The day improved as it wore on.
I took yesterday off for circumflatulation, but was sabotaged by a faraway anonymous douchebag who didn't return the rental equipment I needed1. Then we had a major network outage at work, and despite my technically taking the day off, I helped deal with it because self-preservation.
So you can imagine my relief at getting dressed to dance2 and getting picked up by the Tickler for bougie Mexican just up the ridge from my place, girly drinks, tales of the Tickler's freaky exploits at Frolicon, and a lovely walk up & down Greenwood Ave. I'm pretty sure I've convinced her that Phinney is phabulous.
Then dancing at Substation. Righteous groove was had. It was a Uniting Souls3 night, and I saw people there in Dirtybird (SF) t-shirts. Wonderful things about queer dates:
Postscript: This morning was one of the very few mornings when my son was awake and dressed before I even rolled out of bed. He got treated to the site of me shuffling to the bathroom in my usual t-shirt and the aforementioned thong underwear. When asked, though, he said he wasn't traumatized. Whew. No, that happened a few days ago when I stepped outside the bathroom naked to turn the light on. Sorry, kiddo. Darn Seattle buildings and their placement of bathroom light switches.
1This is part of the motivation for my head-scratching about what to do with the spoils of my divorce.
2SFDs: '60s-esque psychedelic print skater dress from Zulily, gladiator sandals, all MAC makeup. Gold-toned jewelry to match the dress & sandals.
3Dude in charge: Ramiro Gutierrez.
4Unlike![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
staxxy, when I say "dirty hippies", I mean actual human dirty hippies who smell bad.
So you can imagine my relief at getting dressed to dance2 and getting picked up by the Tickler for bougie Mexican just up the ridge from my place, girly drinks, tales of the Tickler's freaky exploits at Frolicon, and a lovely walk up & down Greenwood Ave. I'm pretty sure I've convinced her that Phinney is phabulous.
Then dancing at Substation. Righteous groove was had. It was a Uniting Souls3 night, and I saw people there in Dirtybird (SF) t-shirts. Wonderful things about queer dates:
- You can be those tacky girls who make out and do mean things to each other on the dance floor.
- You can flash your bethonged butt at your date in the bathroom, no problem.
- You can be dirty old women together and ogle the cute girl in the tall boots & taller feather headdress, or the insanely hot tall, young Gothy brunette with the sexy dance moves. We followed her as she went outside to cool off at least once. "You think she knows we're checking her out?" asked the Tickler. "She must," I said.
Postscript: This morning was one of the very few mornings when my son was awake and dressed before I even rolled out of bed. He got treated to the site of me shuffling to the bathroom in my usual t-shirt and the aforementioned thong underwear. When asked, though, he said he wasn't traumatized. Whew. No, that happened a few days ago when I stepped outside the bathroom naked to turn the light on. Sorry, kiddo. Darn Seattle buildings and their placement of bathroom light switches.
1This is part of the motivation for my head-scratching about what to do with the spoils of my divorce.
2SFDs: '60s-esque psychedelic print skater dress from Zulily, gladiator sandals, all MAC makeup. Gold-toned jewelry to match the dress & sandals.
3Dude in charge: Ramiro Gutierrez.
4Unlike
staxxy, when I say "dirty hippies", I mean actual human dirty hippies who smell bad.