sistawendy: (wtf laughing)
2017-07-28 02:35 pm
Entry tags:

The last divorce-related errand. This time for sure.

Ex and I had to bop all the way out to the outer suburbs to cancel our safe deposit box, the last account of any kind that we held jointly. Yes, we split the phone bill. Yes, we split the car insurance & registration. And oh yeah, we sold a house a couple of years back. It's good to be well & truly done with divorce tasks, more than nine years (!) after starting down this road emotionally and two years legally.

Ex, to my small embarrassment but no great surprise, tried to get out of paying $80 one last time, but nope. We could have if we'd jumped on it a couple of weeks ago, but between Ex's arthritis and her stepmother's broken bones, that didn't happen.

What was weird about this was how we act when we're together: we talk non-stop, about our son, about our parents, about the news. I felt a little sorry for the bank employees. I found myself wishing we were having lunch instead of in a bank branch. It's bittersweet - still - to hang out with the woman I once believed was Ms. Right. (Yeah, I know a lot of you don't exactly share that sentiment. You have a point, and you've made it. Now hush.)

You want to know why so much of my life is devoted to the search for the new Ms. Right? See the above paragraph. Most of the people reading this who have primary partners found them at ages significantly younger than I am now. Maybe my son's right, and I'm ducking foomed. Ex expresses a healthy skepticism of the wisdom of the young. I sure hope she's right this time.
sistawendy: (smartass hester)
2017-07-27 12:12 pm
Entry tags:

an experiment in RSI

I've been wondering lately which is worse for the RSI in my wrist: vigorous, frequent jilling off, or the integrated, flat rectangular keyboards with chiclet keys that come with Macbooks? Evidently it's the latter. I have fancy new Kinesis Advantage keyboards at work and at home, but I've also been a bit... reckless otherwise. I'm feeling some ill effects, maybe - it's hard to get away from the chiclets completely - but nothing compared to months past.

This is good news, to say the least.
sistawendy: (flirty hippy)
2017-07-27 11:05 am

theme: walking around the north end

On the way to get my hair done yesterday I ran into A, the seamstress who'll be doing part of my birthday ensemble. Fun fact: years ago, I dated A a few times. I knew A had just had a bad breakup and was looking for a place to live & sew. She still can do the commission and wants it. (Whew!) What I wasn't sure of was the identity of her erstwhile partner & apartment mate: N, who holds the distinction of being the only woman ever to grab me by the hair, get me up against a wall, and make out with me. As much as I love having several of my buttons mashed at the same time, the sensible side of me says I dodged at least one bullet.

Drinks on Phinney Ridge* with [personal profile] minim_calibre Tuesday evening. It was a bonding experience: two middle-aged queer ladies with kids and much else in common. This only happens once in a purple moon, and I wish it happened way more often. She walked me home down the ridge, and then asked which way back up to her car was least likely to trash her knees. Aw! And yikes!

Yesterday, an increasingly rare dinner at home with the Wendling followed by dragging him up the ridge to catch the sunset. Good: he whined about that less than he used to. Bad: he expressed the opinion that I'll never find Ms. Right. He makes the absolutely ironclad point that it gets harder as you get older. Thanks a lot, kiddo.



*Cocktails for me, mocktails for her, because reasons.
sistawendy: (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
2017-07-25 12:32 pm

a double-decker shit sandwich by proxy

I went to Lambert House to do trans group for the third week in a row. There are supposed to be three facilitators who rotate, but last night's called in sick with three hours to go. I was low on sleep, but I was also the only one who could make it, so I came in.

Back when I did my volunteer training at the end of 2011, I was one of several new volunteers who wondered what we should do in the case of youth talking about suicide. Well, after all these years it happened. I asked the youth if they were actively suicidal; no, thank God, but they've been thinking about suicide off and on since they were eight years old. And I'm beyond relieved that I didn't get that creepy something's-weird-and-they're-hiding-something feeling that I got from Dag. I told the other volunteers in the house what I just told you and left a note in the database. It's pretty much out of my hands until next week, when I'll be there as scheduled for the fourth week in a row.

The ACA took a big step towards repeal today. This could mean that Ex will spend every penny I give her in alimony on drugs to stay ambulatory. I'm amazed she isn't freaking out online yet.

Fuck. Fuck parents who don't get it. Fuck sexual predators. Fuck soulless, gutless politicians. Fuck greed-crazed billionaires.

Fuck.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
2017-07-22 10:28 am
Entry tags:

party, strippers & ice cream, hospital, party

This is another one of those entries that got delayed because I was doing too much.

Party #1: My employer's annual marketing conference always ends with a big party. And marketers are notorious, at least among engineers, for how much alcohol they put away. Such social. Very booze. Wow. I spent much of the evening with a devastatingly attractive & stylish straight woman with cute queer hair from NYC; she was that cool.

Strippers, etc.: I'd kind of felt guilty about not going to any of the Tickler's burlesque shows, so without really being invited I met her at the Debauchery night at Neighbours. It was to be the last one after six years of monthly nights of queer, non-profit "stripping", as the MC and producer put it. She was verklempt pretty often. The Tickler had performed at that night and knew everyone, but she was in the audience with me that night.

Maybe my attitude toward it was colored by running on four hours' sleep from the previous night, but as expected, it didn't knock my socks off. There were a couple of performers that I really liked - one of them reminded me of Opium, serial "winner" of Bang for the Buck - but the rest I could have happily missed. And yes, super queer, super gender-fucky, and body positive. The good news for fans is that a new night, Queers Queers Queers, will start up next month with a different producer.

After the show, the Tickler & I hit Molly Moon's for ice cream for her approximate birthday. Then she drove me home, for which I sincerely promised to give her endless head. On the way home around 2330, I got a text from Ex saying that my ex-stepmother K had broken her foot and was in a hospital in Redmond. Since I was the only one with a car, could I please take her home?

Le sigh. So I drove out, still in my red satin party dress and killer 'Vogs, and got K around 0100. She was dizzy & nauseated from the drugs they gave her, and narrowly missed my car with her barf. If you'll recall, she's a bit of a hoarder, which meant I couldn't find the walker she insisted was in her garage full of junk, just crutches. I must have taken half an hour to get her the forty feet from my car to her house. I made it home just after 0200. Ex, Exbrother (who had to fly up from CA again), and Mr. Right Now (who's married to somebody other than Ex and therefore eligible for serious karma) took over from there. K's own kids are out of state, but I think they're getting in on the action, too.

I took yesterday off because zombie, except for the monthly queer lunch at work for which I'm the organizatrix. Then party #2 at Diminutive's* charmingly 1950s house way up in the north end. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of pretty, Goth AF, and maybe kinda sorta queer women - I'm never really sure about Diminutive & her friends - many of whom remembered me better than I remembered them. Do they remember me because I'm trans or do I fail to remember them because Diminutive & friends can be relied upon for quantity & quality of alcohol?

Enough wacky hijinks for a while, I think.



*Diminutive's name is the diminutive form of mine. Also, she's tiny and I'm not. I love that.
sistawendy: (stern nun)
2017-07-19 12:51 pm
Entry tags:

Nun preaches the trans gospel.

Remember that five-minute version of "How to Change Sex the Easy Way" I was working on? Well, I delivered it last night.

Lesson #1: If you know you're going to be speaking in a hall with excellent acoustics for unamplified music and not a small, dead room, you'll want to talk slowly. I didn't go quite far enough in whittling my 45-minute talk down.

Lesson #2: Talking fast makes some mics - in this case a cardioid headset - crackle. The sound techs asked me if I could talk slower. You know, this talk I'd practiced several dozen times with precisely 15 seconds per slide. 'Not so much,' I thought. They dispensed with the cardioid; luckily they had two other headsets.

Lesson #3: Microsoft Powerpoint needs to be banned. Like so many MS products, it doesn't seem to understand "I want it here."

The talk itself went OK. I almost failed to notice one slide transition, but the boozed-up audience helped me out. I think I got the point across that my way was the easy way by far, even though it wasn't that easy. It seems to have been well received.

Mine was one of two queer-themed talks. The other was an excellent talk by a bi woman about, well, being bi. It was nothing new to anyone who knows (vast thundering mobs of) bi people as I do, but it was stuff that did need to be said.

Oh by the way, there as an adorable lesbian from Arizona who delivered a talk about her guinea pigs. No, really. I hung out with her a lot at the party afterward, natch.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
2017-07-17 01:28 pm
Entry tags:

drive-by weekend

Poutine and mighty fine absinthe at the Gainesbourg with J & R Friday night. It's almost as if they're keeping their killer selection a secret - you have to ask for the list, at least these days - and they've got the best stuff in town. Strange.

I attempted to have a date with Much Younger Woman at the Merc on Saturday night, but she bailed at the last minute due to brain issues. Le sigh. I'd even dressed sexy.

Was a sleepy zombie yesterday, but still managed to take care of business. Currently at StartupCo's annual conference. Grenade is here again. Much excitement tomorrow and the next day, some of which will take me away from my son. I'm not pleased about that.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
2017-07-14 11:20 am
Entry tags:

some good political news from WA

I just learned, a week after the fact, that "bathroom bill" initiative 1552 did not get enough signatures to be on the ballot here in Washington state. This despite the 1552 proponents' ties to deep-pocketed national organizations including the Family Research Council, and all the lies they told to get signatures.

How did I miss this? Not reading enough in Zuckerberg's data mine, probably. I can't say I regret that, though. My son, who usually finds out about things later than I do because I'm a Twitter addict, knew before I did but didn't tell me, which now that I think of it is kind of weird.

How did it happen? Sure, trans folks had an organization in Washington Won't Discriminate, and I know I've done what I can to throw cash and raise awareness. But mainly I think it's because the mighty, the awesome Evergreen State doesn't suck.

Will it happen again? Probably. It happened before with I-1515, and witness how long-lived Tim Eyman's odious career has been even years after it largely stopped being successful.

I have taken the anti-1552 sign down from my front window, and cancelled my vandalism plans.

ETA: I'm kind of hoping there will be a victory party like the one for 1515. That was fun.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
2017-07-13 02:27 pm
Entry tags:

my son; my speech

I made dinner for m'boy last night, which wouldn't be noteworthy except that I hadn't done so in about a month. After dinner, as I did the dishes, he scoured the neighborhood for the latest issue of The Economist. Happiness. I do wish, however, that he would walk instead of drive because my neighborhood is walkable and not that well supplied with parking. I'm afraid living on the east side (of Lake Washington, i.e. Seattle's eastern suburbs for you non-locals) taught him some bad habits that he has yet to unlearn.
I've been practicing the bejeezus out of a five-minute version of my talk "How to Change Sex the Easy Way" for a series of talk to be delivered at StartupCo's annual marketing conference next week. The founder of the company asked me to do it, and I wasn't about to say no because of him, me, and all my trans peeps.

Twenty slides, exactly 15 seconds per slide. It's kind of brutal. I've had to ditch a lot of the emotional content of the original 45-minute talk that I think is the best part. I'm a tiny bit worried that the talk won't go over well even if my delivery is right on. All I can do now is polish the delivery.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
2017-07-11 12:31 pm

returning to the nunly normal

Back into the work groove, which always involves fighting fires more than it ought to.

Lambert House last night. I finally got around to asking the director, Ken, what to do about folks in trans group who suck all the oxygen out of the room. This is a frequent occurrence, and I'm not proud to admit that I've never really known how to deal with it, so I didn't try.

Also, I told Ken about my tabling at Pride, especially that people wanted to know about the house's financial situation. He was hoping he could get some pro fundraisers on board before he had to message that, but he might have to reconsider, he said; props to him for being careful. As usual, I got an earful about incompetence and skullduggery at city hall, and stuff I need to do to the database to protect the house from it. I'm on it, but only time will tell if it's soon enough.

The Wendling is back with me for four nights to make up for when I was at Critical. I'd barely seen him for two weeks. Yeah, I missed him. He put his clean laundry away before I got home without needing to be reminded. That made me inordinately happy, and I told him so.

Other things that make me happy:
  • Making plans with the Siberian Siren to make plans for the Folsom Street Fair.
  • Planning a date with Much Younger Woman.
  • Getting a record recommendation from the Tickler that I have no doubt is solid.
  • Hearing from Ex that an old college chum has tracked me down, but doesn't yet know about my sex switcheroo.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
2017-06-30 12:31 pm
Entry tags:

Nun disappears into comic book.

For the first time in maybe ever, I've binge-read a comic series.

In the last, what, eight days? I've bought and read all seven volumes of Saga. It is, in the words of one friend, unreasonably good. Yes, it's a space opera with a bit of "Romeo & Juliet" in the story, but it's also got everything from extended family dynamics to social commentary to mild pornography. Saga has it all: heart, mind, and looks.

Writer Brian Vaughan, who's worked in film & TV, says he set out to do something that would be prohibitively expensive to film. Good on him. And unsurprisingly, it's published by Image. I have yet to read a title of theirs that I didn't like.
sistawendy: (weirded out)
2017-06-28 01:05 pm

just another (P)ride on the E line

Party weekends like Pride leave me with a messy apartment. I can't not clean it at the earliest opportunity, which is how I spent all my non-work waking hours yesterday. My apartment is spiffy, and I am at peace. Am I hausfrau* material, or what?

But before I could finish cleaning, I had to take the bus home. As I got up to get off, I spotted my neighbor B. He asked how Pride weekend was for me. I said, "It was..." and racked my brain for the right words.
"The end of the game," said some skinny blond dude next to us as he looked at me intently.
"The end of the game?" I didn't quite believe my ears.
"The end of the game."
Mercifully, the doors opened right then and B and I got off without our interlocutor. "I don't know what he meant by that," I said, "and I'm not sure I want to."
"Yeah," said B, "I noticed him earlier. He's on something, and I'm pretty sure I know what." It isn't hard to guess: meth. You see, my bus spends most of its route on an ugly arterial that runs the length of Seattle's lily white north end, with one concentration of substance abusers downtown, another one at the far end of its trip, and relatively more tech industry stiffs like B & me in between**.

From the Dept. of Happy Thotz, when the Tickler bailed on Pride she said we should make plans. You know I don't sleep on that stuff; we have a hot date planned for Saturday.



*I once referred to myself as a hausfrau in front of my first queer kiss. She told me that her mother did the same. Holy Oedipal Lesbian, Batman!
**I speak of Lake Union, Queen Anne, Fremont, Wallingford, Phinney, Green Lake, and (south?) Greenwood.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
2017-06-26 12:34 pm
Entry tags:

Pride: the meh edition

I got gussied up Saturday in my new red satin halter dress and took my son to the Greenwood car show, which was just up the ridge from my place and a lot of fun. It's a combination history lesson and nostalgia trip, with a little culture mixed in: m'boy didn't know what a low rider was, and there were some beautiful examples. (I had to explain them to my mom over the phone later.)

There was one bummer, though: Sitting in a lawn chair near one of the cars was a lady in her sixties. She complimented me on my outfit and asked, "Do you do shows?"
'Uh oh,' I thought. "No. In fact, I'm not sure what kind of shows you mean."
"Drag shows."
"No."
"Aren't you a man?"
"No."
She apologized profusely. "I understand your confusion," I said.
My son was standing with me the whole time. Once we were out of earshot I said, "Welcome to my life." I suppose it could have been worse, but it could have been a whole lot better as well. Happy Pride, indeed.

On to the Broadway street fair - the Wendling declined my invitation - where I got to see a few queer peeps. Plug: Asylum Leathers. I tried their posture collars, and got a nice leather mask for sleeping. No, really, that's what I use them for.

I ran into the Siberian Siren, who lives nearby, and grabbed some Indian eats with her. When we eat together, she complains about work and I complain about dating, which seems fair to me. The SS had decided to pre-funk her party, which was a nice way to take a load off but conflicted with the Dyke March. On the way to her party, I got to sheepishly answer one friend's question about why I wasn't marching. I'd rather not do that again.

The Siren's party got off a slow start. It took us a while to get a table all together because we weren't on time; the SS's chronic lack of punctuality seemed to have infected the whole party. But once it got going? Oh em gee. I don't want to look at another alcoholic beverage for a while.

Sunday? Parking lot party and parade. No SS or AJ, though: laid low by the party the previous night. It was heartening to see [profile] dementiana walking - for the first time since '05, she said - with the Goths. I learned that in addition to the regular Leather Pride flag we all know, there are leather boy and leather girl flags.

This is my major complaint about Pride this year: all my lady friends - the Tickler, E from work, even the SS on Sunday - bailed on at least part of the festivities, so it was kind of lonely for me. When I got to the Seattle Center, I remembered a few years back when I went with Temptress - her first time - and we got to be dirty old women together. Dammit, I need a girlfriend who's into Pride as much as I am. I need a girlfriend who's into a lot of things as much as I am.
sistawendy: (stern nun)
2017-06-24 08:12 am
Entry tags:

Nun acts nunly, in a queer way.

Last night I skipped the Trans Pride march to set up & staff the table for Lambert House at the rally in the park that followed. That was more intense than I expected: I must have spoken to at least a hundred people in ones and twos over the course of three or so hours about the house.

Categories of people my fellow volunteer S and I talked to, in decreasing order of number:
  • People who just wanted to know what we were about - we're a safe place for queer kids to be together, basically, plus activities, and a few social services. I got the impression that there are people who instantly understand the value of a safe space by and for queers, and there are people who don't. I'll give you one guess as to the queerness of each group.
  • People who wanted to volunteer! I only had a handful of paper applications, so I sent people to the web site and handed out volunqueer coordinator B's business card liberally.
  • People who wanted to know how the fund raising is going. Many people knew about the eleventh-hour loan we got last year and the consequent capital campaign. I know what's going on with that better than most volunteers by virtue of hanging out with the director to do reports, but even I don't know much. I do know that we need six- or better yet seven-figure donations in the next few years if we want to keep our house.
  • One therapist. I got to give him the special clipboard.

I got mysteriously cold after the sun went down, possibly a blood sugar crash from the absurdly early dinner I ate so I could be on time. S took pity on me, saying she'd tear down - I'd done most of the setup after literally running down the questionably parked B, who's no good at giving directions. I administered Molly Moon's ice cream and warm Guinness at the Merc immediately, but I completely struck out at finding anybody I knew who wanted to party on the Hill last night. Even the young Burning Man campmates I ran into were calling it quits early. Weird.

Picked up Saga, vol. 2 - so much tasty plot! - and came home to m'boy, was reminded how much I don't miss his clutter & mess in my apartment, and went to bed.

Today's plan: work out, get gussied up, Greenwood car show & pizza with m'boy, hit the Hill for the street fair & dyke march, and the Siberian Siren's party. If you want to meet up with me, late afternoon is your best bet.
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
2017-06-21 01:09 pm
Entry tags:

nun vs. RSI

I've taken a few steps recently to combat repetitive strain injury:
  1. I now use a Kinesis Advantage2 keyboard at work. The layout is different enough from my old Microsoft Natural that I'm still climbing the learning curve after about a week. It may necessitate getting another one for home to prevent the hangover of switching back and forth.
  2. Not using any damn built-in laptop keyboards. I swear those things are a major problem. I do have an MS Natural at home, but until recently I was only using it on my work machine, not my personal one.
  3. Ahem. Jilling off about half as often as I used to, which means it's less time-consuming as well. Ah, the tribulations of sex reassignment surgery, as mine was called at the time.
So is all of this working? I think so, but it's a little bit soon to tell.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
2017-06-20 01:12 pm

Nun saves the day by farting around on social media.

I mentioned on Zuckerberg's data mine a few days ago that I was going to be tabling for Lambert House at the Trans Pride march & rally this Friday. On Sunday, Elaine Wylie, one of the organizers of Trans Pride, who I know socially from way back, said that Lambert House hadn't registered and that we'd better hurry up if we wanted a space, and we'd have to bring our own furniture because that ship had sailed.

I sprang into action, emailing and leaving the justifiably hated voicemail for the LH volunteer coordinator, B. As luck would have it, I had trans group last night, so I got to see B. He says that a) he had thought that was as good as done earlier, b) now it really is mischief managed, c) LH has chairs & tables, and d) I'm a Hero of Socialist Queerdom for sounding the alarm. Another fine coincidence is that B had just called an unprecedented meeting of the trans group facilitators to talk about what we can do to boost attendance. That table should be a good start.

And oh by the way, there's another LH volunteer, P, who I know from the poly community. She's tall, zaftig, and cute. She's an amazing dresser. She says smart things in a deep, sexy voice. She's queer - yeah, nearly all LH volunteers are. And she'll be at the table for Trans Pride along with your ever-hopeful nun. Now that I type that, it occurs to me that she may not be as cisgender as I thought. Mrowr!
sistawendy: (eek)
2017-06-16 02:21 pm
Entry tags:

Nun has a lovely time crashing with her girlfriend.

I went out with the Tickler last night to see Cut Copy at the Neptune. But first, eetz: Since she really needs something gluten free, we went to Bol on 64th - the Tickler says not to go to the nearby test kitchen because it sucks several ways. Bol is a pho joint as conceived by hipsters: a simple, fairly ordinary menu with choice ingredients; good alcohol, appetizers, & dessert; higher prices; annoyingly hip utensils; and a smoking hot waitress with queer hair. Sure, would nom again, and not just because of the waitress, who the Tickler assures me is monogamously partnered up.

Minor problem: Bol is on 64th. The Neptune is on 45th. The Tickler resolved to drive us despite the pain that is parking in the U District. We were just a block from the Neptune in the fading twilight when she pulled over to let an ambulance by. As she was starting to get into the left lane, we got sideswiped by a black Nissan Leaf. I'm pretty sure it was speeding in the wake of the ambulance because its airbag deployed. Oh by the way, we hit an Uber in front of us, no thanks to Newtonian mechanics.

We're fine. In fact, ibuprofen last night was all it took for me. The Tickler may be shaken up a little worse, but she didn't do too badly either. She mulled seeing a doctor today, but I don't think I need to.

We spent most of the concert dealing with insurance & police, sometimes with me holding my umbrella over the Tickler. (Fun fact: the first cop on the scene, a UW officer, said he couldn't handle the case because the Leaf driver is a UW employee. Appearances, you know.) Once the Tickler's car, which isn't drivable but doesn't look that bad, got towed away, we walked one block to the Neptune in time to catch Cut Copy's encore. I'd planned to meet up with R & J there, but we never got closer than a text message. I got the Tickler a much needed whiskey, we peed, and we went back to her place. It occurred to both of us that our usual shenanigans were medically contraindicated; cuddles ensued.

I really did say this morning, "I had a lovely time crashing with you last night." How could I not?
sistawendy: (butterfly)
2017-06-14 04:57 pm
Entry tags:

Pride plans and the occasional lack thereof

You'll find it surprising as sunrise to learn that I've made plans for most, but not all, of Pride weekend. That's the 23rd through 25th, for those of you who'll be in the Seattle area. I inexplicably haven't posted about it yet, so:

Friday 6/23 - The Trans Pride March, starting at SCCC. I'll be tabling for Lambert House at the rally to follow. Later that evening I don't have anything scheduled, but I intend to hang out on Capitol Hill and see what develops.

Saturday 6/24 -
  • The Greenwood Car Show and lunch with m'boy for his birthday.
  • Strolling around Broadway all femmed up at and near the street fair because need you even ask why?
  • The Dyke March. I don't know who with, and I don't care. I belong there too.
  • Witness for the Siberian Siren & A's anniversary dinner. Aw. Ordinarily I might be shaking my booty at Neighbours or something, but I ♥ the SS and the fact that she's finally found a good woman - she even gives me some credit for talking her into making a go of their relationship - so of course I'll be there. Booty-shaking may happen later, of course, but I make no promises.
Sunday 6/25 - The annual super-queer parking lot party at the SS's hair stylist, which is conveniently near the parade route. Fabulous food & drink, enough so that I feel compelled to raise my game. Attractive queer women who are of course half my age.

This isn't all that different from the last couple of years. Why no lady friends? Well, Brown Eyes will still be recovering from surgery. The Tickler turned me down as well, but I forget why.
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
2017-06-14 01:42 pm
Entry tags:

a small medical observation

One of the things that I do as part of my morning routine is the yoga tree pose for a bit on each foot. Why this one? Because my balance isn't so good, especially on my right foot. I offer two speculative reasons for this:
  1. I have no arches. I have an outstep where most people have an instep. My feet will, if sweaty or damp, make suction on smooth surfaces. It's a neat party trick, but it also means that the muscles, nerves, and connective tissues from my ankles on down aren't exactly nominal.
  2. I sprained my right ankle repeatedly at the end of the last century and didn't do physical therapy for it. I think this explains the asymmetry.
So why post about this now? Because I've noticed it's way easier to hold tree pose, especially on my right foot, if I've had a good night's sleep the night before. It was much easier for me this morning than yesterday morning for exactly that reason. Yeah, maybe that's from the Dept. of Duh, but I'm surprised at how dramatic the effect is.
sistawendy: (wtf laughing)
2017-06-13 01:10 pm
Entry tags:

Let the Critical prep begin!

I am wearing long sleeves, a high collar, leggings, wool blend socks, and a long, heavy skirt in complete comfort in the middle of June. Ah, Seattle.

The weather was so lovely on Sunday that I walked about five miles to get stuff (water treatment tablets, a parking pass) for Critical. That was in addition to my usual six miles of biking. I slept really well that night, which leads me to the unwelcome conclusion that if I want to sleep adequately, I need to exercise like a mofo. I'd be fine with that if it weren't so time-consuming.

Speaking of Critical, I started drying food last night. I'm relieved that I'm only spending four nights there - less drying needed - even if that'll make it harder to find a place to pitch my tent. I have to say, though, that I'm not feeling nearly as psyched as I do for a Burn. If I'm lucky, lower expectations will enhance the experience.

Something about driving far into the desert feels like a pilgrimage to me. I kind of feel sorry for the people who approach from the south, i.e. most of them; it's more crowded.