sistawendy: (weirded out)
Interesting fact about the Siberian Siren: she's afraid of dogs. Or at least she was, until she got a Husky mix puppy. She says she's cured now that she's had one for a few months. And she's about to celebrate her third anniversary with A, and asked for suggestions for something truly special to do to observe it. No marriage proposals, though, because she's against that, she says. I'm afraid I wasn't much help.
"Can I be jealous?" I asked.
"No."
It warms my cockles, though, to see A and this little pup file down some of the SS's rough edges. And if I remember, I'll keep thinking if things she could do for or with A. I think they both have it coming.

Took a co-worker, L, to the Mercury. It was her first time there. There was supposed to be at least four of us from StartupCo, but a couple of us got various kinds of crud. It was... surprisingly uneventful. There were many boozes. L met the dress code, no problem - cute shoes! - and R and I regaled her with tales of the Merc's past, among other things. With apologies to Auto Battery, having a pizza joint upstairs is a good idea; I just wish I could learn to stop hoping for good vegan pizza.

Lunch with the Islander on this beautiful Sunday. Her post-surgical health is improving, but it's a real struggle for her. I may not be the angel of death, but I'm starting to think I'm the angel of serious medical issues. It's been pointed out to me more than once that since I'm pushing fifty, and the ladies I'm dating aren't far behind me, this sort of thing is more likely regardless of angelic interference.

No bike rides this weekend, but I was compelled to walk around Green Lake in the sun.
sistawendy: (dolly)
It was lovely to see seldom-seen folks last night at Ye Olde Spooky Clubbe. But do you ever have one of those nights where you're pretty sure everything you said is stupid? That was last night for me. I blame enough alcohol (Thanks, Mercury bar staff!) and not enough sleep.
Speaking of stupid, a consistent and justifiable complaint of the Siberian Siren's is that I usually wear my beloved vintage Coach purse (the one that its former owner called the hippie bag, some of you may recall) with a black nylon REI backpack to hold my laptop. This situation is suboptimal because a) the SS is correct that it's not a good look, and b) I have extra bulk both in front of and behind me when I'm standing on a bus or train. So I took the poor widow's $10,000 the plunge further into hipsterism, hit the sale at REI, and got a black Chrome messenger bag. It has a seat belt buckle in front for quick releasing. It looks waterproof on the inside. There's room for both my laptop and the hippie bag; no way am I giving the hippie bag up because it's more suitable for outings on foot without my laptop, and it's just too well designed and made, even if I could stand to re-dye it. We shall see if I love the messenger bag, but I'm sure the E line and light rail passengers will thank stop hating me.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
I went to the Merc for drinks with Temptress last night followed by pizza upstairs. Two drinks and fatigue just about did me in at about 2330. I thought I'd gotten enough sleep the night before, albeit with a two-hour insomnia gap*, but maybe not. Poor Temptress. I don't think either of us were feeling it as much as I'd hoped we would, but I might have if I'd been physically with it. And I'd gone to the trouble of doing the post-boy tidying of my apartment.

How is it that three drinks with [personal profile] cupcake_goth on Thursday night on less sleep didn't leave me feeling so wiped out? A) They weren't Mercury drinks, B) it was earlier in the evening, C) I love hanging out with her not least because she knows & gets me like few (maybe no) other people, and D) I don't get to do that very often.

In resistance news, there's a rally against Initiative 1552, the anti-trans "bathroom bill" in Washington state, at noon at the UW Tacoma campus. I've got my Camelbak packed with food & water.

Then I have two clothing swaps this afternoon. Then I have dinner & dancing with the Tickler. Then coffee with K & more resistance activity.



*Fuck 45. Even the sweet old clerk at my local post office volunteered that she hates him.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
Yesterday: took care of business - car and hair - and ended up missing the women's march against hate on Capitol Hill, for which I feel a little guilty. Went to Mercury with [livejournal.com profile] ionan and my ex-co-worker M, who was a Merc virgin. M is a liberal evangelical Christian, so it was... an interesting exchange of cultures. Oh, and my makeout with another woman got compared to "Showtime softcore". Oh my.

Much social today: the last Mourning Market (*sniffle*) at which I replaced lost & destroyed jewelry, going all the way up to Snohomish County to say hi to [livejournal.com profile] ravenmimura and [livejournal.com profile] evillinn, and then to a casual meeting of protest artists organized by Grenade. Yes, Grenade is cute. Shaddup. I have an idea; I just need the time & energy to execute it. I still need to stuff envelopes going to Georgia.

ETA: The letters I printed out for Georgia on Friday don't mention Trump's phone call to Taiwan, which will definitely damage and may completely end diplomatic relations with China, the US's largest trading partner and, I think, creditor.
sistawendy: (drama)
The other day I ran out of butter and, due to Burning Man prep, ran low on fridge space. This meant I finally had to break down and get a butter dish. Luckily, I live a short walk from the Purple Store, which had just the thing. I got to talking with one of the owners, whom I recognize from [livejournal.com profile] nerdvana. (Pity I can't remember his name.) I'd noticed a land use sign on the building. He says he & his partners are in a race to buy the place so they can keep operating for a few years and then redevelop it, and do I know anyone in commercial real estate? I know someone in residential real estate: the Siberian Siren. I have duly contacted her.

He also had some info on the St. Germain Temple, which is housed in a nifty old 1920s movie theater next to his business. Yeah, it's a cult, and he confirmed my suspicion that they only use the place on Sunday afternoons. He said, "But they're funded, they're endowed."
"So they're not going anywhere," I said.
"Nope. It's one of the most underused spaces in the city."
That an almost criminal waste in a city with a real estate market like ours. That place cries out to be a live music venue in a part of the city that can be, well, a bit dull. Grrr!
Speaking of the Siberian Siren texted me last night asking, "Are you still planning to go to the Merc?"
Uh, I don't remember saying I was, but going to the Merc with the prettiest woman in the club? Shyeah! Go with the flow!

So yeah, it was a nice, low-key night. I didn't wear much due to the warm weather; it's fortunate that Broadway & Madison isn't a hub of pedestrian activity. The SS can be a terrible flirt, which I'm sure is one reason why I like her so much. Watching her in action gives me inner nyuks.

SFDs: MAC everything makeup, camisole, black & red corset, black mesh skirt, red fishnets, black thong, Fluevog Konas. It was the first time I'd worn heels in months and I'm happy to report that I'm not crippled.
Time to retrieve my dozen hard-boiled eggs.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
Went to my second annual pah-tay with the Siberian Siren & her partner A at the SS's hair salon, Collage, on 5th Ave. Best piece of Pride gear: a BiBi-8 t-shirt. Yes, BB-8 in bi Pride colors, worn by one of many cute queer black women about half my age. As always, first rate food & booze because (co-ed) urban queers.

The parade is on 4th Ave. Since it's such a long parade, I don't feel too bad about missing the beginning & end of it. Indeed, A & I agree that the best part of watching the parade was watching the Siren watch the parade. Here's this hardass, hard-headed Russian, who in many ways has had a hard life, turning into a wildly enthusiastic child right before our eyes. Happiness.

The SS didn't want to do the sardine scene that is the Seattle Center, at the end of the parade route. She was under the impression that there was more Pride-related stuff happening on Capitol Hill than there turned out to be. Nevertheless, we still had a lovely walk, yummy dinner at Chop Shop*, and Molly Moon's for ice cream. (That last was my idea. It's a personal Pride tradition.)

Oh: there were four of us. A & the SS had a houseguest, H, a younger bi woman who was crashing under their stairs, Harry Potter-style. She was raised very Jewish, so talking about it with H was a weird blast from my past. Her advice: don't be a tall or fat straight woman in Israel; her sister is both.

One member of Chop Shop's staff, a fellow with an accent that may have been east European, tried to direct me to the men's restroom. Not happening. H was right behind me in the women's, and I asked her, "Did I just experience a transphobic bummer?" She said, "Yup."

Netflix and chill at the SS's place. This is not a euphemism for a lesbian orgy, for better or worse; we really did watch TV & veg out for a while. I took the train to the UW, then the 44 to Fremont and walked the rest of the 30+ blocks home so I could burn some ice cream and watch the sunset from Phinney Ridge.

For Pride next year:
  • I've never been to R Place. Yeah, I know it's huge and full of kids and lowest-common-denominator music, but I have to do it once, right?
  • Dimples & Blondie are not wrong about the Wildrose: it's better for dancing than drinking on Pride. The gay men's joints, e.g. Purr, the Cuff, and Pony, might be a better option.
  • The Merc on Pride didn't suck. [livejournal.com profile] seelenschwester did a Lambert House benefit, which is of course dear to my heart. But I'm a regular at the Merc, so it seems somehow un-Pridelike.
  • If I'm going to take a lady friend home, it needs to be well before midnight. I'm too old to stay awake otherwise.
  • For heavens sake, mass transit from the Hill is useless after 0030.




*Our waiter was a chatty beardo, and the food was oh so hip & hipster. But damn, it was good, and the price wasn't out of line. I'm so conflicted when I eat at places like that.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
After Friday night's unexpected shenanigans, I did the only sane thing and slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon in preparation for last night's date with the Tickler. It was lovely: dinner at Plum - perfect for the Tickler's numerous and serious dietary restrictions - followed by the Merc. She'd never been there before, and was pleased with the nice boozes and A/C. I wish the crowd had been larger and freakier for her; she seemed a bit disappointed about that.

But that was nothing compared to the disappointment I was about to hand her. I hit the wall around midnight, yawning like a really yawn-y thing. We went back to chez Tickler, cuddled, petted her pervy incestuous gay cats, and slept some mighty sleep, but that was pretty much it. She was a good sport about it, but I know she had grand plans. I promised to do better next time.
Didn't get home today until 1300, so no morning bike ride. Decided to walk around Green Lake instead, and was rewarded with an abundance of sweet young things wearing not much. I'd forgotten about that aspect of warm weather because I'm usually doing my lake thing in the morning.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Three days between updates is long for me, but once again I got a bit busy.

Friday: Worked late, snarfed kid, felt woozy from crud, collapsed in bed and slept for nine hours.

Saturday: Spent some of that cash I've come into lately: Replaced the gladiator sandals I trashed last year, got the 100K service on the Sanctimobile, and picked up a large, black Lelo Smart Wand. I have yet to truly put that last to the test. For the sake of my right hand and my son's sleep, I hope it does the trick. So hey, it was all stuff I needed, more or less.

Had dinner for the first time in a while with the Siberian Siren. She's been working like a fiend on her real estate venture; it may have been the least sexy dinner with her ever, but that's still not bad. She had this to say about using the money coming to me to buy a residence: don't, for at least a couple of years. The market around here is too hot right now. I think I'll have an easy time following that advice.

The SS also had a... disturbing take on my son's punkitude. She thinks I need to put the "fear of Jesus"* into my son; from her, she points out, threats to send children to Siberia aren't idle. As hair-tearingly frustrated as I am with the Wendling, I'm philosophically opposed to fear-based parenting. For now.

Went to one of the Hot Flash Inferno nights, and ran into fellow trans woman M, whom I saw a fair amount of when I first started living as a woman. Her career is in the dumps, her love life isn't happening, and she's in her sixties now. I'm kinda fuckin' terrified that she is my future.

So I left early for the Merc, which wasn't as lively as I might have hoped. At least I got to raise my spirits by scratching a lovely lady, good and hard, as well has her boyfriends. Hat tip to [livejournal.com profile] seelenschwester for playing CHVRCHES at the Merc.

Today: Napped. Found excuses to walk in the glorious sunshine. Dreading trying to find space in my little lake place for all of my son's stuff after dinner, which I now need to cook.



*You'd never guess the SS isn't a native speaker of English until she gets a rare idiom not quite right.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
I didn't really feel like going out on Friday, but the TAOist had asked me if I was going to the Merc. I showed up, and for some mysterious reason - warmer weather, maybe? - the joint was jumping. I saw [livejournal.com profile] coulrophobe for the first time in three years at least. The TAOist was there with a man from Kansas (hence his looking like a fish out of water) to whom we did give a brief little show of the sort straight boys love on my way out the door. Ahem.
Last night was my company's holiday party. It's always a nice gathering, with classy food & booze at Sazerac and everybody looking their best. I introduced Temptress to as many of the company queers as I could find, and as we did at Pride we enjoyed the (ahem) scenery together. We slow danced.

Mental note #1: Get some new hose that I can wear to non-freak events. I discovered as I was getting dressed that I'd run my last two pairs of hose that worked with the dress, leaving fishnets with holes. Temptress said punk was better than bare-legged, so I went with that.

Mental note #2: Temptress does not like eggs for breakfast. Who knew? And I bought them just for her.
Had lunch with a fabulously dressed Siberian Siren at Pettirossa today. Tasty & inventive food, good service, and like anywhere that's open for brunch on the Hill, mobbed. It's across the street from the Wildrose and a block from the Merc.

Best dating metaphor ever, courtesy of the SS: when you have some success at dating, other potentially dateable women pick up the trail of pheromones "like ants".

The Siren twisted my arm (Oh noes!) into a little a little shopping at Red Light, which is closing its Broadway location. The U-District store will stay, but it's one more depressing sign of the gentrification of Capitol Hill. The SS, who has a professional interest in real estate, talked with the staff at length about the situation. Bottom line: their customers are getting priced out of the neighborhood, and Red Light isn't a destination on its own. Dammit!
sistawendy: (dolly)
M'boy & I delivered a spare 24-lb. turkey (long story) from the old place to Jewish Family Services in Seattle. Afterward, the Wendling wanted to drive to What the Pho in Bellevue, the best pho joint in 425-land, for lunch. He'd never experienced crazed consumers on their way to the overgrown & overpriced Bellevue Square mall on Black Friday before. It made for exciting driving. Poor kid.

You don't have to be in such a mall to hate humanity on Black Friday, just near one. The suck extends for several blocks in all directions.
Traditional Buy Nothing Day nibbles with grad school chums. I increasingly feel as if they're grown-ups, talking about their children's educations and the like, and I'm not. (I should probably be grateful they're not talking about options & real estate anymore.) It... kind of freaks me out. I have a vague memory of being like that, but I don't want to be anymore.
I went to [livejournal.com profile] inkandalchemy's new Twisted fetish night at the Merc. Tunes? Right on, thanks to her. Eye candy? But of course. Crowd? Could have been bigger, but it's a new night and the weather didn't cooperate. Flirted outrageously with a certain tall, athletic, and wholesome-looking lady, which was quite yay.

Shallow fashion details: black leather thigh high boots, black leather pencil skirt, black satin underbust corset, black leather opera gloves, and black electrical tape on my nipples, dammit.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Without really seeking to do so, I appear to have made plans for Thanksgiving that make up for missing out on most of Halloween. Der Plan:

Thursday dinner - Goth orphans old friends. I will be making you all eat your vegetables.
Thursday night - Funny Lady texted me and said she et al. have a tradition of dancing Thanksgiving dinner off at Re-bar. She mentioned that some of her queer girlfriends will be there. I'll be there in something cute.
Friday morning - Something with m'boy.
Friday afternoon - Nibbles & chats with grad school chums.
Friday evening - The new fetish night at the Merc, Twisted, organized by the fabulous [livejournal.com profile] inkandalchemy. Temptress will be there with me.
Saturday afternoon - Eats with my son.
Saturday evening - House deity Mark Farina is playing the Monkey Loft.
Sunday - Collapse. Do my Haskell homework.
StartupCo has an annual dress-up day. I'm wearing a green velvet off-the-shoulder dress, my Gothest jewelry, Fluevogs (my pumps were wrecked), and seamed stockings. Worship me.
sistawendy: (lizzy)
I found myself with a free Friday night, and as so often on such nights, ended up at the Mercury. There was a sizable crowd there early on because a (the?) local poly organization, NSPP, was having a little gathering there. By little I mean they took up half the joint. That's fine with me.

What's not fine with me is what I heard from one of the organizers of this shindig, D. Background: the elevated middle of the Merc is the best place to see and be seen in the establishment, especially what old schoolers used to call the cool kids' table, the one with the L-shaped booth seating. I remarked to D that it was odd that her group wasn't there. She said that was where they used to sit, occasionally wearing electrical tape on their nipples and making out. Motherhood and apple pie at the Merc, right? Well, they started getting attitude from other patrons. (The staff, to its credit, doesn't give a damn as long as you don't leave bodily fluids lying around.)

The nerve of them! Engaging in and watching that kind of behavior is why people go - or at least went - to the Merc. With condos mushrooming on most blocks surrounding the Merc, I cherish that goofy, freaky, tacky, louche, trans-friendly, and yes, a little sexy relic of Seattle's wilder past. How dare they stick their prudery like a cheap, phthalate-smelling dildo into one of the last places in the city where it doesn't belong?

I did see one instance of electrical tape on nipples last night. That made me feel a little better. Now that I have reasonaboobs I might just do that myself, and strike a much-needed blow against gentrification.
sistawendy: (dolly)
There was a time when I went to the Mercury every weekend, or so it seemed, but I hadn't been in months. Hence it merits a post.

There's lots of new furniture in there since the last time I posted. I can't help but wonder how they paid for it. [livejournal.com profile] seelenschwester still spins a righteous set and they still know how to pour absinthe. But it was a little slow - easily explained by the weather - and I knew only one person there.

In fact, the median age of the patrons has, if anything, fallen. That's wonderful for the Merc, but rather less so for the old guard. (And yes, I know how hilarious it is that I can pass for old guard these days. I regaled a few twenty-somethings with second hand tales of Pioneer Square in the '90s.) The whole place seems to be somehow cleaner & shinier than it's ever been, just like the rest of Capitol Hill. I don't want to sound like a hipster by saying it's over, and I want to believe it even less. Maybe I'm what's over.

And damn the Merc staff for playing Logan's Run followed by THX 1138. How do they expect me not to get sucked in?

Oh: I've lost enough weight recently that my ten-year old corsets fit better than they have in ages. Go me!

I bounced at midnight - hey, I'd shown up at opening time - and wandered the neighboring blocks. Capitol Hill is my spiritual home, after all. It's curious to see a line out the door at the Wildrose, because it's so very dead on weeknights and sometimes even on weekends. (Maybe my Flowering scared away the cis dykes.) I got a few curious looks from women in line as I swanned by in my Goth finery & Fluevog heels. Then I went past Q, two blocks away and around the corner, with its gorgeously spendy bleeding-edge interior and sound system and my Secret Vice music. Lots of pretty people, but the frat vibe made me jittery. Someday I'm going to have go in there Gothed up and preferably not alone. That place needs some weird.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
Walked around Green Lake to catch a 16 to my hair appointment with [livejournal.com profile] razorbits. Saw an elderly Chinese fellow slapping himself on various parts of his body and stretching in what appeared to be a studied way. A kind of tai chi with which I'm unfamiliar? I didn't feel like asking him, "Excuse me, sir, but why are you slapping yourself?" Life in the big city. Viva Metro for getting me there on time, more or less, and of course, viva [livejournal.com profile] razorbits for giving me a bitchin' 'do.

Dropped off cowboy boots at Swanson's. I have to get them resoled so I can wear them on the playa for a week and really trash them.

Took the 44 to the 49 to Atomic Cosmetics inside Retail Therapy on the Hill with the Siberian Siren. We were there because I'd lamented to the Siren that I had no lipsticks that I really liked. They do have some nice shades, and they were making a batch of one - Jinx'd - that I really liked, so I had to go back for it.

The SS took me to a phở joint, Ballet, that I'd walked past a zillion times but never noticed; she'd been morphing into a pork chop before my eyes. Yes to the seitan phở and otherwise nice food & service, but no to the sugar in the broth. WTF?

The Siren had to go to a (gay!) wedding later that afternoon, and she couldn't find anything to wear in her zillions of rack feet of closets. This meant an emergency speed-shopping trip to Crossroads. I got to hold her half dozen candidates, zip her into them, and then play critic. Her taste tends toward the form-fitting, and what a form she has. Oh my. She doesn't fear sheer, either. Quote of the day: "Now the whole store knows my underwear is polka-dotted." From the wedding she texted me that Sen. Patty Murray showed up.

Hit Blick art supplies. I have a small plan for Burning Man, oh yes.

Dogsat both Bigpuppy and Mr. Right Now's dog. I'm proud of myself for preventing them from eating dirt. Don't tell Aspiring Ex that I didn't walk them, though. Controlling two dogs with scraped-up hands didn't sound fun.

Hit the Mercury for the first time in a while. Some of the things I loved about the Merc are gone: the painting by Victor, the razor wire on the DJ booth. Aw. And somebody needs to paint those new shelves behind the bar. You can't have natural pale wood in the Mercury! It's still a good place to drink and talk to freaks you know, though.

Speaking of freaks, I was taking a load off when another trans woman invited me to her table with her (trans) girlfriend. Mostly out of a feeling of solidarity, I accepted. I may be going to trans hell for thinking their visual & vocal presentation a bit bizarre, even by the high standards of trans people at the Mercury.

Walked over to ETG, where the Siren & her exhausted girlfriend bagged on me. The Shameless crew came through with some nice grooves, though, so I stayed until I wore out, i.e. shortly after 1:00.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Several of you had for years recommended the Lucifer's Lounge, the lounge and swing night at the Mercury. I put it off and put it off, until the last one ever rolled around last night. To my delight (and slight chagrin because I was in my work clothes), nearly everyone dressed for it: lots of 40's- and 50's-inspired clothes. The music was exactly as advertised and not really what I'd seek out ordinarily, but damn, I saw people I hadn't seen in years. I got my social on in a huge way. Yeah, I'm regretting not going earlier, and missing the Cheers-in-black that was (is?) the Mercury.

My other reason for being on the Hill was around the corner from the Merc: Simian Mobile Disco played Neumo's with its fabulous sound system. I missed SMD the last time they were in down, and I was determined not to do so twice in a row. I was not disappointed.

SMD is pretty close to the sweet spot on the fun vs. respectability curve. They lack the classicism and structure of Orbital that I love so much, but they make up for it with mix mastery and beat-driven goodness. I've heard SMD described as "bug music" because of their occasional glitchiness. I'd call it "music for bugs who want to bop 'til they drop".

The first half of their set was taken predominantly from an earlier album, Attack Decay Sustain Release. If you don't have that, get it. The second half was their latest album, the more abstract Unpatterns. I loved all of it. I can't be the only one in the crowd who detected a nod to Daft Punk in the long accelerando at the end of their encore, "I Believe".

In the grandest techno tradition, our two heroes from England were facing about 135° away from the audience. The lighting could best be described as evil: eight LED arrays usually strobing, and at times painfully bright and rendering the performers invisible from a distance. It all worked together, though.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
...looking at my reflection in the lovely black-velvet-and-purple mopeygoth dress that I bought from [livejournal.com profile] krypt_kitten so long ago, and realizing that my breasts look plausible all by themselves. It's OK if they stop growing.

...being able to talk about the kinds of things I talk about here with a co-worker & his wife at the Merc.

...[livejournal.com profile] seelenschwester all femmed up. Oh my!

...being able to go to Sunset Hill Park, near the first place I lived with Nibs, and take in the view of Puget Sound without crying.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Had a long, lovely evening at the Merc with [livejournal.com profile] rigel_p. It kills me that she lives so far away.
My phone is dead, Jim. I was in the middle of unlocking it last night after I got home when the phone refused to believe that I'd stopped pressing one of the numbers on the screen. Then it refused to respond to any touch at all. I'm draining the battery in the desperate hope that a reboot will fix it. I do not want to lose what on that phone, mainly pics.

ETA: Popping the battery out did the trick duh. Nibs had to remind me to try that. I'm so used to iPods, which don't let you do that.
Gonna be a PTA DB monkey in 20 minutes. Mabye gonna be a Lambert House DB monkey again this weekend. Ook!
2011 was arguably the best year of my life. I'm left wondering if I'll ever improve on it. I've got some gnarly life problems to deal with in the near future, but I think there's plenty of room for improvement. It's even possible that my solutions to the gnarly stuff can be part of that improvement.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
First the bad news: Strawberry Blond Sister prevailed upon her husband to block my number. As my shrink and my mom both pointed out, he lives with her, so what's he gonna do? Luckily, I have her neighbors' number in case of emergency.
Now the good news: I spent a lovely evening at Strict Machine at the Merc with [livejournal.com profile] victorianpirate. Interesting (ahem) visual entertainment - official, even. It feels good to goth up and watch the eye candy stroll by, especially on a weeknight, and especially when you've been imprisoned in your house two weekends in a row by fuzz on your face. I'm not even incapacitated.
I sugared my legs for the first time last night. It was time consuming and left some red bumps, but it does seem to be quite effective. We'll see how long it lasts.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
Last night was the return of club hopping on the Hill, which of course involves [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth and her Stunt Husband.

Took advantage of the gorgeous weather to go strolling around Gas Works Park and vicinity. (Yeah, I looked for the throwies, but they must have been removed.) It turns out there are a couple of small, semi-private venues where in the past some rather nice techno events had been held.

One of them is now covered with stern signs. As I walked up to it, a young man pulled up in a pickup and got out with a guitar in a gig bag slung over his back. We got to talking, and I mentioned why I'd been there in the past. He said there's going to be a reopening on July 4th. Yay!

The other place was a rented commercial space a couple of blocks away. This place had some nice vibes and Buddhist-inspired eyes painted on the door. The eyes are gone, and the place seems to be completely vacant and shuttered. Indeed, there are for-lease signs all over Fremont still.

Yeah, since I was in the neighborhood, I drove past the Blue House too. It seems to be just another rental now.

Why do I feel an urge to put some place on the mental map of others and keep it there?
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
You know how at the Merc there are always those two tacky girls who can't keep their hands, etc. off each other? The ones [livejournal.com profile] imflying told me she wants to kick for giving queer girls a bad name? Well, I was one of them last night. Je ne regrette rien.

Thanks to my Burning Man carpool buddies [livejournal.com profile] ack_yeahright and hubby J for making the introduction. I did ask them to bring the debauchery to J's birthday celebration.

Hey, I so had this coming. I will of course keep you abreast of further developments, which I'm given to understand are more likely than I would have guessed.

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