she thinks and then have the jolt of remembering that I’ll never have another lengthy conversation via email with her (we stopped talking on the phone because we’d talk for hours and lose track of time; I can’t tell you how many times one of us was late for something because we were on the phone) again. We lost Dorothy Allison after the election in 2024, but I am counting that as part of 2025’s losses, because it was so close to the end of the year. And of course, Felice Picano and Patricia Brady. I don’t think I will ever not miss any of them.
Few things can make you feel your age like losing your loved ones.
I suppose the biggest thing that happened to me this past year was being diagnosed with ulcerative colitis and spending six days in the hospital. I know, I am certain you’re sick of hearing about me being sick; but it was something significant that happened to me this year and since this is a year-end round-up…you can, of course, also skip ahead if you’re sick of me being sick; God knows I was sick of being sick. We now think (we= me and my doctor) that the situation probably developed as long ago as 2019/2020; and I had bouts since then that I didn’t know was the ulcerative colitis and thought it was something else. Since it always cleared up, I didn’t worry about it. I blamed the brain fog, memory loss, and fatigue on having COVID in the summer of 2021. But those were also symptoms that something was wrong with me, just not identified as such, and of course, my criminally negligent previous doctor (who should lose his license to practice, frankly) couldn’t have cared less. But this last bout was bad and it was probably the worst five weeks of my life thus far, health-wise–and it did require hospitalization. I am now feeling the best I have in years, even farther back than the pandemic, and now I just need to rebuild my stamina and get back into better physical condition. Ultimately, that bad round of colitis turned out to be a good thing…
I think it’s pretty safe to say that it was a shitty year to be a US citizen on every political level. We have a jackass governor, an evil psycho for president, and the gang of idiots that are the cabinet, and don’t get me started on MAGA. There are signs, though, that it’s all going to collapse…just not soon enough. I just wonder how much of the country is going to get dragged down with them.
I read some excellent books this year, just not nearly enough of them. Some personal favorites are Murder Takes a Vacation by Laura Lippman, We Are Watching by Alison Gaylin, El Dorado Drive by Megan Abbott, Fever Beach by Carl Hiassen, O Jerusalem by Laurie R. King, The Hunting Wives by May Cobb; Holokua Road by Elizabeth Hand, The Get Off by Christa Faust, and Hall of Mirrors by John Copenhaver, amongst many others. I also reread some books that I always enjoy. I didn’t read many short stories, or essays, and that’s something I need to correct in the new year.
My favorite movie of the year was Superman. Period, no question, no arguments. There was also a lot of good television this past year, with lots of excellent queer representation across the board. Boots and Heated Rivalry showed that queers can be leads, and people will watch. (The enthusiastic reactions of some straight men to Heated Rivalry shocked me to the core.) While this fascist-adjacent administration tries to strip queer people of our rights, our dignity, and our citizenship, queer acceptance by the people is rising. Sure, there are still homophobic chodes out there, wrapping their bigotry (and ignorance) in the cloak of religious belief, but that will never change. The way MAGA took over evangelical Christianity, only to have regular church attendance fall sharply, is just *chef’s kiss* to me. Have fun in hell, apostates!
I wrote one book this past year, and it took me forever to do so, but… it will be out in February at long last. I also published three short stories in anthologies: “The Last To See Him Alive” in Celluloid Crimes; “The Spirit Tree” in Double Crossing Van Dine; and “The Rhinestone”, which was in Crime Ink: Iconic, edited by John Copenhaver and Salem West; a queer crime anthology I was very proud to be in. So, the year wasn’t a total wash; I just got seriously derailed last spring.
But again, I have to reiterate that getting derailed last spring was a good thing for me, because having enforced rest where I really couldn’t do much of anything–using my laptop was exhausting (I didn’t have a good place in my room to use it), I didn’t have any books with me (although I could have read on the Kindle app on my phone), and so my mind was wandering almost the entire time I was there (when it wasn’t focused on how horrible I felt). Lying in a hospital bed with literally no idea what is wrong with you (and none of the doctors or nurses know, either) is a major wake-up call; one that makes you have to sit back and take stock of your life and career and behavior, while recognizing/remembering how I used to put a lot of thought into my writing and my career and somehow, I just lost the thread of everything at some point in the 2010’s. I also got a hard dose of the reality that procrastination has always been my enemy, and I’d come out of the aughts kind of damaged; and rather than dealing with my ambitions or making plans to achieve my career goals.
My blog turned 21 yesterday, too; which is wild to me. My, how things have changed since I started blogging! It seems weird to have been blogging this long. I started while we were under the incompetent rule of George W. Bush, and before Hurricane Katrina, if that tells you anything. I don’t think there’s ever been a year where I posted every day, but still, even assuming I only did 300 entries per year, that’s 6300 entries, and averaging them out to 500 words each…that’s over three million words here alone.
Um, yikes?
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow with goals for 2026.
How beautiful New Orleans is at night always awes me.
And it’s back to the office with me this morning. Bleargh. There are worse things, after all, and I don’t have to go in on Thursday, so that’s something. But it’s been a hot minute since I got up this early, so it feels weird to be sitting here, a bit groggy, with dark outside. But my coffee tastes good and the incoming cold weather doesn’t strike until tomorrow. Paul is leaving to see his mom tomorrow and won’t be back until sometime Sunday, so it’s just going to be me and a lonely, needy cat here for nearly a week. That’s okay; I don’t mind having Sparky glued to me at all times when I’m home. He really doesn’t like being left alone by himself, and he really doesn’t like it when only one of us is home. He’s a spoiled little baby, but he’s our spoiled little baby, isn’t he?
I feel surprisingly good this morning; it wasn’t a struggle to get out of bed and I was also able to resist hitting snooze repeatedly until I had to rush around the house like a madman, either. Today is my injection day, so I need to take it out of the refrigerator to thaw out for forty-five minutes before attaching it to myself. I also don’t know if today is an Admin Day or a clinic day; in either case, we aren’t busy at all this week so it’s not a very big deal, one way or the other. The rest of the week is very slow, too–we kick back into high gear next week, after the new year, as everyone’s insurance resets for a new calendar year. Woo-hoo! But my mood is good, I don’t feel tired, the coffee is going down well, and I am getting a bit hungry and may have to eat my breakfast sandwich here in a moment.
I was really hungry! But that sandwich hit the spot properly. I also have to do my every-eight-weeks-injection–and I can sort of tell it’s almost time. My digestive system hasn’t been painful or anything, but…I can tell when the injection is almost due. I’ve been very dehydrated lately, so need to focus on replenishing electrolytes this week, too; this is all related, of course, to the UC (bastard that it is). I am sure everything will be fine once I pump the medicine into my abdomen for five minutes. So exciting!
We watched Cover-Up, the documentary about Seymour Hersh, which was very interesting. I hadn’t thought of Sy Hersh in years, but have always appreciated his reporting work. He does kind of come across as a bit of a dick in the documentary, but they don’t make journalists like him anymore, which is a pity. My formative teen years (the 1970s) was a decade of spectacular journalism, which made me think that the bad old days of yellow journalism and if it bleeds it leads were a thing of the past and all journalists were ethical and did things the right way and protected the public interest all these years…Fox and our current embarrassment of legacy media is definitely something that needs to be fixed in the future, but our system has become so corrupted that they don’t even bother trying to hide it anymore.
Brigitte Bardot, the Nazi skank who couldn’t act, died. Hope she’s enjoying the flames of hell like the racist homophobic piece of shit deserved. You didn’t become famous for your intellect, madam. After Anthony Geary and Rob Reiner, it was nice to not feel a bit sad when a celebrity died.
The long holiday weekend was lovely, even if I accomplished very little. I did run the dishwasher before I went to bed last night, so I need to unload it tonight, and pick up a few things around the apartment. I also have to make a bit of groceries on my way home from work tonight–nothing major, nothing much, just a couple of things to get me through the week. Tomorrow night I’ll need to swing by the post office to pay the rental and pick up the mail for the last time in 2025…2026 might be worse than 2025, but at least for now there’s the promise of things getting better somehow. I usually do start the year with optimism…
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely last Monday of the year, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back here for New Year’s Eve Eve tomorrow.
Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment, and all is well so far, at any rate. It’s cold this morning here in my workspace; but it will warm up during the day. I slept really well last night, and feel pretty good. Sparky got me up a little later than usual, and of course, the pile of blankets was enormously comfortable last night, too. I had the Oklahoma-Alabama game on last night while I did other things, and it was a decent game, from what I actually watched of it, with Alabama finally breaking whatever hold it was Oklahoma had over them these past two seasons and beating them. Good on you, Alabama. I imagine I will have the games on today while doing other things–after getting home from my errands that I need to do this morning. Yesterday was a good day; I got my work done and attended my meeting and worked on the apartment. I did a shit ton of laundry and cleaned the apartment thoroughly, even doing the living room floor. There’s some chores left for me to do in the kitchen, but it already looks so much better down here this morning! I also worked on the voice for Chlorine–which is crucial to getting to work on it, you know?
It’s always nice to have a lovely day, you know? It’s also super great to feel good without the exhaustion and fatigue, too. I think my dad and the doctor are 100% correct and the ulcerative colitis began in the summer off 2020, which is when the fatigue and exhaustion began, and the dehydration. It’s also nice to know that my bitter condemnations of myself as being lazy for not getting more done (which used to be the default setting) wasn’t actually laziness but a physical thing. I can’t remember feeling this good…so it’s been a hot minute, don’t you think?
One of the things I did yesterday was map out my essay series about my interest in Egypt and Egyptian things, and it was rather lengthy! I was trying to remember books about or set in Egypt (crime novels, mostly) that I read when I was a kid–I’m trying to remember the influences on me as a writer and how I got interested in certain things–and was amazed at how many there actually were, you know? And I am pretty certain I am not remembering everything, but the things I do remember are pretty clear and vivid in my head. I mean, Amelia Peabody is one of my favorite fictional characters of all time, so it would be very hard to forget a favorite character from a favorite author, wouldn’t it? I can’t really remember what triggered my interest in ancient Egypt; whether it was from the Encyclopedia or the movie Cleopatra, or even if it was one of those things. I just known I have had a lifelong interest in the art, architecture, and history of the ancient kingdom. (I also didn’t know how to pronounce pharaoh for years, pronouncing it “fair-ah-oh.”) I’ve also always wanted to write about Egypt; I’ve always been fascinated by Akhenaten and his religious revolution, and it’s aftermath–I also remember being endlessly interested in Tutankhamen. I know those Time/Life Great Ages of Man books triggered a lot of my imagination and interest in history.
I guess maybe I should have been an historian, and specialized in the sixteenth century. Oh, well. Coulda shoulda woulda never does anyone any good, does it?
If the weather is nice and lovely tomorrow, I think I am going to take a walk through the neighborhood with my phone, taking daytime pictures of Christmas decorations, and maybe on the night of Christmas Eve Eve, I’ll do it after I get home from work to capture them at night.
And on that note, I am going to go read for a bit before heading into the spice mines for the day. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again tomorrow.
The perspective on this shot is off, but in a kind of delightful way
Saturday in the Lost Apartment, although I suppose it’s Championship Saturday. I’ll have the games on for background noise but I don’t care about their outcomes. If they’re good games, I’ll watch; if not, I can just check in periodically while I do other things. I still need to put things away from yesterday’s Costco run, and some other touching up around here today, while organizing and pulling all my notes together for my new project, which I intend to commit to entirely tomorrow morning once I rise. Sparky let me sleep late this morning like the little darling he is, even cuddling with me the last few hours before I got up. I feel good and rested this morning. Paul is seeing his trainer today, and will inevitably (like always) spend a few more hours at the gym on the bike. I am looking to get back to the gym myself, probably after Mardi Gras. I feel terrific. My doctor agreed with me that I probably had been experiencing the colitis for several years before it finally got so bad this past spring, and was why I experienced so much fatigue. There’s also a possibility that I have “pernicious anemia” (I love the name. Pernicious–such a fun word!), an opportunistic autoimmune situation that sometimes tags along with colitis and causes Vitamin B-12 deficiency…which can affect memory and fatigue, and would require me to get a monthly shot. Yay.
I also have to get labs drawn again this coming Friday–the same day my next Skyrizi injection arrives in the mail.
We started watching Heated Rivalry last night, and I will have thoughts on it once we’ve finished. (And…it’s another one of those newsletter essays that will play into my series about masculinity.) I also caught up on the news last night after unloading the car and heating a pizza up for dinner. I am debating whether or not to watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, since I detest most of the cast and don’t enjoy watching it anymore. It’s not even a fun hate-watch anymore. I also started my reread of The Postman Always Rings Twice, which is so marvelous and nasty and, above all else, working class, that I see why it bothered people so much when it was originally published in the 1930s. It’s also hella racist, which I didn’t remember–which also explains the casting of Lana Turner in the film; no one would ever mistake her for Hispanic/Latino like Cora in the book. I am also very glad that I am rereading it, because it has that edge of nastiness that noir needs, and isn’t currently present in the first three chapters of Chlorine, and while roaming the aisles at Costco yesterday I was thinking about how to rewrite it. My main character is not a hero, and I have to remember that why I write him. That’s a significant mind shift for me when I write, really.
In football news, Tulane won their conference championship last night and are going to the play-offs for the first time in school history, but reports they were hiring LSU’s Brian Baker proved untrue as it was announced Baker would be staying on in Baton Rouge. LSU football is all over the news still down here, indicating a statewide level of excitement for the new coach that wasn’t there for Brian Kelly, ever, other than after that overtime win over Alabama his first year…but that excitement died down very quickly. Ironic that his best season was his first, rebuilding year, isn’t it? I think part of the excitement is joy at being rid of Kelly, frankly. I was willing to give him a chance, but he never really delivered.
At least he broke the streak of losing season openers that has plagued the Tigers this entire decade, and he did beat Alabama in a thriller in 2022. And he signed Jayden Daniels. Three good things out of almost four seasons.
And on that note, I am heading to my chair to read some more of Postman before getting cleaned up and getting to work on the apartment. I am also going to make chicken chili today, and some chicken salad for Paul. A very big day for me! It’s also gray and chilly and supposed to rain all day, too–an excellent day for reading under a blanket with the television on. I may watch an episode of The American Revolution, which I am really enjoying; it’s so nice to see our history without all the myths and legends that sprang up about it after the second world war.
So have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in on you again tomorrow morning, deal?
Tuesday morning and I didn’t want to get out of bed It’s just so comfortable, you know? I ended up not running errands yesterday on my way home from work (so will have to run them tonight, I reckon). I came home, did some things, and then became a cat bed while I caught up on the world burning to the ground. We started watching Untamed last night on Netflix, which is a crime show set in Yosemite with Eric Bana, and certainly held our interest. There were times when I couldn’t watch–standing on the edge of a cliff, or rapellers, trapped on the side of said cliff face–where the extremity of the straight drop unsettled me (I was also deeply uncomfortable watching that Spider-Man Homecoming scene at the Washington Monument) and so I went into the kitchen until said scenes were over. I thought I might have some of my recurring nightmares about falling from a great height, but thank God, I was spared that horror. But the show also shows off how beautiful Yosemite is; when I lived in California I was only a few hours away and I had friends who grew up in those mountains, so I went up there periodically. (I also fictionalized one of those towns as Woodbridge in Sorceress and Sleeping Angel. I have another partial manuscript set there as well, which I should finish at some point.)
I hate being afraid of heights. It’s been a lifelong thing for me, and it’s unusual in that some things bother me while other things don’t. I love roller coasters, but there’s not enough money in the world to get me on a Ferris wheel. Balconies don’t bother me, but windows where you can look straight down from a great height? No thank you. Looking out an airplane window doesn’t phase me in the least, but ski lifts are terrifying. (I did get a bit uncomfortable during Superman when he went up into space before hurtling back down to earth, too.) I don’t know so much that it’s a fear of heights so much as it is falling from a great height. Or is that the same thing? I don’t know.
We’re also in another heat advisory, through tonight at seven–like every day when the tropical weather isn’t threatening. Our forecast doesn’t show rain again until late tomorrow afternoon, and my sinuses have been behaving, which is a very good sign. I also don’t feel terribly tired and/or worn out this morning, either–despite not wanting to get out of bed, but that’s because I was comfortable and relaxed, more than wanting to sleep later. Don’t get me wrong, I could probably fall asleep again if I went back to bed, but I feel alert this morning more so than I have in a really long time. Maybe that means I can get things done tonight after work instead of being a cat bed for the evening.
And I really do have a lot of work to do at home tonight.
It also seems like the infusions are controlling the ulcerative colitis, for which I am very grateful. I have yet to eat anything that has triggered it back into gear again, and I am also very grateful for that. I also realized yesterday–with my birthday looming–that I am eligible for Medicare next year, so I need to start looking into that as well. I also need to look at the employee handbook to see whether the agency will keep my insurance the way it is, or if I need to go on Medicare after all. Sigh. I hate dealing with this sort of thing, which means I always put it off, scan it when I need to, and never really have a thorough understanding of whatever it is once I am signed up for it–like my current insurances, both health and car.
I also posted a newsletter talking about Superman yesterday; you can read it here. I didn’t say everything I wanted to about the character and how it developed over the years. I didn’t even mention the key element of his personality and who he is: a symbol of hope. Truth be told, I could write about Superman every day for the rest of my life…well, I’d probably have to substitute other super-heroes along the way…but he is an excellent place to start. I hate that my memory has become so bad over the last few years–so much I don’t remember a lot anymore–that I don’t recall everything I’ve read about Superman (and/or DC Comics) over the years.
And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines for the day. Have a lovely and happy Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will check back in with you in the morning tomorrow, okay?
Wednesday morning and the midpoint of the week. Huzzah! Yes, I am back to wishing my life away, as my mother used to call it. But I can abide, you know? I wasn’t rested properly yesterday, I don’t think, or else it was the off-and-on rain/thunderstorms we had yesterday. That wet cold air inside the office just makes me want to curl up somewhere and go to sleep under my pile of blankets, which makes the workday a bit of a slog. Ah, well. It’s supposed to continue like this until the weekend or so, when it’ll just be hot and sunny and humid and miserable. Yay! And Monday is my next infusion (second of three). Soon I’ll be giving myself shots. Can’t wait…although everyone tells me it’s easy; it’s a pre-loaded pen-like device I just need to stick myself with. And it’s not like my job hasn’t gotten me used to sticking myself and other people over the years. Sigh. It’s hard for me, sometimes, to wrap my mind around the whole this is the rest of your life thing. But it could be worse–it can always be worse–so I will accept this and not let it bug me. I’m sure I’ll eventually get so used to it I won’t even give it a second thought. It’s always the first time, you know? Just like I was nervous about the infusion (when they tell you all the things to look out for during, it can be a bit scary: “if you can’t breathe or have shortness of breath”, you know, things like that) until I did it for the first time.
Definitely will be bringing my book with me on Monday.
I guess Ann Coulter got tired of not being a part of the ICE raids and so decided to glorify genocide on social media, suggesting that the European genocide of indigenous Americans didn’t go far enough? She wound up deleting the post, which is more shocking than the post, to be honest; she’s always been one of those “freedom of speech means I can say the most disgusting things without apology” advocates. Ann Coulter has always been hot sewage, and back in the day she used to compete with Rush Limbaugh to see who could say the most revolting, inhuman kind of shit. Back in the 1990s, as I saw my parents and family getting sucked in more and more by Fox News1, I used to actually read books by right-wingers, including Ann Coulter. (My primary takeaway was they needed to hire better ghostwriters.) Don’t ever forget that Coulter also wrote the introduction to Phyllis Schlafly’s autobiography, and Schlafly was a monster. Like attracts like, I suppose. But since she turned on Trump for not being racist enough in his first term (she probably orgasms with every news report about ICE and Alligator Auschwitz), she’s not as popular on the right as she used to be; how very dare she be critical of MAGA’s God Emperor? I mean, she can’t even get booked on her ex-lover Bill Maher’s show anymore. But she deleted the post. What the fuck, Fraulein Coulter? Outrage used to be what got you out of bed in the morning and paid your bills. I certainly don’t believe she grew a conscience in her sixties.
After the stolen election of 2000, I no longer needed to read right-winger’s books because I didn’t really know what I was gaining by reading them anymore–I used to think it was better to know what they were thinking and saying, but this century, they’ve pretty much started saying the private stuff out loud. It’s impossible to go on-line or watch any news or anything without knowing what the Right’s position on anything and everything is–but you can be sure it’s rooted in racism, misogyny, and homophobia…same as it ever was, same as it ever will be.
Plus, sharing what I learned from reading those books and proximity to right wing voters? I was never believed by anyone on the left, so I just wound up being Cassandra on the walls of Troy…and truly understood her madness. It’s horrible not being believed…but everything I warned about is coming true.
Sigh.
It rained off and on all day yesterday–we even got a flash flood advisory in the afternoon–and I wasn’t really fully and completely mentally functional yesterday. My brain was loopy and my body was fatigued; I felt all day like I could go back to bed without a problem. When I got home from work I did some chores (didn’t finish them, though–there’s a load of laundry that needs to be fluffed and folded, and I need to finish the dishes to load in the dishwasher), and then worked on editing for a while. It didn’t go well, but I made progress, and I do feel more awake and rested so far this morning, so maybe tonight will go super-well. Stranger things have occurred, after all. We also watched the second to last episode of We Were Liars after Paul got home (later than usual), and then I went to bed earlier than usual. I think I need to get back into the going to bed at nine thing again. I also didn’t read anything last night because by the time I sat in my chair my brain was misfiring again. Heavy sigh. Maybe tonight? I think I just need to get back into the writing habit again; everything is still rusty and the gears don’t shift accordingly. so I need to retrain my brain and my body and my creativity into productivity again.
I can do it, I know I can.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Hump Day, Constant Reader, and I will be back again tomorrow morning.
I really appreciate the fact that the majority of pro wrestlers today focus more on their fitness–and have much better bodies than the ones in my youth did.I can easily see this dude dancing shirtless at Oz during Southern Decadence.
In fairness, they were always right-wing; Rush and Fox just confirmed what they thought. ↩︎
Monday morning, and the first infusion to treat the ulcerative colitis. I have no idea what this is going to be like or what it will do to me or how it will make me feel for the rest of the day, so who knows what is in store for me today? I did do some reading–interestingly enough, the treatment I am getting is also the treatment for plaque psoriasis, which I also have (it’s been under control since I got some steroid shots for it last year)–and there are some side effects to the treatment, which I hopefully won’t experience, either. The part I always forget is that I am immunocompromised now, and the medication will also negatively impact my immune system. I have to be very careful going forward about getting sick, need to have my liver monitored, and I also need to beware of tuberculosis. But after the infusion I am heading into the office for the rest of the day, so we’ll see how that goes.
I didn’t write much yesterday (like a bad boy) but I will tonight after work, depending on how I feel from the transfusion. I did get some things done around here and took a lot of notes so progress was made, but we basically spent the day watching the end of The Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, which was fun; Julianne Moore’s dark new movie on Apple Plus, Echo Valley, which was interesting; before moving onto a Spanish-language Mexican show on MAX, Coyotl: Man and Beast, starring our old Spanish-language crush, Alejandro Spiezer. I also finished Incident at Loring Groves (more on that later) and picked out Sing Me a Death Song by Jay Bennett (my favorite y/a writer of all time; definitely more on that forgotten crime master later) to be my next y/a read. I’m taking Summerhouse with me to read during the infusion; two to two and a half hours of being forced to lie down with an IV in my arm is a good time to read, don’t you think?
We also had some marvelous thunderstorms last night; there was a major one, with some of the longest thunder I can recall. It was one of those “lots and lots of rain in a very short period of time” storms we have here all the time, which is a kind of tropical rain, I suppose. I slept really deeply and well–didn’t want to get up this morning, frankly, which made Sparky the Hungry Alarm Cat very agitated. He was very cuddly last night, too, as I sat in my chair writing notes in my journal; he climbed up and gave me some head butts before wanting head scratches, collapsing his entire body into me and not letting me stop scratching his head for about half an hour before it was bedtime. I like that he is finally becoming more affectionate and cuddly as he gets older–although he can flip into demon cat who wants to play rough at any moment. Usually head scratches devolve into him playing with fangs and claws out within seconds, so I was a bit surprised at how long he put up with my affection last night.
LSU plays UCLA tonight in the College World Series at six tonight, so I’ll have to get home from work quickly tonight so I can get some things done around the house before the game starts.
I feel rested this morning, and this isn’t a very long week. I only have to go into the office or three days this week with the holiday falling on Thursday this year, which is kind of nice. I need to get some writing done–I probably won’t finish everything I want to send out for submission calls, because I won’t make the deadlines, but that’s nothing new. I was looking around yesterday, trying to remember all the stories I’ve not finished that might work for submission somewhere (picked one out for Ellery Queen), and remembered even more as I filed and put things away last night. It’s also weird how my short stories often veer into the occult and the macabre. I also, when going back to something I’ve not worked on for a while and thus have new eyes to bring to it, am amazed at how quickly I can see what is wrong with the story and why it doesn’t work–and often, it’s because of the tone and the voice.
Ah, well, time to get cleaned up and head out on the highway for today’s infusion. I doubt I’ll be back today, so will let you know how it went tomorrow morning. Have a great Monday, Constant Reader!
Well, yesterday was a disruption from the usual routine, wasn’t it?
The water was out at the office, as I may have mentioned as an addendum yesterday, so we couldn’t see patients and we all got an unexpected remote day. I hadn’t slept well Sunday night, so I was a bit tired and not a bit sorry to work from home, shamefully. I did get some work done, and I also loaded the dishwasher and got that chore finished. I also cleaned out the refrigerator, got rid of some old things close to turning, and reorganized it in there. I was still tired for most of the evening, but am pretty pleased with what I did manage to get done.
I hate starting out the week tired like that. I also was, I think, in calorie deficit and hadn’t brought near enough food to work to stave that off because I was starving when I got home. I stopped on the way home to get peanut butter and Creole tomatoes (they are sooooo good; I love Creole tomato season), and made a massive gyro when I got home. And was hungry for dinner, later, too. I can’t remember eating this much, ever, in my life before. And since I have disordered eating habits1, I do worry about eating so much and trying to gain weight, since it has been antithetical to my mental state and self-image of you need to lose some weight for so fucking long.
It’s very weird to be in my mid-sixties, yet still thinking about my disordered eating and body image issues. I used to think when I got older that would all go away. But it really didn’t, did it? I slowed down and did gain weight, of course, between fifty and sixty, and wondered if that was it, you know? But it would rear its ugly head in bad eating habits again, always. Conferences are dangerous for me because I will literally forget to eat–although I am doing better about that (he says, despite falling into the worst illness of his life after his last conference–but they were not related, much as I thought they might be; the dehydration and exhaustion exacerbated the UC).
But I did sleep well last night and feel good this morning. LSU managed to come back from the 5-1 deficit they faced after the second inning to win 10-6 (GEAUX TIGERS!) and now it’s on the Super Regional to see if they make it to Omaha and the World Series. How exciting and fun for them! Thanks, boys! A few more weeks of baseball are in the offing, which is always fun.
I did actually get some writing work done last night, too–not actual writing per se, but prep work. I also did some thinking about other stories and projects that I am currently working on, which was very cool, and I started reading Summerhouse, which was a very pleasant surprise, as the main characters are older and have been together for forty years; the book opens on their fortieth anniversary, and it’s kind of interesting read. (I’ve been thinking about writing about older characters since reading Laura Lippman’s Murder Takes a Vacation, and so that’d been on my mind.) I’ve not gotten very far into it, but will read some more of it tonight when I get home, as well as advancing in both The Dark on the Other Side and Mystery of the Haunted Mine.
And maybe–just maybe–I can get some actual writing done. I almost finished today’s Pride newsletter last night; I need to look it over and make changes and write probably another paragraph or two.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Happy Tuesday everyone, and I’ll be back tomorrow or perhaps later. No one knows.
The gorgeous Steve Reeves, mid-twentieth century bodybuilding champion and star of Italian muscle movies.
Not the same thing as an eating disorder; disordered eating is simply a bad relationship with food and eating, which I have had my entire life–there will be more about this to come. ↩︎
I was sent home from the hospital yesterday morning. I have ulcerative colitis; which falls under the “irritable bowel syndrome” family of gastrointestinal disorders. As bad as I was, it could have still been worse. The significant weight loss (which all my gay male friends wanted to know the secret–um, do not recommend) was intense and scary; when I saw the specialist Tuesday afternoon he saw my tests results and admitted me immediately. I wound up spending six days in total in the hospital; a “forced vacation with rest”, as a friend put it. It was weird; I’ve never been attended to hand-and-foot that way before, let alone hovered over and monitored–well, by anyone outside my mother. Almost every one of the nurses at some point mentioned how nice I was and such a lovely patient to work with–see how sick I was? At the same time, I was always polite, didn’t ask them to do much for me, and always said please and thank you. Do people not have good manners anymore? You’re taking care of me, of course I’m going to treat you with respect.
But it’s nice to know what is wrong at last, and even nicer to know there was nothing I could have done to prevent it from happening. I went back on solid food after the colonoscopy–bingeing television means lots of food ads; I don’t think I’ve ever been that hungry before–and I do feel much better. I’m still weak from the weight loss, and perhaps not as steady on my feet as I should be, but I was also pretty much in bed for a week, so not that surprising, really.
I also feel rested, which is nice, and has been a while since I’ve felt this way. Another reminder that I need to take better care of myself, and pay more attention to my body when it’s trying to tell me I am reaching a flashpoint. I did have a mental collapse during the illness, but it was also before I went into the hospital. I did get also get a cool idea of how to repurpose a failed novel manuscript, but for the most part I turned my brain off and let it relax. I have no idea what’s going on in the rest of the world (other than an American pope with New Orleans ties), and I kind of don’t want to find out.
I also am taking this week off from writing stress.
And now, I am going to head into the spice mines. Have a great Monday, and I’ll be back in the morning.
Queer and Loathing in America 