every weekend I think I should make plans when every weekend I re-discover that my favorite thing to do on weekends is the same things I always do but slower

Cleaning and Organizing in the Midst of Global and Historical Chaos

I spent most of my Monday holiday doing nothing. I listened to an audiobook and dallied on my phone. Then I napped and had a weird lupper-ish "girl dinner" type meal.

After that I finally had some motivation to clean my bedroom and get the stand alone closet to its permanent place. I know from the final photo (picture 1) it just looks like the same place (picture 3; the "before" photo) but it actually moved around the room to three spots 🙄🤷‍♀️

It's now been 13.5 months since I moved upstairs and I'm still not fully set up. 🤦‍♀️ I'll get there eventually.

My living room (photo 5) is all finished and has been for a while. I received the compliment that it looked like it would be the living room of a fortune teller in a Wes Anderson movie. High praise!

Picture 3 is the "during" photo with heaps of things that were in my mom's closet downstairs that made its way up to my apartment instead. (Last weekend I helped my mom clean her bedroom. This weekend I took care of mine.)

Not pictured: my sorrow and fear. Because the whole time I cleaned, I listened to news and podcasts to get caught up on the current events from Israel/Gaza. I also thought about how today is Indigenous Peoples Day & the constant horrific thread of occupation, domination, war, usurpation, and terror inflicted on people throughout history whether colonizers, Nazis, religious extremists, etc. All part of the kyriarchy.

I think cleaning one's own small corner of the world while thinking about all this is helpful and grounding. This order amongst so much chaos can be a spell, a manifestation of sorts. When things are in order in my home, I can have the energy to fight for what's right outside my home. I can't make much effect on the other side of the globe, but there's plenty to be done locally to work for equity, peace and justice. Having all my literal sh1t together can help me fight for those honorable causes.

hiiii

OK, it’s been a few days but — I had a really good weekend!

Yesterday I got up and out of the house pretty early and went to one of my favourite bakeries to get a loaf of bread and a pastry (I got the apple caramel hand pie - it was good, but I feel like it would have been better warm), then stopped at the grocery store. I also went to a market that is supposed to carry frozen pizzas from one of my favourite restaurants, but they were all sold out. :( Alas.

I booked a virtual pilates class at a local studio that does classes on a sliding scale from $7-20 and I thought it would be good just to get me moving (the $7 really did motivate me to actually do it) and I LOVED it. The instructor was the owner and she was so lovely, so I think I’m going to do a couple more this week and next month might buy the unlimited virtual pass. 

After, I did some big cleaning/organizing projects that I had been putting off - mainly, cleaning the closet in my office and this one corner of my office that I have just been throwing stuff in, my bedroom closet, and under my bed. While cleaning out those spaces all took relatively little time, actually organizing and cleaning up after cleaning took forever. Like 5 hours?

I listened to the audiobook of The Invisible Life of Addie Larue, which I think I’m enjoying a lot? But the audiobook is *so long*. I have been listening for 7 hours and I still have almost 10 left. I feel like maybe I would have enjoyed it more as a book read cause knowing I have *10 hours* left makes it feel exhausting and like I want to skip. I’ll try my best not to.

Then I ordered pizza, did some laundry, and started reading The Pessimists by Bethany Ball, which I finished today and *loved*. 

Today I woke up, made pancakes, and then finished reading before going out to buy really boring things like recycling bags and stovetop cleaner. Went the long way home to get some movement in and then stopped and bought a nail polish at the drugstore along the way as a treat. I got Ballet Slippers by Essie and it’s just way worse than I remember. I thought it was more sheer? Instead it goes on so streaky and almost gummy and I had to do three coats to get it somewhat even. I think I mixed it up with another shade. 

When I got home, I finally started catching up on some of the work I have been super behind on and managed to get 2 out of the 3 things done and done started, which I have vowed to finish tomorrow. After that, finished up my laundry, ate dinner, dyed my roots (I cancelled my hair appointment), and caught up on YouTube. Now it’s time to sleep!

Being alone so much and not doing anything ‘exciting’ is really stifling my creativity around my 1 Second Everyday video for the month, so I gotta start thinking about more interesting shots I could make. A bit of a challenge! Can’t have the first video of the year be a flop. This will be my third year making 1 Second Everyday videos and I really want to keep it up. It’s nice to look back on. 

I finished Single’s Inferno and I think I did not like it, ultimately. A lot of the stuff that angered other people didn’t bother me too much cause it felt like it could be chalked up to cultural differences, but parts of it were just soooo boring and all of the men were soooo bland and even then, the whole show just spanned 9 days? What kind of meaningful dynamic is supposed to come out of knowing someone 9 days? I know it’s due to Korean COVID filming protocols, but IDK, it just didn’t work for me. 

That’s it. Tomorrow’s Monday! Hoping to have a good week. OK BYE.

My Brother’s Keeper: Self-Para

With the work day over Simon stood in his kitchen, whistling while he mixed up two glasses of protein powder and soylent--meal replacement. This was about as much action as his kitchen might ever see. Shame that such sleek modern amenities would go to waste but it Simon never claimed to have much in the way of culinary prowess. A full meal that could be prepared with a scoop of powder and a cup of water was perfect for him.

It wasn’t the open floor plan and impressive kitchen that first attracted him to the property, it was what could be done with that half-finished basement and a few clever design choices. He cut a clear path hall closet at the very back of his house, still whistling. The two meals were secure in the cups held close to his chest while he shouldered the heavy winter coats he never used to the side. His free hand twisted the key into the hidden lock. His secret hidden in the back of a closet he walked through every night. He thought that had to be some sort of irony--at least Alanis Morissette level.

When unlocked  the secret door swung out easily to reveal the dimly lit staircase Simon descended to reach the room. 'The room' was how Simon referred to the full basement even though it was really multiple rooms. A bathroom had been included down below for ease of washing instruments and because Simon didn't want the whole production of emerging from the closet just to urinate. There was an even smaller room that held all his private files, and latched with another lock and key because Simon was meticulous. Neither of the smaller satellite rooms were as important as the main event, the room. Specifically designed to look more like a living room or “man-cave” than than a lab, livable not clinical. Optics were important to Simon even when it was for his eyes only.

"Afternoon Dougie." He spoke over the mellifluous narration coming from the surround sound speakers, the audiobook he left on that day was still going. "Had a good day today?" Simon asked as per usual, though there would be no response. There never was. The room was dark, filled with equally dark wood and dark leather as Simon liked it. He set the drinks down on the hardwood table beside his normal chair and moved to the speaker system to click off sound. Everything in the room was wired smart-house style to a pad Simon now picked up from the back shelves. He checked the closed circuit security cameras for anything out of place, noted how close audiobook was to the end before he queued up another one to start when that one finished. It wouldn't do to have Douglas bored out of his mind during the day.

"So what's it going to be tonight, more late night talk shows? Want to see if we can find the game? Or do you think it's going to be one of those quiet nights we can just listen to music and you let me read some studies?" Another series of questions to which Simon expected no response. He set the smartpad back down and the large flat screen on the opposite wall sparked to life.

"I'm actually thinking Empire, how about it?" He flipped a series of switches, lighting up the dark room. The centerpiece of this whole affair was a large aquarium square in the middle of the living room. He requested the largest possible installation that wouldn't invite pesky questions about illegal exotic pets. In the place of an illicit  lizard or fish, there was a vaguely man-sized thing housed inside. Someone with the knowledge of such things would note that it was exactly man sized, but only if you took said man and removed his bones, fused a bit of gastrointestinal tract, and remodeled the central nervous system to account for the changes. The tank was clean and otherwise bare except for the unsettling lovecraftian slug thing that shrunk away from the lights.

"Now don't be like that. It's only for a couple hours and how else are you supposed to get your daily dose of sunlight. Those lights were expensive and I didn't buy them so you could commiserate in the dark." The chastisement was gently said but honest. The entire room was built with the well-being of his brother in mind, every elaborate detail. Above the massive tank there was a rectangle construction that housed vitamin D lamps, red-bulbed low lights for night time, and even sprinklers to hydrate the blob-thing with a sprayed mist four times a day.

Simon was exhaustive in his construction of the cage. Things rarely escaped his attention. Which meant Simon easily caught sight of the bottle feeder attached to the tank. Still three quarters full when it should have been empty.

"Douglas, what did I tell you about eating. Every time I tell you I'm not gonna let you just starve yourself to death. My opinions haven’t changed." Simon picked up the feeder, walking with it to the bathroom to clean it out properly before pouring in that night's meal. "What kind of brother would I be if I did that? Nah, all you're going to do is make yourself weak. Then it'll be easy for me to sedate you, tie you down, and insert an I.V. You're going to get fed one way or the other and I think we'd both rather you at least get to roam around." He continued to talk, loud enough so  there was the possibility of Douglas hearing him.

The records he could find of his brother's condition were sparse. Aisling went through a tumultuous few years. Everything at the institute fell into disarray when it was attacked. It was bad enough that something like Douglas even got free, never mind comprehensive record keeping. It wasn't entirely clear what power Douglas now possessed. Based on his reactions to the world around him, minimal as they were, ideas like telepathy, hyper-empathy, and precognition were hypothesized. Simon thought the latter was more likely from the way his brother behaved. When Simon reattached the bottle feeder to the side of the tank the dark slug-thing crawled to it without a second's hesitation. Dougie must know the lengths Simon would go to keep him alive. That was some horrible irony, actual irony, complete knowledge of the future and no way to act.

"See, it's not so bad. Better than the sludge you were forced to eat in the underground. No dirt or used needles to deal with, nice, clean, and safe in here." Simon lifted his own cup to his lips with a smile, drinking down the same vitamin slurry. The back of his hand brushed against his lips; Dougie was didn’t have the same capabilities to eat as cleanly. No matter, Simon would have time to spray down the tank Saturday. "Now where were we, Empire right? Can’t even believe the shit Cookie’s getting up to." He kicked back into the chair set adjacent to the tank. The shape of his body already worn into the leather from multiple uses.  For a few hours the two of them would watch a little t.v. and drink their meals. When that was done Simon cleaned up the mess, heading to the door like he normally did, pausing to turn back to look at the leftover sludge of a person that was his brother.

“The New Order’s bound to have a breakthrough one of these days. Then you won’t have to be a secret anymore.” With a smile he turned off the lights and flipped on the low-light red bulbs. “Night Dougie.”

Cozzi Cove: Stepping Out by Joe Cosentino Blitz

Title:  Cozzi Cove: Stepping Out

Series: Cozzi Cove book 3

Author: Joe Cosentino

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: January 23rd

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 62600

Genre: Romance, contemporary, vacation resort, New Jersey, beach/shore, transgender, religion, Bhuddist, bartenders, doctors, college, humorous, weddings, off-page non-con

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Synopsis

It’s time for another summer of sun, sand, suntan lotion, sandals, and Speedos on Cozzi Cove at the New Jersey Shore. Cal Cozzi’s seven bungalows are once again open for love. This summer, sexy Cal welcomes back his brother and sister, who are confronted with people from their pasts. Connor, the maid packed with muscle and mayhem, becomes the subject of a handsome young psychologist’s study on human sexuality. Tommy, the strapping, bald and tattooed local bartender, is captivated with guest Cory Magnum, a police officer with a secret. Another guest, Bill, a disbelieving pastor, is inspired by a vision of two sexy male angels on the cove. And Cal and Michael reach a plateau in their relationship. What secrets, humor, tragedies, mysteries, and passions lie waiting to unfold in this magical place called Cozzi Cove?

Excerpt

Cozzi Cove: Stepping Out Joe Cosentino © 2017 All Rights Reserved A soaring golden orb turned the violet, pink, and tangerine sky into a canvas of blue. Early morning was Cal Cozzi’s favorite time. Treading water in the cove that had boasted his family name for generations, Cal felt as if his blood was the bay water, his flesh was the sand, and his soul was the sun. And Michael Rodgers was his heart. Michael swam over to him and wrapped his stocky arms around Cal’s neck. Cal cupped Michael’s firm bottom and squeezed him in closer. As Michael caressed Cal’s muscled back, they shared a salty wet kiss. Cal looked up at a seagull gliding to the lighthouse in the distance. He pondered having the freedom to fly away from Cozzi Cove, but there was no place he’d rather be than in the confines of his legacy with the man he loved. Cal’s great-grandfather, Calvin Cozzi I, had built everything in the sleepy town on the New Jersey shore, including the eight bungalows on the cove. This beautiful spot was the result of sun and salt water wearing away softer rocks more quickly than the harder rocks surrounding them. Cal’s legacy was passed down to him from his great-grandfather through his grandfather, Calvin Cozzi II, and finally by his father, Calvin Cozzi III. Cal’s father, sensing his son’s sexual orientation as a boy, had opened Cozzi Cove as a gay resort. Though Cal had dabbled briefly as a professional football player, and then as a restaurant owner, neither was a good fit. It wasn’t until after the unfortunate death of his parents in an automobile accident that he found his true calling: managing Cozzi Cove. The previous summer, Cal had been united with his half-brother, George, an architect, and the two of them had recently completed renovations on the bungalows, expanding them to add modern amenities while maintaining their grandfather’s nautical theme. The tip of his head only reached Cal’s chin, so Michael had to stretch up to kiss his nose. Cal’s Italian and Scottish heritage had given him height, auburn hair, emerald-green eyes, an olive complexion, a strapping build, and a wide nose, which, as noted, Michael liked to kiss. “Should we be skinny-dipping at the start of a new summer season?” “Probably not.” Cal ran a strong hand through Michael’s chestnut hair and gazed into his exotic eyes. “What if a guest comes early?” “He can get his own boyfriend.” Cal pressed his tongue inside Michael’s welcoming mouth. It felt warm, and Cal wanted more. As Michael stroked Cal’s broad shoulders and round pectoral muscles, prominent from working out at Cozzi’s gym, Cal pressed his nose against Michael’s thick neck and enjoyed the scent of vanilla. Michael’s African-American and Swedish heritage awarded him smooth golden skin that Cal loved to caress. Cal thought about the eleven-year difference in their ages, how they had met when Michael, still in the closet, tried to gay bash him in an alley, and the year Michael still had left to finish college. It was illogical and improbable for Cal and Michael to be together, yet it felt incredibly right. At that moment, he couldn’t be more in love with Michael. George Valis, wearing a violet polo shirt and white shorts that accentuated his muscular legs, stepped out of Bungalow Seven and met them at the cove. “Hey, my ex back in Maine dumped me, remember? Stop rubbing in your happiness, you two.” “Have breakfast with us.” Michael’s dimples appeared. “Cal is making a feast.” “And Michael is cleaning up after me.” “As usual.” George winked at Michael. They got out of the water and put on the terrycloth robes they’d left on a rock at the water’s edge. Cal smiled at the sight of his brother’s height and eye color, which was exactly the same as his own. Cal and George shared the same father, with George being the result of Cal Cozzi II’s infidelity. They had met for the first time last summer when George looked Cal up, and Cal couldn’t have been happier to have a brother like George. He mussed George’s dark hair affectionately. “After breakfast, I’ll pack a lunch for your ride back to Maine.” Michael’s shoulders slumped. “Do you have to go?” Cal put his arm around Michael, recalling the brother Michael had lost two summers ago to suicide. “Bungalow Seven is always here for George.” “Good.” George grinned like a kid with a secret. “It looks like I’ll be staying for a while longer.” “Yeah!” Michael gave George a hug. “Cal will make a special celebration dinner tonight.” He kissed Cal’s cheek. “My favorite is surf and turf.” “How about I leave my turf and throw you in the surf at the main beach instead?” Cal kissed Michael’s neck and then turned to his younger brother. “What’s up, bro?” George looked at them and giggled. “Clearly you two, just before I arrived.”

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Meet the Author

Joe Cosentino was voted 2nd Place Favorite MM Author of the Year in Divine Magazine’s Readers’ Choice Awards. He is the author of the Cozzi Cove series: Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back (Rainbow Award Honorable Mention/TBR Pile Favorite Book of the Month), Cozzi Cove: Moving Forward, Cozzi Cove: Stepping Out, Cozzi Cove: New Beginnings (NineStar Press); the Nicky and Noah mysteries: Drama Queen (Divine Magazine Readers’ Favorite LGBT Mystery Novel, Humorous Novel, and Contemporary Novel), Drama Muscle (Rainbow Award Honorable Mention), Drama Cruise, Drama Luau, Drama Detective (Lethe Press); the Dreamspinner Press novellas: In My Heart/An Infatuation & A Shooting Star (Rainbow Award Honorable Mention), The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland (Open Skye Book Reviews Favorite Audiobook of the Month), A Home for the Holidays; and the Jana Lane mysteries: Paper Doll, Porcelain Doll, Satin Doll, China Doll, Rag Doll (The Wild Rose Press). He has appeared in principal acting roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. Joe is currently Head of the Department/Professor at a college in upstate New York, and is happily married.

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