Blame It On Your Heart

It’s Pay the Bills Wednesday again! Huzzah? HUZZAH! Christmas Eve is a week from today (gulp). I guess that means I am not going to do Christmas cards this year. At least I got them out of the cabinet, right? Maybe next year. It was bitterly cold yesterday morning, and again wore a sweater and layers, so it wasn’t horrible. I was very productive at the office yesterday, was granted the day after Christmas off so I have a five day weekend next week, which will be lovely and relaxing. I also managed to get a lot of chores done around the house while catching up on the news and relaxing a bit. But the sink is empty and the laundry is folded; and tonight on the way home I’ll go all the way uptown and get the mail. There should also be a new episode of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City waiting for me to watch when I get home from that expedition, and there’s really no need to make groceries tonight; there’s plenty of things at home for me to make for dinner, should I need to.

I spent a good portion of free time yesterday laughing uproariously at the new issue of Vanity Fair and its glorious feature on the White House staff. I had let my subscription lapse because I no longer wanted the clutter of a print copy I would never get around to even paging through, or pay for an on-line subscription when I would never read more than one article every few months? Celebrity culture bores me for the most part, and the notion they considered putting Mrs. Canks on their cover didn’t exactly endear the magazine to me (yes, I know the staff rebelled against the new owner’s suggestion to do so, but I also figured it was just a matter of time until everyone was fired and the value of the magazine devalued and devolved) or make me want to subscribe again; but this? The photographs alone are works of art; framed and shot and angled and lit to show precisely how small and insignificant these monsters are; banal and ugly and boring and utterly devoid of class or taste. Madam “Press Secretary” may never recover from that brutal extreme close-up exposing the lines and enormous pores and the lip filler injection marks. The photographer deserves a Pulitzer Prize, and future generations will study these images–un-retouched, unfiltered–to try to make sense of this period of history. That is a futility destined for failure, for one cannot make sense of the insensible.

And you know they were all puffed up and excited to be in Vanity Fair‘s cover story, thinking about how cool and bad-ass they are…only to expose how ill-qualified they are to be in the positions they are in.

So yes, I might be subscribing again–but only for web access. I just don’t need more clutter. Texas Monthly remains my only magazine subscription, and I love that magazine so much (I do get 64 Parishes, the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities magazine, but for some reason I don’t consider that a magazine subscription. Can’t explain it, that’s just how it is–and you should consider getting both) I can’t see myself giving up the physical copy any time soon. But yes, the more I pare down the less I want to bring in–which, given my need to always be surrounded by stacks and shelves of books, is kind of a win on that score. I don’t buy many books, at least certainly not on the scale that I used to. I think there is a sense of finality in realizing the reality that I may never read every book I have in the house before exiting this world, and that has made a significant difference…not that I think about dying all the time or even frequently; I think I am just more aware of the time limitations and the sands running out slowly in the hourglass of my life

It was so lovely to come down to an organized kitchen, with an empty sink, clear counters, and the rugs in their right place. I slept very well last night, too. It stayed cold through my drive home from work, but this morning its in the mid-fifties so no need for any layering today; I can brave the outside dressed normally. It’s supposed to rain a bit today, but we are getting a lot over the weekend, and it’s bringing warm weather behind it. The forecast is eighty for Christmas. Eighty.

Madness, indeed!

And on that note, Constant Reader, I am heading into the spice mines. May your Wednesday be marvelous and filled with joy, Constant Reader, and I will be back toorrow morning.

The Joke

And here we are on Sunday morning, rested and refreshed and ready to dive into my last day off for this weekend. I slept late again today, after not having much of a busy day; mostly, I watched football games while doing chores and reading. LSU lost, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be. And who knew that Auburn-Vanderbilt would be the game of the day? It was the best I’ve seen Auburn play all season, and it was a shame they lost in overtime. Apparently, Kentucky shellacked Florida last night, too. Tulane played Friday night, and they also won, continuing to be the pride of Louisiana football. Roll Wave!

As I read deeper into The Hunting Wives, the book continues to deviate from the show (which was very fun) and the tone is very different. I will, of course, write about the book and the show once I’ve finished reading it. I had also pushed off writing about Boots until after Halloween, and now I am not sure I remember it well enough to write about it. Ah, well, I have some other newsletters that I need to get written, too. I had a crisis of confidence last night about Chlorine; which is normal for me, I think. (I was spending some time plotting the story and had one of those you’re going to blow this great idea moments; which is self-defeating and the entire point of those wretched kind of thoughts and spirals. Those are holdovers from untreated anxiety, and if I let them run their course without allowing them to take root, they always pass. I’m confident about it again this morning, so this methodology definitely seems to work.) I’ll probably read some more this morning before I hop into the shower and get cleaned up. I am making my own version of Swedish meatballs later on, too.

The cold apparently will descend upon us later today. It’s warm this morning, if cloudy; we’ll probably have thunderstorms in the evening and overnight as the temperature drops to a low of 37 (!!!) overnight. Yesterday was lovely when I ran my errands; I also spent some time pruning the books down again. You can actually see the dent I made in my book hoarder stacks! This is enormously pleasing, and while I did end up putting some books back into the stacks that I considered donating (they intrigued me again while looking at them), I did make the kind of progress I wanted. Maybe next weekend I can be even more ruthless…I mean, some of these I bought ten years or so ago and still haven’t read; maybe it’s time to set them free so someone else can enjoy them instead of collecting dust here in the Lost Apartment, right? And at least I paid for them.

I was also thinking yesterday about my newsletter/blog/personal essays, and how I am always so reluctant to talk deeply about my affinity for some authors and the books I love because I don’t have a degree in Literature and don’t read extensively academic explorations of literature, which makes me fear that anything I might have to say might have already been said (multiple times) by any number of Lit professors, and been dissected, deconstructed, and developed through vigorous debate and argument. It was more self-defeating talk; I may not have read as much of the classics as I maybe should have (most of which I didn’t enjoy in the least) or practiced such things on classics in the collegiate classroom (some day, I will discuss at great length my many failures at secondary education), but ultimately, it always boils down to opinion, doesn’t it? The newsletter essays also aren’t something I generally just write off the top of my head as I experience them; they marinate for a while in my head and I may take more than one run at the topic, too, before sharing them with my slowly growing subscription base. (This blog, on the other hand, is whatever comes to mind in the morning as I drink my coffee, and yawn and stretch and try to come alive.) That’s why I decided to separate opinion essays on movies, books, and television out from here to the newsletter, which eases the time burden on thinking about culture I consume. And the essays are supposed to be creative outlets for me to write about things that interest me, and I have soooo many varied interests.

And it also allows me to write personal essays about my life and past. I am writing one now that was inspired by going to my parents’ high school’s Homecoming game the last time I went up to Alabama. I also thought some yesterday, not just about Chlorine but several other things I am writing or have in progress that I’d love to get off my desk throughout the end of this year and next. I think maybe finishing all this work in progress might make me feel a little less harried and frenzied and behind on everything? Who knows?

And on that note, my book is calling to me, so I am going to head to my easy chair to do some reading. Have a great Sunday and I will be back in the morning.

Maidens supporting a roof on the Acropolis, Athens.

Wagon Wheel

Looks like Wednesday Pay-the-Bills Day has rolled around again, woo-hoo! Apparently another cold front is swooping down on us from the frozen north; temperatures dipping down into the forties (!!!!) this weekend. The meteorologists are also saying we’re done with temperatures in the 80s until spring–but I am not holding my breath on that one. New Orleans weather always has a habit of making forecasters look foolish because, well, it’s New Orleans weather. It snowed earlier this year, for example.1 But I am actually enjoying this respite from the heat and humidity, and I am sleeping like a stone every night since the weather changed, which is delightful. Even the time change wasn’t as disruptive as it usually is–although last night I fell asleep in my chair around eight-ish, which used to be nine-ish. But I don’t mind. I didn’t get much done when I got home from work yesterday, because I was feeling tired, and Sparky was feeling needy. I did run some errands on the way home, getting the mail and picking up prescriptions (two more will be ready for pick-up today, I think), but once I was home, I didn’t really do a lot of anything. I was on edge a bit about yesterday’s elections, but checked the news before going to bed and saw that the Reich Wing was getting trounced everywhere–so much for MAGA’s popularity–and was even more delighted to see this morning that those results held. Three seats in Mississippi’s state house flipped Democratic, too–in Mississippi. MISSISSIPPI. Think about that for a moment…and what it implies about the midterms. I’m feeling hopeful, at least for this morning at any rate.

Darth Cheney died, and there was a massive blue wave. Who could ask for anything more? If voters are this angry with MAGA now, imagine how the midterms could go. What a lovely way for November to start, am I right?

Today is going to be a busy one at work. Our nurse is out, and it’s just me in the clinic today. Undoubtedly I will be exhausted when I get home tonight, but I also decided last night to go back and finish reading The Hunting Wives (which was interrupted by Halloween Horror Month), since I was only a chapter into the Scott Carson. I will be rejiggering my reading schedule and what is up next over the next few days. I do need to get caught up a bit on my Donna Andrews, so I can listen to one of her Christmas mysteries on the way up to Kentucky later this month for Thanksgiving. I am not dreading that drive as much as I usually do, and I suppose this is the first major test of the recovery, isn’t it? Twelve hours in a car? But the key is to take my time and not get stressed about anything, and I may even try going a different way–through Nashville and up the Cumberland Parkway. Anything to avoid Chatta-fucking-nooga. I’ll drive home the old way, most likely, but it’s not a bad thing to shake things up a little bit, is it?

I did watch some more Appalachian lore videos last night, which are always fun and inspiring. I started thinking about the next Scotty last night–trying to land on a title and a time of the year, leaning towards Halloween Party Hijinks–which is also kind of fun. I have no idea what the plot of that would be, but I always have to have the title and the time of the year first. Does it make any sense? Not in the least, but I am extremely different from every other writer out there; not better nor worse, just different when it comes to writing and the writing process. I want to work some more on my novella tonight, too. So far, tomorrow looks like a very easy day in the clinic, despite again not having a nurse and working the schedule entirely on my own, which will wear me out for sure.

Oh, and People named Jonathan Bailey as the first openly gay Sexiest Man Alive. Yesterday was a very good day, wasn’t it? To be fair, he definitely is one of the sexiest men alive, and it’s not something that I ever pay that much attention to–the last one I remember was the joke selection of Blake Shelton (bitch, please) and that was nearly ten years ago–but this is landmark, and also a bitch-slap to the mouth-breathing haters. I’m actually surprised President Stillson hasn’t whined about never being picked for this…

And on that note, I should pay some bills before I head into the office.

Have a lovely mid-week Wednesday, and I will be back tomorrow morning for sure, for sure.

  1. The snow days, and the novelty of snow, was fun…but not something I want to experience all the time. ↩︎

Bury a Friend

Thursday morning and my last day in the office for the week. We’re busy today, and I am working alone in the clinic. Yay. I imagine I will be very tired tonight when I get home from work. Meh, it happens. I wasn’t so tired when I got home last night and got quite a bit of daily minutiae done: laundry, dishes, made groceries, and picked up a bit. Paul wasn’t home before I went to bed. If I’m not that tired tonight, I should be able to get some other chores done so I don’t need to worry about them this weekend, and I can focus on writing. I also finished my newsletter about Scream and why I enjoy it so much, check it out if you are so inclined. I still have at least one more Halloween newsletter to do, which I am going to try to get done and posted no later than Saturday; depends on how much time I have and how rested I feel. I feel good this morning, though; another good night of sleep is in the books.

Praise be, seriously.

The weather did turn yesterday, too. It was very windy, and that wind was cold. When I went out to get the groceries from the driver last night, I was shivering as I pulled the wagon back to the apartment. It’s in the fifties this morning, and the high is only going to be about sixty-seven or so. Autumn is finally here. We’ll still have the occasional really warm, sunny day, but the weather will be bipolar from now until after Carnival. The time change is also this weekend, which means going to work in the dark and coming home after dark. (It always bugs me when I am at work during the only hours of sunlight during the day; it feels oppressive.) The downstairs floor also felt cold to my stockinged feet this morning before I found my slippers. Yay! Now that we have a heating system that actually keeps the apartment warm, I welcome the coldness because I feel so snug and comfy inside…and that’s probably my favorite feeling these days.

Turns out the escaped monkeys were not infected with anything, so they were all slaughtered for no good reason other than it was easier to shoot them, rather than catching them. Heavy sigh. I hate waste, really. (Speaking of which, I need to clean the refrigerator, too; add to list.) So, yeah, not nearly as interesting or exciting as initially reported, truly a tragedy after all, and no interest in writing about it anymore….but it’s not a bad idea; escaped plague monkeys in Mississippi, coming from Tulane. Too bad Bad Monkey is already taken as a title. Monkey Shines would be a good title, though…so is Monkey Business.

It’s a thought.

And of course I am already writing the first chapter–the truck driver’s POV–in my head.

I’ve not really done much writing this week the way I wanted to; I really do need to update that to-do list, don’t I? My goal was to get a good first draft of Chlorine done in November, and then work on some short stories and novellas in December before getting a first draft of Muscles done in January. A lot of it has to do with finding a way around fatigue and trying not to get burned out at the same time. I mean, I can write a frigging shitload of words when I am inspired and have the time; so again, I am starting to resent having to go to work every morning…and have to remind myself that I love my job, and I need the health insurance. Some day, though. Some day.

And on that note, I am going to finish eating breakfast and head into this morning’s spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday and I will see you again tomorrow morning, okay?

Goo Goo Muck

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday! Another good night’s sleep, another morning of not wanting to get out of the warm and oh-so-comfy bed. I was tired yesterday when I got home from work, and thus didn’t get much of anything done other than cuddling with Sparky and catching up on the news, which is always exhausting and tiring. I did also get to go to bed early last night, too–maybe I should start going to bed at nine instead of between nine-thirty and ten; I certainly fall asleep in my chair well before that.

There’s a new storm in the gulf (Caribbean Sea, actually) formed and no one seems to know where it was going to go–which is always a lovely thing for late October. Her name this time is Michelle, and again it’s very weird to have a hurricane formed and sitting down there off Venezuela when I had my editorial call about Hurricane Season Hustle. My editor loved the book, which is always lovely, and there’s very little for me to do as far as revisions and edits, which is super-nice. The experience of writing this book wasn’t a pleasant one, but it really didn’t have anything to do with the actual writing of the book but everything that went on while I was writing the book. This has colored how I feel about the book, honestly, which is yet another example of why an editor is necessary. But I am very happy it is almost done and out of my hands, and it’s been a hot minute since I had a novel come out….and this is a February 2026 release date. Huzzah!

And now I need to start getting ready to push my way through the next one I want to write, which, at long last, is Chlorine, and I am very excited at finally being able to sink my teeth into this one. I am thinking about doing another Scotty next year, and maybe even a new Chanse (long shot) for the year that series, now ended, turns 25. Twenty-five. The Scotty series turns 25 in 2028…yikes, you know? Of course I don’t want to think about how old I will be on those momentous occasions…oh, that’s a lie. I don’t care that I’m old and getting older every day. I only think of it in the terms of wow that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

I’ve also been learning that I need to be more careful with my words and shouldn’t use some as interchangeably as I always, flippantly, have done. For one example, I’m used to using tired as a catch-all for everything; but there are differences between the feelings that tired doesn’t really adequately convey what I am feeling. This morning, I feel a bit sleepy physically; I’m not tired or fatigued, but like part of my body still hasn’t completely woken up yet. My mind is firing on every cylinder. So, I am trying to use fatigue because it’s more accurate than saying tired; brain fog for that horrible mental feeling; and sleepy for “want to go to, or back to, bed.” You’d think a writer would always be careful with their words, but me? Not so much. I am trying to be better about that, though.

I am loving this low 80’s daytime/mid-60’s at night weather, and it’s going to dip even more next week–going into the low 70’s and mid-50s at night. Hurray for a lower power bill! And next Friday is Halloween! How has that happened already? Heavy sigh. It’s been a rough year, so I probably should be happier that it went by so fast.

And on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will see you in the morning on “last day in the office Thursday for the week.”

I love the juxtaposition between the ancient temple and the modern architecture.

Bend Me Shape Me

Tuesday morning here after a relatively easy day in the spice mines. We weren’t very busy in the clinic (I had to cover again), and I was able to get a lot of work done in the office to get caught up. Huzzah! I stopped and made groceries on the way home, and once I was home, I strapped myself into the desk chair (despite Sparky’s whining) and worked for several hours on the book, and yes…I have found Scotty’s voice again. (Better late than never, right?) So that work also went well, and Paul and I caught up on a show we watch just before retiring for the evening. I slept extremely well again, and feel rested and alert this morning. I also don’t feel sore anywhere, which I hope will last for a while. I don’t think we’re very busy today in the clinic, either, which means I can catch up in my administrative duties even more today. Huzzah!

It’s also dark outside the windows this morning, since the equinox has already passed but the time change won’t occur for another full month or so–they moved it back to November, didn’t they? It was a very nice day, with not much humidity so it felt much cooler than usual for the month, and we’re almost to October…so I don’t know that the humidity won’t have one last hurrah? But it’s been very pleasant since the week before Bouchercon, and that’s been a lovely thing. We’re supposed to get rain today and the next couple of days (a significant shift from the weekend’s forecast, which said we wouldn’t get any this week, and I am delighted to know that isn’t, actually, the case), although the chances aren’t particularly high. But 20% chance is better than zero percent chance, amirite?

Apparently, today is supposedly the Rapture–which isn’t even in the Bible, of course–yet again; I’ve lost track of how many times Christians have promised us they’ll be leaving the planet only to sorely disappoint those of us who’d be delighted to get rid of that trash. I do keep meaning to go back and reread Revelations again–I want to write an essay about end times mythology, which would include The Omen–and I’ve also been going down wormholes lately about the Book of Enoch, which was excluded from the Christian Bible by that Nicaean Council (at whose feet so many of humanity’s worst problems can be lain) but is very interesting. A lot of religious-based fiction actually comes from Enoch; the Nephilim and the Sons of God and the giants and so forth, which is very interesting. (I’ve always wanted to write about the Nephilim, or at least one Nephilim character.) Does anyone know what time the Raptured are going to be leaving? Or is this yet another false fucking alarm, since no one knows the mind or will of God?

Heretics. Seriously.

And maybe–just maybe–the Book of Enoch can be the key to this Colin book I’ve wanted to write for decades now.

Because I don’t have enough books to write as it is, do I? #madness

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to do some chores when I get home from work tonight–the dishes are out of control again, which means so is the kitchen–and it shouldn’t take me long to get it under control again so I can do some more writing. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I’ll be back on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday yet again!

Antinous as Osiris. Easy to see why Hadrian was obsessed, isn’t it?

Love American Style

Monday and it’s back to the office with me. This weekend is Labor Day, which also means it’s Southern Decadence in the French Quarter, which used to be one of my favorite weekends of the year–when I was younger and had more stamina and staying out all night didn’t put me into a coma for a week. I’m enormously pleased to have an extra day off this weekend, and then of course the week after that is Bouchercon. I am not registered, and am only seeing people I want to see. I used to get excited for Bouchercon as much as I’d get excited about Decadence, but alas–those days have passed as well.

And if my last Bouchercon was San Diego, that’s an excellent one to go out on. I had such an amazing time at that one…it would be hard to top that weekend.

I am sure it will come as no surprise to anyone that I didn’t get much done yesterday despite the best laid plans of mice and men. Paul’s trainer cancelled at the last minute, and so I ended up hanging out with Paul (which is always my choice if it’s an option) while I tried to get some things done. I did make some progress, but we wound up getting sucked into the US Open for most of the day. And of course there’s an entire day of college football this Saturday, capped off with LSU at Clemson in the evening. Everyone is predicting LSU to lose, and given the Tigers haven’t won a season opener since Joe Burrow graduated…I can understand the mentality. I’ve no doubt Clemson will be good this year, and I have no doubt that playing at Clemson isn’t easy.

I do feel rested this morning, I have to say, and that’s a nice feeling to wade into another Monday and a new week. I don’t like being tired on Monday mornings for obvious reasons…and I also have a lot to get done today at the office. No worries, since I am not client facing today so I can get a lot of the Admin work taken care of today and be caught up, which is always a rather nice feeling. I also need to update and rewrite my to-do list, which I also need to keep referring to–at least ONCE a day, as opposed to my usual “make the list and never look at it again,” which is highly counterintuitive. Heavy heaving sigh. And some of the things I have to do this week are absolutely things I don’t want to deal with. Ah, well, tis life, isn’t it?

The weather was insanely beautiful this past weekend; that cold front affecting most areas north of here dropped the temperatures into the 80’s and also displaced the humidity, so it was sunny and gorgeous with cool breezes everywhere. I walked to Walgreens yesterday and didn’t even break a sweat–not even my socks got damp. It’s going to be more normal this week, they say, with the humidity coming back with a vengeance so it’ll be a sweaty Decadence this weekend–which of course is a tradition; everyone drenched in sweat and their brief attire plastered to their bodies. If I could still park at the office on Frenchmen Street, I might even drop by down there this weekend just to refresh my memories of what Decadence is like–or see how it’s different from the last time I went down there (pre-pandemic) or how little it’s changed.

I taped a radio/podcast yesterday morning with host Dan White (who is always fun) along with friends John Copenhaver and Robyn Gigl yesterday morning to help promote Crime Ink: Iconic, which is releasing on September 2nd, next Tuesday to be exact. I was very pleased to hear nice commentary on my story yesterday, and that gave me some high hopes for the future of Never Kiss a Stranger, should I ever complete the damned thing. I also have to pick something out to read for Noir at the Bar next Thursday…it would probably be smart to read from my story from the anthology, but it’s not really noir. I am leaning towards reading “This Town” again; I’ve only read it publicly once, and why not? I am proud of the story and it does lend itself to being read aloud.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have yourself a merry little Monday, Constant Reader. I’ll be back tomorrow!

Michelangelo’s David’s hand. Stunning, isn’t it?

Whenever I Call You “Friend”

Good morning, Sunday! I slept late again this morning despite Sparky’s best efforts, and after all those years of insomnia, I do enjoy getting up later. Yesterday was a pretty decent day, overall. I did some things, ran some errands, did chores and kind of overdid it…I was tired by the mid-afternoon, so just hung out in my chair with Sparky in my lap, and we watched some television while Paul dozed on and off for the rest of the day. Some of what we watched was research, so it’s not like I blew off the entire day or anything. The weather has also cooled; it was in the mid-eighties yesterday with a very low degree of humidity so it was actually pleasant outside (and yes, calling the mid-eighties pleasant and almost fall-like is an indication of how hellishly hot here these last few months)–supposed to be similar today, and since I have to walk to Walgreens later on, I’m hoping it is just like yesterday. I think we’re supposed to have cooler weather the rest of the week? The Katrina anniversary is also this Friday–so glad it’s my work-at-home day.

We finished watching Smoke last night and we really enjoyed it. Taron Egerton is a terrific actor, and I love Jurnee Smollett in everything I see her in. There were lots of twists and turns, and the show changes its centering in almost every episode, with some very clever writing sleight-of-hand along the way that always keeps you guessing. It was very well done, and I do recommend it.

I also watched the HBO documentary The Serial Killer’s Apprentice (I also have the book in my TBR stack). I’ve been interested in the Dean Corll/Candyman murders since I first heard about them when I lived in Houston back in 1989-1991, and one of my future projects is rooted in that horrific true crime story. We certainly do know a lot more about psychology, abuse, and grooming nowadays, and so Dr. Katherine Ramsland, who wrote the book based on her interviews with Corll’s teenaged ‘helper’, Elmer Wayne Henley Jr. The documentary doesn’t get into what Corll and his helpers did to those poor boys, but it was horrific. One torture detail that has stuck in my mind all these years since I first heard about the case and read a book about it–I don’t remember the title, but it was fairly old and was written shortly after the trials, and wasn’t terribly long. (When I talk about The Summer of Lost Boys, that’s my Candyman book.) Watching this documentary gave me some other ideas about how to write and structure said book.

I also had the television on for background noise while I was cleaning and doing things yesterday, and tuned in for the Kansas State-Iowa State game from Dublin (KSU lost). I cannot believe it’s football season already, with LSU playing this coming Saturday at Clemson.

The Cracker Barrel uproar from the MAGA morons has been incredibly amusing, but they do have a point. The redesign of the interiors is soulless and horrible, but as for removing the old man and the barrel and the words “old country store” off their logo? It is just rebranding to try to get a new customer base since theirs is dying off. Why is change so hard and terrifying for people to accept? I’ll never understand the perpetual victimhood of right-wingers, myself–yet they call us snowflakes. God, there are few things I despise more than hypocrisy. The only constant in life is change, so fighting change is a fool’s errand, and I sure don’t have time for that, although it sure seems a lot of other people do. It must be nice having a life that allows you the energy and time to waste bitching about a corporate decision that ultimately doesn’t affect or impact anyone in any way, shape or form.

But they have opinions, and of course, it’s the libs’ fault, even though most of couldn’t possibly give less of a shit about Cracker Barrel’s logo. But that redesign of the restaurant space is a mistake, a very big mistake. I maybe eat at a Cracker Barrel once a year with Dad when I’m in Kentucky, but that’s about it. Cracker Barrel hasn’t gotten this kind of attention since they were racist homophobes back in the day.

Had I but known how triggering this would be for the right-wing snowflakes, I would have pushed for a logo redesign for Cracker Barrel decades ago.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. There’s a lot of mess I need to clean up this morning, and I want to read a bit before Paul goes to his trainer. Have a lovely Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back either later or tomorrow, okay?

Ah, those Chippendales calendars in the 80s!

Rocket

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?

Avalon

Many years ago, Anya Seton published a terrific historical novel set in pre-1066 England and titled Avalon. The title was a throwback to the female lead character’s bloodline; she was descended from King Arthur and thus part of the English royal family. I loved Anya Seton (Green Darkness remains one of my favorite books to this day)–it’s been a while since I’ve revisited her work, but maybe I should…her books are soooo long, though! Anyway, Avalon is an island from the Arthur mythology…I suppose this is where I admit I’ve never read anything about King Arthur other than the Mary Stewart novels, but I enjoyed those so much I never really felt much of a need to read anything else Arthurian1. For those of you who missed the 1980s, Roxy Music recorded an album titled Avalon, and the title song was gorgeous…as is the entire album, which I’ve been listening to lately. It still, for the record, holds up.

The tropical system turned out to be not much of anything here in New Orleans, but it was rough where it did rain and flood. Yesterday–which was supposed to be the worst of it–was gorgeous for most of the day. After work, we did go to Costco and then I had dinner with a good friend at Saba, which was lovely. My Lyft drivers in both directions were pretty great, too–which was very lovely. The meal was terrific, and I allowed myself a single cocktail–A Dionysus Revival, which was an interesting mix of tequila, cucumber, and mild ancho chili; it was delicious. I also did chores yesterday around working, and the kitchen–which still needs some work–looks so much better this morning than it did yesterday morning, and that makes me very happy this morning. NO DISHES!

I hope to have a good day today, I have some errands to run around noon (mail, make a little groceries), but other than that I am home for the day. We’ll probably watch some more of America’s Sweethearts later, too. I’m not entirely sure why this show fascinates us both so much–there’s definitely a camp quality to it–but it just sucks us in every time we start watching. We, of course, are old school–we used to watch this on TNN when it was called Making the Team, and you can tell Netflix spends more money on the show than TNN ever did. My coffee is tasting marvelous this morning, Sparky let me sleep a little later than usual, and I feel very good this morning. My sinuses are behaving and I don’t have the headache that’s plagued me for the last couple of weeks. I’m also going to spend some time with the new Megan Abbott and my other current reads. Tomorrow we are going to go see Superman, which I am absolutely looking forward to seeing. Reader, there will be a newsletter about my almost life-long love of the character.

I am also hoping to get some writing done today as well. It’s about time for me to get back in the saddle again–and every day that passes when I don’t climb up on that horse again is time slipping through my fingers. It’s creeping up on football season, too–which is going to make it harder to be productive on the weekends, like it always does. I need to clean off my desk and do the floors here in the kitchen, which will be my housework for the day; and I’ll pick up in the living room later on.

Such an exciting life I lead, right?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow morning.

  1. I did watch Camelot–we saw it in the theater when I was really young. I tried rewatching it during the pandemic, but couldn’t get through it. I’ll never understand why they didn’t cast Julie Andrews as Guinevere, since she’d played it on stage. ↩︎