sistawendy | a field trip to Tacoma

On Friday evening I took the commuter train to Tacoma, where the Tickler and I went to the Church Cantina, Tacoma's official goth joint. I found that:

The Cuban food and drinks are right on!
The DJs, too, are right on.
The dance floor, however, is nonexistent. There isn't even a vestigial spot on the floor. In truth, such a spot would likely have been overwhelmed because the place was crowded despite its considerable size.
There were a few craft booths out front.
There were actual, factual Black people there, way more than you'd see at any goth gathering in Seattle. The Tickler says that's because Tacoma simply has a higher proportion of them.
They have a pool table, which is apparently common in goth joints.
Some Tacoma goths have style, some don't. Both geographically and fashionwise, Tacoma is somewhere between Seattle and Portland.
A group of about a half dozen young people dressed as gnomes showed up fairly late in the evening. Many cheered as they entered. That, folks, is Tacoma.

I spent much of Saturday at the Tickler's, playing with their cats and hanging out in their yard. I had to insist that we eat lunch, which the Tickler doesn't usually do. (?!) The deal was, they had a thing to go to late in the afternoon on Saturday, so I carpooled home with them.

Went to the Merc for A's birthday. I was surprised at how many people expressed, unprompted, displeasure at the presence of

jengalicious's ex. Surprised, but also pleased: every one knows how vile he is, as they ought to.

I thought I'd nap for maybe an hour this afternoon. I napped for three. I've done all my weekend chores. Happiness.