writing – Page 6 – Queer and Loathing in America

Where’s the Party

Tuesday morning and how is everyone and everything? I’m okay, thanks for asking. I picked up the car yesterday—it was less than they quoted me—and yes, the a/c now is back to Frigidaire settings. I got in the car yesterday, started it (they had left the a/c on turned up all the way) and by the time I was backing out o my parking place, I had to turn it down. I turned it down twice more before I got home. It’s going to need more work, but not immediately and this repair work can be planned for, rather than dropping into my lap like a meteorite from space. I feel a bit run down this morning–I think subconscious anxiety worked on me all day, because I was very tired before I went to bed last night and I feel some of that still this morning.

We started watching Furious, a new show about an FBI agent (Emmy Rossum) who gets pulled into a case by her former police detective partner, and she is the one who puts two cases together and realizes the same person committed both crimes; we also see the killer’s perspective. I’ve always been a fan of Ms. Rossum, who has a startling range–I said to Paul, watching last night, “SO weird that she’s the girl from Phantom of the Opera.” It’s quite good, at least so far, so we’ll be continuing with it, while we wait for our next episodes to drop. We also finished House of the Dragon last night, and (spoiler) it was lovely to see Ormund Hightower get his deserved end (as much as I love James Norton). I was pretty much too tired to so much of anything last night, but I think another good night’s sleep will make me right as rain.

Tonight I hope to get back to work on writing; as I have repeatedly said, my brain wasn’t in a place for me to do much of anything other than organize computer files while I watched television. Paul and Sparky were also sleepy and tired (when isn’t Sparky, though?), so we all just kind of hung out in the living room while we watched last night. I am also realizing that it wasn’t a normal weekend for me in the first place, since I had no car, which was kind of disorienting. It’s interesting how a disruption to my routine can be; with all the hullabaloo around the car lately and yesterday, I forgot that it was injection day, which also could have had something to do with that weird off-feeling yesterday. This morning I took care of it, and I am already feeling better. Is it a placebo effect? Possibly, but I always feel better after an injection. We’ll see how I sleep tonight and how I feel tomorrow morning. (I did only hit snooze once this morning, but that was also because I remembered that I needed to do my injection before I left for the office this morning.) Or is the coffee hitting? One can never really be sure, can one?

But we’re slow in the clinic today and tomorrow, so I will have lots of time to get caught up on my work today. I am going to go ahead and accept the fact that yesterday was not in my control and that’s why I was off-balance, tired, and so completely unproductive. Hopefully I’ll have the energy tonight to get some cleaning and writing done, before watching television and going to bed. (Sparky will need some lap time, undoubtedly, though.)

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Ruby Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I will be back tomorrow on what is once again Pay the Bills Wednesday. Till then!

*New Orleans is one of the most beautiful cities in North America, even in the mist and rain.*

True Blue

Monday morning after a car-free (yes, not a typo) weekend, and I have to take a Lyft to work this morning. Not a big deal, really; just a matter of timing. I left my work badge in the car when I dropped it off–it never occurred to me to take it, because I didn’t think they’d keep the car all weekend, either. Not a big deal. The big deal will be trying to figure out when I can go pick the car up once it’s finished as I have clients scattered throughout the day, and picking the car up will require another ride. Sigh. But at least I’ll have the car back and I can make some groceries on the eay

I also sent out a new newsletter yesterday, which you can read here. It’s about The Vampire Lestat, which we finished and thoroughly enjoyed, and really, Sam Reid is everything. It felt good to get that sent out, and I also was able to work on the book some yesterday, too. I also read some more of the book I am reading, which I am enjoying and savoring, and probably reading too slow because the language and voice are so hypnotic. I also upgraded the operating systems of both my laptop and desktop; who knew these upgades would, for once, actually be convenient? I was never able to access the back-up hard drive from the laptop, but now I can! Which means I can work on cleaning up my files while in my easy chair and watching television, whenever my mind doesn’t want to work too hard, I can do that. Needless to say, this is epic. (It may not even be that big of a deal, and I may have just not known how to do it before, but now it’s super-easy.)

We lost Frank Perez over the weekend, which is a real loss for the New Orleans queer community. Frank was dedicated to the history of queer New Orleans, and a big part of the scene here. I’ve read several of his histories and loved them all. He was also the driving force behind the LBGTQ+ historical archive in the Quarter, and his walking tours were also popular. We’ll miss you, Frank. I hate that we keep losing literary legends in this town…buy his books, please.

So, last night we started watching The Shards. I remember when the book came out, and it just seemed too meta…the author of Less Than Zero writes another book in the same setting, only this time it’s got the author writing a book about his friends while they are dealing with a serial killer situation. It’s a Ryan Murphy show (of course–stay away from Connor Storrie, Murphy!) so it’s glitzy and gorgeous, and there’s even nepo stunt casting (Cindy Crawford’s daughter! Richard Gere’s son! Cindy and Richard used to be married! Meta meta meta). The soundtrack was killer, of course, and hilariously, the standout set from the film Less Than Zero–the wall of televisions–appears in episode 2. It’s interesting enough, the acting is so-so, but we’ll keep watching, primarily because the main character is either bi or gay, but the men part is very deeply closeted. There’s also some poignance with that, too, but I can never get past how much the actor in the lead looks like Topher Grace, so I keep thinking Eric Forman with money.

I may order the book. I don’t know. I hated Less Than Zero, but loved The Rules of Attraction, and those are the only Ellis novels I’ve read. I can only take so much of the boredom and excesses of rich kids–I knew too many rich, spoiled brats in college who loved nothing so much as leaving behind messes for other people to clean up. (I suppose Ellis has been compared/contrasted to Fitzgerald?)

I did see some posts over the weekend talking about “straight actors who played gay early in their careers”, and they mentioned Dermot Mulroney…who I’d forgotten was in it; he was one of the first in the movie to die from the strange new disease. As heartbreaking as that movie is, it’s my favorite movie about the HIV/AIDS crisis. I started thinking about it more, and remembered how much better it was than Philadelphia (which I hated)…and thought, maybe I should rewatch them both and see if I still feel the same way about both? Needless to say, you can’t stream Longtime Companion anywhere, even to rent, but of course Philadelphia is available. Grrr.¹

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Enjoy your Monday, and I hope it’s not as wacky and turned around as mine is turning out to be!

Has anyone done a definitive critical analysis of HIV/AIDS books and movies? I’d love to read that. ↩︎

Love Makes the World Go Round

Sunday already? #madness. I am up early this morning after a good night’s sleep, and I feel pretty good. Yesterday wound up being one of those days where I didn’t do much of anything, and I am not one bit sorry about it, so there, LOL. I am not going to allow myself that luxury today, of course, and at least I should be able to get some reading and cleaning done. Or not. I had the television on, but don’t really remember a whole lot of yesterday and that’s also really fine. My time is my own, although I have some things starting to percolate. Another shared anthology is in the works (with Art Taylor and Donna Andrews for Jeffrey Marks’ Crippen & Landru Press), I have a short essay due by the end of the month, and of course, there’s always the book, the newsletter, and some short stories I want to write for upcoming submissions calls. I am trying to get back into the riding saddle again, but I have to be better about my time management, too. That’s the problem with a lot of free time; you can also wind up wasting time because you think you have plenty of it.

And you never do.

It was a bit gloomy when I got up this morning, but the sky has seemingly cleared. We may get some rain this afternoon, which would be nice and cooling. The temperatures have dropped to the low nineties/high eighties, which is more normal for summer in New Orleans, but I have no doubt we’ll get more blast-furnace heat by the end of the month; Labor Day weekend is always insanely hot and humid (which always made Southern Decadence more fun). But the summer is nearing its end (we won’t have cooler weather until October, but the humidity lessens some after Labor Day. A quick perusal of the weather channel and there is a disturbance out in the Atlantic, but no concerns for the moment. With my luck, it’ll probably come here and I’ll have to evacuate for my birthday. (It was my birthday the weekend before Katrina.) No sense borrowing trouble, as my mother used to say–which was funny, given she had generalized anxiety disorder and thus worried about everything,

Everything she could control, at any rate.

It’s kind of nice having my own dialed back to something manageable, seriously.

I am feeling both lazy and productive at the same time this morning. I need to eat something and get some more coffee, for one thing. I’ve got my journal right here with me, and I keep pausing to take notes. I also have The Last House on Needless Street here with me that I can dip into every once in a while, along with my reread of Celebrity. I have two newsletters I can get finished and out soon, and there are also a couple of others I am still working on. There’s always something for me to write, isn’t there? But one thing I definitely want to do this morning is organize the submission calls that I want to try to write something for as well–organizing is something I always enjoy, and it helps when you can look at everything in one single solitary place. I have finally accepted that my once sharp memory is now a thing of the past, and frequently am amazed at what I have forgotten.

I was thinking about this while reading another chapter of Needless Street, and about how wrong so many of my memories of Alabama have so often proven to be…this bothered me quite a bit, since I’ve visited the home county more times in the last four years than I have in the last forty. It bugged me mostly because I have written fiction set there in a fictionalized version based on memory, and if the memories are incorrect…(the reason is it–the book– reminds me of something similar I have been working on for the last decade or so; my own creepy house down the street in a small town and horrors from the past. This morning, the anvil dropped on my head. Fictional version are the keywords here; it’s based on, not an actual representation of the county. I swear to God, I wish I weren’t so literal and stubborn and oblivious, you know? Sometimes I wonder if I’d have been better off were I not that way; look at the difference dialing back the anxiety has made. Things to think about and consider, at any rate.

So Miss North Carolina was dethroned this week, so naturally the bitch tried to make it about religious persecution, so she could go the Riley Gaines route in conservative media…and then the pageant released the racist posts where she freely threw around the n word. Sit your racist ass down, skank, and have a folding chair. The “asshole whiner to conservative darling” grift is an entire thing, and always so sadly predictable. Your faith made you a racist piece of shit, did it? Have fun explaining that to your God before he sends you to hell, bitch. And how awesome is it that the title now passes on to a Black woman? Chef’s kiss, no notes–although to be honest, I wasn’t aware that beauty pageants, er scholarship contests, were still a thing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Sunday, y’all. I’ll be back in the morning.

*I cannot believe I’ve never written a Scotty with a chase scene across balconies in the Quarter.*

Borderline

Friday morning and here we go.

You will be pleased to know that I am yet again certified for CPR, for the thirty-first time or so. This is more of an intense version–the clinic thing–and some things have changed, so I am glad I had to do it again this year. I’ve never had to use it–we have an emergency response team that responds to a code call–and some of the people in my department are on that team (I’ve seen them save multiple lives over the years) but it’s nice to know I can help if necessary.

I am about to get a second cup of coffee and start getting ready to take the car to the body shop. I’ll just grab a Lyft home. I have an on-line meeting at nine, and plenty of work to keep my busy this work at home Friday. It’s also supposed to rain this afternoon, and it’s under eighty degrees this morning–under eighty in New Orleans in August? Madness. I wasn’t tired after work yesterday, but didn’t do a whole lot when I got home other than pick up some things and catch up on the news. (Always a pleasure to do…) We did watch the season finale of The Vampire Lestat, which was different from the ending of the book but definitely ended on a cliff-hanger, which was an interesting choice. I also slept really well again, which was lovely. I am hoping for a good weekend again, but don’t really have any plans for the weekend other than reading, writing, some errands, and cleaning. I did finish reading Love in the Afternoon and Evening (more on that later), and hope to make some progress on The Last House on Needless Street as well.

Okay, the car has been dropped off at the body shop I use on the Earhart¹, and I was sweating in buckets by the time the Lyft came–which was deliciously cold when I climbed into the back seat. Ah, this is what it’s supposed to feel like inside a car in the summer. The way New Orleanians forget every year how hot it gets in the summer needs to be studied–along with the comment “I don’t remember it getting this hot before” which is part of that protective amnesia I suppose. I said that on social media to a friend–who’d had dinner with someone earlier in the week who’d said the same thing. We do tend to talk about the weather here a lot, even if it’s just “whew, shore is hot this mornin’/afternoon/evenin’.” (Which is why Elmore Leonard’s writing advice to never start with the weather doesn’t work here. It affects everything.)

But “how to write” manuals are merely authors (or professors) telling others who are interested in writing and getting better. Nothing is tried or true in writing; one of the reason I turn off the spell/grammar check in word is because sometimes I want to use a sentence that may not be grammatically correct–and don’t even get me started on what that shit does to a stream-of-consciousness run-on sentence inside a character’s head. We don’t think in grammatically correct sentences and paragraphs; we also don’t speak that way. I certainly don’t, but that’s also me extrapolating my experience to everyone’s experience, which is a fallacy–yet something everyone does. A few years ago I read something and knit my brows together, thinking no gay would ever–and had to stop and remind myself that actually, some probably would. Our community, after all, is no freer from quislings than any other marginalized group. Sad, but a fact. That’s the mote in our collective eyes; the default that our own experience is the default and everyone thinks like we do….like how racists assume every other white person is also a bigot. (I’ve shocked a few, which is fun.)

And on that note, I am going to make some breakfast and get ready for my meeting. Have a lovely and great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.

*The Rhode Island mansion that was a stand-in for Collinwood on* Dark Shadows.

I also asked for estimates for the damage acquired from other New Orleans drivers while parked. Thanks again, trash! ↩︎

Burning Up

Thursday morning and the last day in the office for me this week. But I slept amazingly well last night, and feel rested and refreshed this morning. Today is going to be hectic–I have back to back clients all morning, and then this afternoon I have to renew my CPR license, which will take the rest of the day. Heavy heaving sigh. I do think, though, that I can come straight home tonight and chill. That would be lovely, and I can get caught up on chores that I won’t have to do over the weekend. We can also finish The Vampire Lestat, which we are both loving, and some other new shows/seasons have dropped as well that I need to explore. I also want to finish reading my books this weekend. I read some more of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, which I am really enjoying (thanks again, Kristopher, for the recommendation), and also want to get more into the new fiction read as well as the reread.

Yesterday was a bit rough. I didn’t sleep well Tuesday night (I may have forgotten to take my night time pills), and so was either over-caffeinated or tired most of the day at work. It was just busy enough to keep me on my toes, but not so busy I was miserable. Oddly enough, I did catch a second wind later in the afternoon–which was a relief, as I had a dinner date–and came home and changed before heading uptown to Le Petit Grocery for dinner, which was superb. (I even allowed myself a dirty martini, but just one.) The company was even more superb, as it always is–I really do have the most amazing friends. I actually didn’t feel tired at dinner, and yes, of course I got tired when I got home, but…I slept amazing last night and feel fantastic this morning.\

Yesterday was a bit on the insane side, at least in the world of social media and author organizations. I only currently belong to ITW (no membership fee) and Sisters in Crime. (Sisters always has and always will have a special place in my heart because they’ve all been so great and supportive of me, personally and professionally.) I’ve not belonged to HWA in a long time, but not out of any sense of oh they are so awful or anything like that; I chaired World Horror Con for them here in New Orleans in whatever year that was (I want to say 2014, but it may have been 2015; who can keep track anymore?), which I actually enjoyed doing, working mostly with Rocky Wood and Lisa Morton–and I became very fond of them both. When I saw the first rumbles about a controversy involving their newsletter yesterday on-line, my first thought was literally Thank God I am not on any boards anymore and the second was oh no poor Lisa (before remembering she isn’t president anymore) and finally to I am SO glad I am not on any writer’s organization boards anymore. As for the op-ed, I know the person who wrote it, and of course, someone sent me a link so I could read it. It was…badly written and poorly argued. I saw her claim that the piece was theoretically about bullying, to which my response was clearly, straight white lady, you’ve never been bullied. No, dear, your piece was about bullying authors for using generative-AI–you know, the thing that stole my work for training purposes? No, bitch, I am never using any generative-AI in any way with my work because it is my work and they STOLE from me and almost every published author in this country. As for those writers who do use generative A.I.? I won’t bully you but I also will not read you. I lost interest in the controversy when it became apparent a lot of people were jumping on the bandwagon to slam HWA, which I wasn’t interested in. I don’t publicly bash writers’ orgs because I have sat on their boards before and I know all the concomitant difficulties–as well as battles–that happen behind the scenes. Whether I agree with the decisions they make is a different story, but I try not to critique because I also know I don’t have the whole story. HWA reacted to the backlash very quickly, removed the person from their board, and issued an apology. The bashing still went on, and yes, it can be frustrating when you’re on the outside, but I at least don’t need to know anything more, and I am not a member of HWA. I prefer to believe that everyone behind the scenes is doing the best they can at crisis management, and to give the benefit of the doubt.

But, for future reference, straight white people? Don’t use the word “gatekeepers” so blithely and freely. It’s a term for the exclusion of non-straight not-white people, and the predictable process those of us they chose to publish wind up going through–and it’s incredibly offensive to be accused of that simply because I don’t want to use, or read anything by, generative-AI. Fuck you for that cultural appropriation now and forever, even if it was unintentional, it was still incredibly offensive. Use your generative-AI if you want. But you don’t get to tell me how I can or should feel about it, unless you’re paying the rent. If not, shut the fuck up and take a folding chair.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Hope you have a lovely day, Constant Reader; I’ll be back tomorrow after I drop the car off.

Holiday

Here it is Tuesday morning, and yesterday wasn’t terrible, frankly; it definitely could have been worse. I felt a little spacy in the morning, and got a little bit tired in the afternoon, but nothing terrible. The day at work was productive and quiet. I slept well Sunday night, and was reluctant to get up yesterday morning. But neither Sparky nor my alarm would be denied, so I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of ambition. LOL, as if. More like fumbled down the stairs and turned on the Keurig to make a cup of coffee while Sparky spoke vehemently to me because I wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking–nothing new, when he wants something he wants it NOW. I slept well last night, and yet again didn’t want to get up again this morning, but I survived and got up. I ran a lot of errands on the way home last night–mail, pharmacy, made groceries–and was worn out, hot, and crabby by the time I got home. I did do the dishes and ran the dishwasher overnight, too. I’m trying to keep up better this week, so this weekend I’m not facing another mess–since I have car stuff to deal with this weekend, which means getting up early both Friday and Saturday. Yay! But at least next weekend is my birthday (already) and a lovely four day weekend, with Labor Day weekend not that far behind, either.

We watched House of the Dragon last night, with only one more episode left to go in this season as the show rushes to its final denouement. I”m enjoying the show a lot more, especially since I am realizing almost everyone in the cast will be dead by the series finale–and since so many of them are so completely unlikable, that will be fun. At this point, no one deserves to sit on the Iron Throne, frankly. This, to me, is more like the Wars of the Roses, which was theoretically the basis for Game of Thrones; when that conflict ended there were hardly any Plantagenets left alive as the family pruned the branches of its family tree. (I read in a history once that “the primary English crisis of the fifteenth century was Plantagenet fertility, while the sixteenth’s was , ironically, Tudor sterility.”) The entire thing is Viserys’ fault for not making Daemon his heir when he had no sons; no one would have argued with him then picking his own son over Daemon, as inheritance was to be expected to pass that way, in male primogeniture. Ah, folly in reality makes for great drama in fantasy.

I’m surprised dystopian fiction isn’t rising in popularity, actually.

I did work on the book a bit last night, which was absolutely lovely. Chapter Four is drawing closer and closer to its (first draft) finish, and I couldn’t be more pleased. Given all the life irritations and aggravations I’ve been dealing with lately, I am pleased to be back in the writing saddle again. I do enjoy creating, and even when it’s a struggle (which it is sometimes), there’s always a sense of, I don’t know, rightness whenever I’ve finished writing for the day. I was, to be honest, more than a little concerned that getting my anxiety disorder under control might take the drive to write away from me, and I have fallen off the old production schedule that I used to have, but it’s nice to rediscover my joy and to know the medication taking the edge off isn’t affecting my writing, now that I am in a place where I am writing again. I also have noticed the insecurity/Imposter Syndrome has also dried up almost completely (it still rears its ugly head every now and then), which is absolutely a godsend.

Alas, I’ve not cracked any of the three books I am currently reading since the weekend. Paul is coming by the office at the end of the workday so I can take him to get his new glasses at Costco. We’ll be heading against traffic–it’s a very easy drive to Costco from my office, thanks to I-10–so it won’t be too terrible. I am also choosing to see this weekend’s car stuff as a positive. I’ll have a/c again when it’s all over and done with, and I can read while I am waiting for the car when I’m at the dealership (not waiting at the body shop for it), and I will already be on the West Bank, so maybe I can run by Sam’s while I’m there and stop at Sonic for lunch. I can also get a lot done while I’m home waiting for the body shop to finish working on the car. So, over all, a positive, and I can sleep in on Sunday morning if need be.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and may you have plenty of tacos! See you tomorrow morning!

*Are we really supposed to believe he has a beard and NO body hair? LOL.*

Physical Attraction

Sunday morning and Sparky let me sleep later this morning than he did yesterday, but I think I might have been better off going back to bed yesterday morning instead of staying up. I felt worn out and exhausted all day, with little to no motivation to do much of anything. I didn’t write any fiction yesterday, but I did get my latest newsletter, about the Rick Brant science mysteries and loving Egypt, out, so that’s an accomplishment, right? I also read some–read several chapters of Love in the Afternoon and Evening, and a couple of chapters of The Last House on Needless Street, which is a pleasure to read–and watched some news and some World War II short documentaries on Youtube (I got sucked into one on Midway, and then I was down the wormhole: Stalingrad, Battle of the Bulge, Normandy, and so forth). I needed a down day, methinks, because I feel really good this morning. Listen to your body, Gregalicious, which you most definitely did NOT do yesterday morning. I also didn’t do much organizing or cleaning or anything, either. Like I said, I was just low energy most of the day.

Which I guess I needed to be.

We also started The Vampire Lestat, and my God, is it wonderful. I already enjoyed Sam Reid as Lestat from Louis’ point of view in Interview with the Vampire, but my God, does he ever embody Anne Rice’s Brat Prince to perfection in this. Visually and stylistically it’s impressive and over the top and everything Mrs. Rice could have ever wanted for her characters. The story is compelling, driven so strongly by Sam Reid’s Lestat that I didn’t have the same reaction I initially did when reading the books–switching to Lestat’s point of view was jarring; my mentality was “the entire first book was about how much of an asshole he is, and now you’re making him the hero of the series?” But I kept reading the series–I never read any of the new books after she returned to the characters after a few years of a break, and maybe someday I will, like when I have a lengthy vacation where I can just read–like Acapulco. But we’re loving this season, and I am delighted that next season will be The Queen of the Damned, which was what turned her into an international best seller. I joined the series when there were just the three, and I read them all on a trip to Honolulu before the fourth came out–which was one of my favorites of the series. (I have to say, though, that my favorite Rice novel, The Witching Hour, was extremely disappointing as a series.)

We were going to go see Spider-Man today, but when I checked the theaters, there weren’t many seats left, and I told Paul last night that I didn’t think I’d be up to being around a lot of strangers today–the lobby will be packed as well as the cinema itself–and we decided to wait until next weekend, or my birthday, which is two weeks from Thursday, I think, when I turn sixty-five. That was quite the run-on sentence, wasn’t it? We are going to have to go out today–theory is that it’s supposed to be cooler today after the rain passes, and it looks like it has…at least for now, anyway. I think I may even go read for a bit once I post this, and should read until the rain is completely past, which, per the local news, will be around noon–there was just now a bit of thunder in the distance, so that’s probably on its way here now. I honestly don’t know what kind of day I am going to have, so I am not going to hope for any outcomes and see how the cards fall for the day. (We need to go pick up Paul’s new glasses at Costco, which is really where I should get my new ones…hmmm.)

And on that note, I am going to get something to eat and will head into the living room for a bit to do some reading. So, have a great day, my friends, and I’ll be back in the morning.

How old is this picture? I wouldn’t have thought anything about it until I noticed his computer looks like an iMac from around the turn of the century. Maybe he is into antiques?

Love Without Words

Saturday, August 1, and coniglio! Coniglio!

Let’s see if that works; it did for Trixie Belden in The Mystery of the Emeralds.

It’s Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. Sparky got me up before seven this morning–His Majesty was HUNGRY–and I decided to get up and feed him. Once I was out of the bed, I decided to get cleaned up and get going on my day. Yesterday sucked–I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say the a/c in my car still isn’t working and I need to take it to another place first because some “body work” needs to be done, and it really doesn’t sound cheap–but I am shaking it off today. I’ve never had to spend much money on this car since buying it and it’s been about ten years. So, let it go, I can’t do anything about it until Monday, anyway, and why let that spoil my weekend when I have free time, I still feel good, and tomorrow we’re going to go see the new Spider-Man movie. So, lots to look forward to, and today I am going to try to get some stuff done around here. I need to order groceries for delivery (too hot to drive there and back), and I need to get the house back under control again. It’s not that bad, but the last couple of days I’ve let things slide a bit. I did read some of my book yesterday, and it’s really fantastic. We caught this week’s Sugar, and I think tonight we’ll dive into The Vampire Lestat.

I also have those Emily Wilson translations to dip into, as well. And a newsletter to get out, but them not going out consistently has been an issue from the first, and I do suspect the only person I am actually disappointing with any of this is me, you know? But they are fun to write, and while I do forget things I wanted to say in them from time to time, and I don’t proof them as thoroughly as I should before they go out, but I am also not going to get anxious or stressed about them. Paul is going to work with his trainer today and then is going to ride the bike at the gym, so I should have the entire afternoon to myself for downtime, reading and writing and more cleaning. Why is there always more cleaning to do? Heavy heaving sigh. I did decide to treat myself to a long birthday weekend this month, so I have my birthday and the Friday after to accept that I am officially elderly. It doesn’t bother me (much); it’s more shocking to me that I made it this far, with so much stacked against me. Making it to 65 as a gay man in this country was no small accomplishment, but honestly? Pure damn luck. I made it through the HIV pandemic without getting infected–miracle of miracles, especially when it seemed so damned unlikely any of us would make it through with anything other than PTSD and guilt. (The guilt has always been tough for me to deal with–why me? Why did so many wonderful and talented and brilliant people die? And yes, I’ve been thinking about this since the circus the other day with Dr. Fauci, whose true crime to conservatives is that he helped stop gay men from dying.)

Maybe I do see homophobia everywhere, but you know what? That’s what it almost always is–enough times that it’s not a surprise when that does turn out to be the case.

It also pleases me to no end to see Tom Holland and Zendaya starring in the two biggest movies of the summer. I’ve always liked her, and of course, his lip-sync to Rihanna made me a life long fan of our short king. He is also one of the rare examples of a child star who grew up into a successful and always working adult actor/star.

I was also amused to see the Department of Justice and that pig Jeannine Pirro had to drop charges against “reflecting pool vandals” when it turned out to be a result of shoddy installation on a (surprise!) a no-bid contract for one of the Harkonnens’ friends? Everything the Baron said about the reflecting pool was a lie (as everyone with a brain and one working eye could see), and his minions jumped in line–against all reason, against all sanity, and above all else, against the Constitution–to snap to his insane logic and mentality and excuses. His supporters should never be allowed in public again without being shamed for the bootlicking quislings they are. (I laugh every time they call him “Daddy”–showing they are all fucking betas and will roll over, ass end up in the air ready for his penetration) Karoline Leavitt and Jeannine Pirro will go on to jobs at Fox, next to Sophie “Maga Skipper” (Barbie would never) Cunningham.

And when this is finally all over? Watch the centrist Dems try to close the book and “move on.” We saw this after the Bush Crime Syndicate left office in 2009, and way back when the Republicans sold out southern Blacks for political power. (They haven’t changed from what they became under Grant.)

What this country has allowed itself to become makes me appreciate that I am old, and I do not ever wish I were younger. Ever. And I wouldn’t go back in time even if I could.

And on that note, I am going to get some more coffee and take my book over to my easy chair. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

I’ve always loved stained glass. I played with it as a hobby in my twenties, but could never ever dream of doing something so artistic.

Bizarre

And here we are on another work-at-home Friday, and I am up early because I am heading to the car dealership on the West Bank, hopefully to get an oil change, tire rotation, and some freon added to the climate control so it will blow cold air again. I’ve never had any added since I bought the car, and it’s been nearly ten years since that day. Hard to believe so much time has passed, and I do not miss the monthly car payment in the fucking least, but here’s hoping this car will last me until I am in the ground because I never want to have to deal with buying a car again so long as I should live. Please God, make it so. But I do love my car, because it’s mine. No one else has owned it, and hopefully no one else ever will. (Barring a windfall, of course, but I will never buy a car on payments again, if I can help it.)

The plumber did come and installed a new sink for us, which is very cool. I wasn’t expecting a new sink! I had thought I wasn’t going to run errands last night, but a package was delivered for me and my copies of Emily Wilson’s translations of The Iliad and The Odyssey also came in and needed retrieving. I was anxious to get home, though, and see the new sink as well as wash what dishes remained. It really is sad that I got so excited over a new sink, isn’t it? My kitchen sink has been the bane of my existence since we moved into this apartment; no good water pressure which meant the sprayer didn’t work, and the faucet itself has been loose. I think it’s the same sink we had when we moved in here back in that summer of 2005? Anyway, it’s marvelous! The sprayer hose works! I did the dishes last night, and it was so much easier than it used to be…fingers crossed the car will be just as easily handled. I”m going to take my book with me to read so hopefully I won’t be on my phone the entire time, which is completely unnecessary and a habit I need to break. I don’t like this phone habit, and am really good about not being on my phone all night after work, or on the weekends. I do not need to be instantly available for anyone or anything.

I do feel a bit tired this morning, but that’s to be expected on a Friday anyway. We finished watching Ride or Die last night, and we loved it. The finale set up a second season perfectly, and I hope it does get renewed. I liked that, for once, the show focused on the friendship between the two women, which was loving and caring and supportive. The plot was fun, if it a little thin–but the action kept the story barreling along, and the chemistry between Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer is off the charts. Highly recommend it! I think this weekend we are going to move on to The Vampire Lestat, and we have an episode of Sugar to catch up on, too. And we’ll probably watch The Devil Wears Prada 2.

So, they sent me home in an Uber so I wouldn’t have to wait there, which tells me it’s going to be a minute before the car is done and the a/c is going to cost me at least $199 (erased if I have the repair work done), so I know it will be that. much in the least. But yes, I am not gaslighting myself, either; getting into the Uber, the driver had the a/c on low and I was comfortable in the backseat, and I wasn’t when I drove over there. Here’s hoping for just freon and a new filter. Hopefully it won’t take most of the day; they are going to send me an Uber when the car is finished, and I have an errand to run on the way home…and I can get some things done this morning/early afternoon while I am waiting, including my day job responsibilities. I also feel pretty good this morning, too, if hungry. I was tired when I first got up, but I’m feeling a lot better now. I started reading The Last House on Needless Street (I was there for half an hour when they decided to treat me to a ride home) and I am loving it so far; it’s very dreamy (fever dream, but still a dream) and hypnotic, and it’s very plain from the opening sentence that the narrator will be unreliable. There’s a sense of We Have Always Lived in the Castle to it, and it’s making me think of small towns in the South (as so many things often do) and a novella I need to revisit and revise; the endless list of unfinished projects in my files is truly horrifying. After work today I am going to work on my book some and maybe some short stories, and an excellent project for me to do today is look at the submission calls I have on hand that I may have something for and decide what to work on alongside the book.

And on that note, methinks I shall head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday/August Eve, Constant Reader, and I will be back here tomorrow morning, bright and early.

Fragile

Wednesday and somehow, it’s Pay the Bills Wednesday again. Go figure, right? Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, into the future…. Time keeps on slipping, slipping, into the future….

I’ve been spacy this week and I am not really sure what that’s about, honestly. I don’t mind–I’m being productive and getting things done, but I think I’m still not used to all this free time that I have now. I’m used to worrying about things I have to do when I’m taking down time, and I’m also so used to having so much to do all the time that I can’t comprehend having actual down time without anxiety. I’m still wrapping my mind around this. Trust me, I don’t miss being that busy or that Type A in the least. So the week is going well. I haven’t been doing much reading this week, either, but after I get home tonight–depending on how miserable the drive home in the heat–I want to do some reading. This a/c in the car not working thing is very unpleasant (fortunately I am not in the car that long), so I will have to bring the car in this Friday. It’s fine, I haven’t been over to the West Bank in a while, and I should see what else I should do while I am over there. I have to make groceries on the way home, and of course, not having a/c in the car is going to make the trip even more marvelous. Heavy heaving sigh.

Yesterday was a good day, even if I was tired. The plumber is coming to look at the sink tomorrow morning, so I need to empty the dishwasher tonight and do something about the dishes in the sink, which are too dirty to load into the dishwasher, but I can at least hide them in there to get them out of the sink and out of their way. Yesterday was a nice, busy day at the office, and I stayed caught up on everything. Our site visit is today, too. Two more days of July, so I also have end of the month duties to look forward to tomorrow and Monday. Yay! I know this sounds like I’m spoiled, but not having cold air in the car during a excessive heat warning is the pits. By the time I got home yesterday I was drained; the heat just sucks your soul right out of you. I fed Sparky and gave him some attention (he loves to sit on my shoulders and head butt me) before collapsing into my easy chair to cool down from the hideous heat outside. Paul was home, so we watched some Jeopardy before diving back into Ride or Die, which we are loving. Hannah Waddingham and Octavia Spencer need to be in everything. I went to bed at a relatively decent time and slept like a stone. I’m debating running errands on the way home tonight in the heat; there are a couple of things I need, so maybe I should just swing by and make some groceries on the way home but not drive uptown for the mail until after I get the car serviced Friday morning. It does seem smarter. At least then I will know if there’s anything wrong with the a/c compressor.

Sigh.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mins. Have a lovely Wednesday, and I will see you tomorrow on my last day in the office for the week day blog.

Tag: writing

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