sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
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: (oh yeah)
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: (drama)
I've been waking up too early this week, no thanks to my bladder. I'm guessing I need to cut down on salt.
Remember that dream I had about my niece a few nights ago, the one Evil Sister has prevented me from seeing for years? I told my mom, ending the email with, "Goddamn [Evil Sister]." Mom forwarded the email to ES without my knowledge. ES's response? "Nice."

Why did Mom do that? I'm not sure, but probably to remind ES of what an asshole she's been. I'm not too bent out of shape about it because it's a fait accompli without tangible consequences for anyone, but I'd rather Mom didn't do that.
Since I didn't do Norwescon; I'm not doing the Vampire Ball this year; and it's been a cold, grey winter & spring even by Seattle standards, I'm starting to get a bit stir crazy. I'm starting to make plans for Critical, to which I haven't been in five years.

I wonder if it's too soon to ask my ladies about Pride plans. Cruising the Hill with the Siberian Siren, especially on the Saturday afternoon before Pride, has become a cherished tradition. My son's birthday is also that day, so I figure he'll want to go out to dinner that evening. And hey, any of you local queers who'd like to join me for the aforementioned cruising or any of the three marches - trans, dyke, and everybody - hit me up.
sistawendy: (dolly)
I went to a smallish, low-key, semi-official techno thing down in the south end. Theme? Outer space. The DJs were all from the Vancouver area, and two of them were women. I have to say that I loved Lola Vutru, a.k.a. LVT. And one of the DJs (who I didn't quite last long enough to hear, alas) told me that unlike Seattle, Vancouver does not shut down in the winter. I'll have to keep my antennae up, and remember not to drive there ever again, unless I have some guarantee of a parking space under any circumstances.

But the real news last night was Brown Eyes. She came and hung out during the early, ambient, and super spacey part of the night and chatted with me, but she didn't stay too long because she was anemic from bleeding so much. You see, she's got things growing within the muscle of her uterus (endomyelosis) and it needs to come out, so last night, as low key as it was, was her last hurrah before a hysterectomy. Estimated recovery time: six weeks. She lives near a light rail station, and I forsee trips to her place to bring her good cheer and whatever else she needs that I can carry. Remember, BE just recently got declared cured of breast cancer. No one knows if what's going on with her womb is related, but it's a horrible prospect.

Oh: As a legal stimulants that don't make me want to kill people go, yerba mate is pretty effective. I brought a can of mate lemonade for each of us, but Brown Eyes didn't want hers. That's probably the only reason I lasted until 0130 last night.
sistawendy: (weirded out)
Ever since I can remember, sudden exposure to sunlight has made me sneeze. This happened on the bus this morning - a rare sunny day in winter in Seattle - so I asked on certain other social media sites about this. Photic sneeze reflex is a thing! It's a common thing! And its genetics are well known and fairly simple.
Follow [personal profile] solarbird for your daily dose of outrage.
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
I just got my second of three injections for the hepatitis B vaccination. Dr. Leather Bear had mentioned it many times in the past, and since his whole practice is queer and therefore extra vigilant about STIs, I figured I better listen to him and get vaccinated. It's best in a large muscle - in this case my butt - because it's a 1 ml shot, but it's only a 25G needle, not one of the sewer pipes I need to inject girl 'roids.

And of course I'm wearing more leather than usual today. Doesn't everyone like to hear "Nice boots!" from their doctor?
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
I had a perfectly lovely dinner - vegan, of course - with Much Younger Woman. But instead of going back to her place for movies, etc. I just took the bus home afterward. Whatever crud I have prevented me from even walking in a straight line to the bus stop, and I had a brief similar experience on the way to dinner.

After a decent night's sleep, I feel much better. File this under D for "Don't be an idiot and listen to your body." This sickness thing is cramping my style.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
The plan: Get a running start on all the business of 2017 in the first workday of the year!

The reality: Sleep during the day instead of the night, and spend the rest of the time hacking like a consumptive at home, mostly in bed. I appear to have caught my son's cold, and I am displeased with it. I just hope I didn't give it to anybody I may have been in... close contact with on New Year's Eve.

Dammit, I've got stuff to do.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
Even though I lived in Gainesville, FL for all of my youth that I can remember, I never made it out to Payne's Prairie, a nature reserve and Florida's largest state park.* Seriously, this was a bucket list item for me. No, I didn't see much in the way of wild animals or birds due to the time of year, but I did get to walk on a forest trail for that eerily quiet primeval vibe with plenty of palmetto, magnolias, and vines & Spanish moss hanging off the live oaks. This little walk, plus walking up the steps of the 50' observation tower, just about did Mom in.

Speaking of Mom and her condition, well, it could be better. She's wobbly, and I wish I had a buck for each time I'd helped her remember a word since I arrived. (Unlike Ex, though, she can describe the word she's trying to remember. Get Oliver Sacks on the seance phone.) Mom has no intention of moving out of her big, beautiful house if she can help it. I don't blame her, but I wouldn't bet a lot of money on her being here in another five years. She's getting a reasonable amount of exercise, I think, but Good Sister & I concur that she isn't eating right. And I dare you to try telling her that; I already have.

Yesterday afternoon I drove up to the University of Florida campus. That may seem an odd place to go alone over the Christmas holiday, but it was my home away from home when I was young. I went for a stroll down memory lane: my dad's old office building, the duck pond by the student union where the whole famn damily would go feed the ducks, the library where I stealthily read everything I could get my hands on about transsexuals, the Music Building where I had so many lessons and orchestra rehearsals, the auditorium next door where I played and heard my fair share of concerts. Next to the auditorium I had to sit down and cry for my dad, the state of the country and the world, and for the roads I didn't take. To be fair to myself, though, nearly all of the fucking up I did happened after I left Florida.

There's a hippy-dippy used bookstore about ten blocks' walk from Mom's house that's been around since I was here. Now that's the Gainesville I remember. I walked over there with Mom and got something light & fluffy**. I've read it already; I don't care. And for about the umpteenth time in as many years, I walked Mom into the ground again. She's really hesitant about stepping onto verges or off curbs, and I think that's for the best.

When Mom went to bed, I bopped over to chez [livejournal.com profile] cardinalximinez & [livejournal.com profile] fizzgig_bites for some much-needed time with people my own age. I hadn't seen their daughter in five years; the girl is proudly kicking butt in school & extra-curriculars. I'm happy for them all, and not so much jealous as beat down about my own son's difficulties. But still, it was a wonderful evening and I owe them all for helping me recover some sanity. If we make it out to the University Club - Gainesville's only gay bar - drinks are on me.

Mom didn't have a proper whistling teakettle until I got her one this morning at the big mall across the street from my elementary school. (My sisters & I remember when it was a horse pasture.) Recent events had me extra alert for signs of hostility, but the only thing remotely like that was one blue-collar looking dude taking a smoke break who discreetly checked me out - I saw his reflection - for reasons uncertain. Mom warned me about the likelihood of a crush of last-minute shoppers, but it was less crowded than a typical weekday afternoon at a Seattle-area mall. I wouldn't have known it was Christmas without the decorations and Santa hats. It is to laugh.

This afternoon, Mom took me on a tour of... new construction. No, really, new apartments and shopping centers. Why she's interested and why she thinks I'm interested I'm not quite sure. But nevertheless, I've seen plenty of evidence that Gainesville is prospering, driven at least in part by an influx of retirees attracted to medical facilities, which owe much to the U of F.

ETA: Mom has sensibly given up climbing, so she needed me to change a compact fluorescent light for her. The base of it was so hot that it burned my hand, and I dropped it. It broke. I may have huffed a little mercury vapor, but I also may have saved my mom from dying in a fire. Go me?



*The Everglades are a national park.
**Bill Bryson, Notes From a Small Island.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
Had a lovely time at a certain solstice pah-tay. Homemade, lite-'n-fluffy egg nog; hypnotic TV, including "how things are made" videos and early CGI; and people wearing blinky lights. I wore two long velvet skirts with my scissor leggings underneath. Of course I showed off the latter because how could I not? I blame [livejournal.com profile] vixyish for being a wonderful enabler. And I was saved from walking to and waiting for the bus on a -3C night when another partygoer offered me a ride home.

This morning I went with the Siberian Siren to get our nails done in Renton. Why there? The SS wanted something super fancy, but didn't want to spend $100 on a manicure. While there, I found out that Exdad has taken a turn for the worse, which I didn't realize until after I'd said something kind of cheeky about how I couldn't walk Ex's dog just then and that she should ask our son instead of me. D'oh! After eats and electrolysis, I took my fab new FM red nails to Ex's and walked the dog.

The latest information I have is that Exdad was on his way to an ICU in Seattle, having possibly had another stroke, where they'll try to get him read for shunt surgery. His pneumonia complicates that. So yeah, Ex is kind of in hell right now. I have put the word on our son not to be a pill to her while I'm in Florida.

Oh: the SS gave me Russian halva, AKA crumbly gray crack, for Christmas. I shared it with m'boy after a pizza at our fave vera pizza joint up the hill. He agrees with my assessment of its addictiveness. I could make it if I had a blender, which I'm tempted to do if I ever need to bring a dessert.
sistawendy: (stern nun)
I woke up at 0530 this morning not due to Trump-induced tachycardia, but because I needed to be in Totem Lake* by 0730 so my son could get his wisdom teeth out. We were in & out pretty quickly, which caught me off guard and in the middle of doing the XCode tutorial. Ex had asked me to shoot video of him right after he came to, but I was too busy listening to post-op care instructions and trying to understand his speech, badly impeded by a mouthful of gauze. Besides, he nixed his mother's idea last night.

My heavens, was he cranky. He wouldn't keep the gauze in his mouth on the way home, complaining mightily about it. When the surgeon called to check on him, the doc graciously said it was OK to ditch the gauze if m'boy wasn't bleeding.

So right now I'm letting him sleep in the blessed, cold, clear sunlight. And I'm trying to eat and do housework quietly. At some point I've got to get some milk in him to combat post-anesthetic nausea, give him his amoxicillin at 1400, get some soup in him when he's hungry (his request: split pea), and pick up his prescriptions. (Yeah, this paragraph is primarily for my benefit.) UPS needs to get here with my girl 'roids so I can leave the apartment.

Ex says she'll take the Wendling home with her tomorrow while I'm at work. I'm OK with that.



*A suburb of Seattle, and not one of the closer ones, for those of you who lack webbed feet. Officially it's in the northern part of Kirkland, so it's not far (by suburban standards) from the erstwhile Abbey.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
Yesterday's phone call to Mom lasted about half an hour, as usual, but there are a few seconds of it that stuck in my mind, whether I like it or not. I was telling Mom about Nazis painting swastikas everywhere.

Mom: But Hitler's dead.
Me: [brief stunned silence] They're trying to bring him back in spirit, Mom.

She simply can't conceive of a fascist takeover here. And she's far from alone. (It occurred to me later that she may think I'm saying the Nazis are attempting some kind of seance; she's into the woo.) And this is nothing compared to the tales of brick walls I hear my co-workers running into when they talk to their families.

Getting people, especially older people of any political stripe, to get it is (for now?) a monumental task. People are going to die because of this election.

Happy thotz:
  1. My lower back and my toenail have healed up. If I'm going to protest & stuff, I need to be 100%, right?
  2. People are melting the phone lines to the House oversight committee. They're the people who'd call hearings into Trump's conflicts of interest.
  3. The protest at Green Lake that I went to on Saturday made the local paper.
  4. My sleep is still kind of meh, but I'm doing pretty well for MBSOs.
To do: Thanksgiving ingredients, letters to electors.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Yesterday didn't start well: I'd gotten to bed at a reasonable hour in anticipation of visiting Ex's dad in the hospital, but I woke up at 0415 and couldn't get back to sleep. So I drank some extra tea, did my usual morning thing*, got lunch with m'boy and then took him 25 miles up I-90 to the hospital in Snoqualmie.

Exdad wasn't having the best of days. He could only talk in short, often incomplete sentences, and he wouldn't take his eyes off the college football on TV. (Ex says he doesn't even like to watch football. He's a baseball fan, and has even had a baseball job. Ex's stepmother later told us to turn off the TV if we want to get Exdad's attention. Uh, what?) At one point I asked him if he knew who I was. He replied, "Of course!" A few minutes later he used my dead name, and I gently reminded him of the current one. As I told the Wendling when he asked about it, that didn't surprise or bother me in the slightest. Exdad tried to climb out of bed (probably to pee, says Ex), but he didn't even have the presence of mind to use the side without the rail, so we got the nurses to stop him, calm him down, and readjust his position a little. Poor guy. I'm guessing he'll be in there at least another week.

Where was Ex, you ask? She'd just had an infusion of something for her arthritis on Friday, and those always knock her out of commission for a few days. The text message with instructions that she sent to me ran on for hundreds of words. As usual I ended up ignoring most of it. Ex gets off on ordering people around as does her mother. Someday I'll get around to pointing that out to her, but it's not really my problem any longer.
Got home, turned around twice, and took buses & a train to Lambert House, where I was supposed to crunch numbers. Knowing the director as I do, I texted him an hour in advance. No response. Got to the house. It was locked, and his car was nowhere to be seen. More texts. No response. A slice of quiche and an ill-advised mocha later**, more texts, buses, and trains. I'm on the bus home - after getting soaked - when the director said he was on his way because volunteer training just ended. I remember his mentioning that when we made the appointment so maaaybe I got the time wrong, but Christ on a pogo stick. We've rescheduled for tomorrow.
Tried to nap in anticipation of part of the Chance of Rain festival. See "ill-advised mocha" above. My eyelids were stuck in the up position until 2300, after which I slept for ten hours. Silver lining: Chance of Rain is doing a day rave on the roof of the Monkey Loft this afternoon. I think I've earned it, thank you very much.



*Breakfast & workout.
**Bakery Nouveau. Damn, they're good.
sistawendy: (drama)
Content warning: self-injury. )
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
I just took the day off and got my first ever root canal, hold the gas. The anesthetic still hasn't worn off. I have to tell you it wasn't as unpleasant as my most recent crown, not even close. Please, please let this be over. I've had pain of one kind or another on the left side of my mouth for six months.

Fun fact: referred pain often makes it difficult to pinpoint which tooth has the problem. This was true in my case.

Still stocking up for )'(. While I'm waiting to feel my face so I can eat safely, I think I'll quarter & dry some more figs. Don't tell Ex I got them from PCC and not her pal with the trees.
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
Finished sewing 20' of EL wire to my playa coat. That was about ten hours I hope were well spent.

Got stood up by my first date on Saturday night. Stay classy, OKCupid ladies. Not to worry: I deliberately wore warm-weather Goth so I could hang at El Norte and show off the aforementioned coat to its previous owner, [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth.
Dried one bunch of kale and a quart (wet volume) of strawberries. I'm basically going to dry all the things until I run out of either container or fridge space*, whichever comes first. The to-dry list:
  • a second bunch of kale
  • more strawberries
  • broccoli
  • marinated tofu
  • maybe blueberries - Blanching them to break the skins but not enough to turn them to mush is tricky.
  • maybe jerky - I'd need to feel super-motivated for this.
  • But dude, squid in Korean spices or salmon? Could be bomb.

My teeth were fine all of yesterday on just morning ibuprofen, until I tried to go to sleep last night. I took two vitamin I and went to bed, and then they started throbbing. I suspect I did a poor job of pain management yesterday and paid the price for it.



*Yes, I'm keeping them in the fridge until I leave. That's what the dehydrator manufacturer recommends.
sistawendy: (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
Waking up at 0415 with a throbbing in my mouth, for the umpteenth time this month, was too much. I just got my latest crown ground down for the second time in as many weeks. It turns out that the lab made it look like teeth do when they originally grow in, i.e. sharpish and not flat like the tooth that it replaced or indeed all of my teeth after over three decades of nighttime grinding. We shall see.

The hypochondriac in me wonders what my recent ibuprofen habit is doing to my liver. I really, really want to get this taken care of before I head for the playa. Dental woes out there? Even less fun than elsewhere.

dust lust

Jul. 21st, 2016 12:35 pm
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
I'm told that my Burning Man ticket & vehicle pass are on their way to me via certified mail. Eeeeeeee! I anticipate an excited bike ride to the Wallingford P.O.

Speaking of vehicle passes, I finally scraped the one from '14 off the inside of my windshield using an X-Acto knife and alcohol. I just couldn't bring myself to do it until yesterday: nostalgia meets procrastination.

I've only sewn 10' of my 20' of electroluminescent wire to my coat. I keep finding other things to do like buy and use X-Acto knives. But fear not, I shall finish.
Teeth & jaw: hurting less, but not quite there yet. My son kindly pointed out that I'm about to run out of ibuprofen.
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
Remember how my jaw and molars have been hurting? Well, the night guard turned out not to be the problem. After I posted Sunday's entries, the pain came roaring back.

So, off to the dentist I went today. At no point did she mention TMJ. Instead, she ground down that latest crown. It was... not fun thanks to the cold instrument, but my bite is much comfier now. That is, I can chew normally in comfort for the first time in months. She said it might take a week for the pain to subside everywhere, but so far so good.
My son has been showing signs of maturity lately, like keeping on top of school stuff and picking up after himself. Be still, my beating heart!
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Went to Itto's Tapas in West Seattle with the Tickler Saturday night. Lovely food & drinks outdoors; will munch there again. We walked a few blocks to chase the sunset while singing "Sodomy" from the musical Hair, because the Tickler is cool like that.

Not so cool was what the little bit of bread and ice cream did to her shortly after we got back to her place. It was a gamble, as she said at the time, but she lost. So, the evening got a bit truncated - no dancing, abbreviated ahem - but I'm not too put out by it because cuddles. Breakfast at her place, which has a sliver of a view of the harbor, was really nice.
Over the last few weeks I've had teeth and occasionally my left jaw joint be so sore that I've had to take ibuprofen a couple of times a day. It hurts enough to wake me up. The Tickler speculates that it might be TMJ. When she had it it was stress-related, but the only really stressful thing in my life these days is my son, and that's been going on for nearly two decades.

But there was one other thing I learned at the Tickler's: I didn't bring my night guard, which I usually wear at night to prevent tooth grinding. Lo and behold, no jaw soreness yesterday morning (but still some sore molars). I had some alterations to my most recent crown two or three months ago, so now I'm wondering if my night guard no longer fits.

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