I did indeed don the red latex dress, my biggest black beaded choker, and – after agonizing via text – my black & silver booties from Irregular Choice. I went to the Wildrose and got a table with surprisingly little difficulty.
But medical issues claimed my companions for the evening one after the other. Funny Lady lives not far from the 'Rose, and messaged me about New Year's Day plans. I invited her to join me. She invited me to join her! So there! I accepted her offer.
That's right: I spent the evening in a fabulous outfit watching movies, etc. with Funny Lady, her husband, and a friend of theirs whose name I can't remember. You know that thing where married couples get kind of snippy with each other about trivial stuff? FL & P do that.
I also found out, after knowing her for all these years, that Funny Lady is the eleventy-third cis girlfriend I have who had an abusive boyfriend as a young woman. She said it partly explains why she left Paris for Berlin and then New York. There ought to be classes taught to teens to a) teach boys not to be shitty, and b) teach girls how to avoid and stop shitty boys. You'd probably run into resistance from shitty parents.
FL generously got me a ride share home so I wouldn't have to bug out early for the last (free!) train, which was nice. Pity I didn't get much more than five hours' sleep.
Thence to the Monkey Loft at about 1300. I almost couldn't get in because the cell phone tower was flaky, and my ticket was on my phone; I think I'll go back to being paranoid and printing tickets. OK, I did get to hear a little of Reggie Watts in a big, crowded ground floor room. (I was part of the masked minority.) And I went up to the roof to hang with the hippies in the intermittent sunshine.
Seen at the monkey loft: one full fur suit, one puppy hood with a Dance Safe logo on the back, one black corset, one corset in psychedelic colors. It seems to me that the kinksters are beginning their takeover of the house & techno scenes. You know I'm here for that.
Unfortunately, I didn't get enough sleep to really enjoy something that loud & crowded for more than a couple of hours, so I got on the bus and made sure that C's annual mellow goth gathering up in Greenwood was still going. It was, and that turned out to be much more what I needed right then. Back in the before times, C used to host an annual barbecue which was The Stuff, Baby. I hope she does again. Minor tragedy: Diminutive* was leaving just as I was arriving, looking stunning in her pair of my 50th birthday boots, a.k.a. Fluevog Atria. I did, however, meet a friend of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cupcake_goth's – again, the boots were the proof – with an antipodean accent and a truly impressive Victorian outfit. Yeah, she was there with a fella, dammit.
So my New Year's Eve & New Year's day weren't what I'd call complete successes, but I did salvage them a little. Potential plan for next year: stay home NYE, get fetishy at the Monkey Loft in the morning.
The new year looks to be a grind with respect to work, finances, and dating. There's no end in sight. I'd love to have my low expectations exceeded, but they're... low expectations.
I do, however, have a plan for the 7th: Com Truise was supposed to come to my neighborhood, but a hurricane kept him home. Saturday is when he'll try again. Mm, walkable bleepy goodness.
*Her first name is the diminutive form of my first name. I am tall and bulky. She is tiny in every dimension. This never fails to amuse me.
But medical issues claimed my companions for the evening one after the other. Funny Lady lives not far from the 'Rose, and messaged me about New Year's Day plans. I invited her to join me. She invited me to join her! So there! I accepted her offer.
That's right: I spent the evening in a fabulous outfit watching movies, etc. with Funny Lady, her husband, and a friend of theirs whose name I can't remember. You know that thing where married couples get kind of snippy with each other about trivial stuff? FL & P do that.
I also found out, after knowing her for all these years, that Funny Lady is the eleventy-third cis girlfriend I have who had an abusive boyfriend as a young woman. She said it partly explains why she left Paris for Berlin and then New York. There ought to be classes taught to teens to a) teach boys not to be shitty, and b) teach girls how to avoid and stop shitty boys. You'd probably run into resistance from shitty parents.
FL generously got me a ride share home so I wouldn't have to bug out early for the last (free!) train, which was nice. Pity I didn't get much more than five hours' sleep.
Thence to the Monkey Loft at about 1300. I almost couldn't get in because the cell phone tower was flaky, and my ticket was on my phone; I think I'll go back to being paranoid and printing tickets. OK, I did get to hear a little of Reggie Watts in a big, crowded ground floor room. (I was part of the masked minority.) And I went up to the roof to hang with the hippies in the intermittent sunshine.
Seen at the monkey loft: one full fur suit, one puppy hood with a Dance Safe logo on the back, one black corset, one corset in psychedelic colors. It seems to me that the kinksters are beginning their takeover of the house & techno scenes. You know I'm here for that.
Unfortunately, I didn't get enough sleep to really enjoy something that loud & crowded for more than a couple of hours, so I got on the bus and made sure that C's annual mellow goth gathering up in Greenwood was still going. It was, and that turned out to be much more what I needed right then. Back in the before times, C used to host an annual barbecue which was The Stuff, Baby. I hope she does again. Minor tragedy: Diminutive* was leaving just as I was arriving, looking stunning in her pair of my 50th birthday boots, a.k.a. Fluevog Atria. I did, however, meet a friend of
cupcake_goth's – again, the boots were the proof – with an antipodean accent and a truly impressive Victorian outfit. Yeah, she was there with a fella, dammit.So my New Year's Eve & New Year's day weren't what I'd call complete successes, but I did salvage them a little. Potential plan for next year: stay home NYE, get fetishy at the Monkey Loft in the morning.
The new year looks to be a grind with respect to work, finances, and dating. There's no end in sight. I'd love to have my low expectations exceeded, but they're... low expectations.
I do, however, have a plan for the 7th: Com Truise was supposed to come to my neighborhood, but a hurricane kept him home. Saturday is when he'll try again. Mm, walkable bleepy goodness.
*Her first name is the diminutive form of my first name. I am tall and bulky. She is tiny in every dimension. This never fails to amuse me.
