sistawendy: (wtf laughing)
I am wearing long sleeves, a high collar, leggings, wool blend socks, and a long, heavy skirt in complete comfort in the middle of June. Ah, Seattle.

The weather was so lovely on Sunday that I walked about five miles to get stuff (water treatment tablets, a parking pass) for Critical. That was in addition to my usual six miles of biking. I slept really well that night, which leads me to the unwelcome conclusion that if I want to sleep adequately, I need to exercise like a mofo. I'd be fine with that if it weren't so time-consuming.

Speaking of Critical, I started drying food last night. I'm relieved that I'm only spending four nights there - less drying needed - even if that'll make it harder to find a place to pitch my tent. I have to say, though, that I'm not feeling nearly as psyched as I do for a Burn. If I'm lucky, lower expectations will enhance the experience.

Something about driving far into the desert feels like a pilgrimage to me. I kind of feel sorry for the people who approach from the south, i.e. most of them; it's more crowded.
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
I paid the yuppie scum price for a ticket to Critical, the regional Burning Man event in Washington state. I figured that since I dithered so long, I deserved to pay more.

And why did I dither? The last time I went, in '12, I had an OK time, but it just didn't compare to The Thing In The Desert, which I've been to twice thrice since then. But I need a vacation; even my boss noticed. And Critical now has an orgy dome, I hear. So I shall go, not for the full week, and with expectations set appropriately low, which means it probably won't suck.

I've taken my epic Burning Man packing spreadsheet, made a less epic Critical spreadsheet, and annotated all the stuff I need to buy between now & July. It's manageable.
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: (Burning Man wings)
Happiness is short-notice drinks at Cyclops with a couple of Beavers, i.e. women from Camp Beaverton, one of whom has family in the area. I can't believe I hadn't told them the story of the Blond Angel; don't I tell everyone that one?

But because I got there an hour early on the bus, I decided to kill time by picking up a favorite lipstick* at Nordie's. I end up walking with a good-sized group of young women - girls, arguably - about half of whom are hijabis and all of whom are speaking, I think, Arabic to each other. It turned out we had the same destination. It was one of those rare occasions when I regretted that my natural walking speed is faster than almost everyone else's. What would they have thought if I'd told them that I, a lone trans woman, had their back?

Oh and speaking of the potential for running into Nazis, I got around to practicing with my pepper spray. It's on my keychain now.

To do tomorrow: letters to electors. Yeah, I've been slacking off over Thanksgiving weekend, which you could say is insane under the circumstances, but I kinda needed it. And hey, if I'm going to use the printer at work downtown as planned, parking is free there tomorrow. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

To do tonight: dinner & dancing with the Tickler!



*MAC, Viva Glam
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
SEAF Seduction with the Tickler was all about the eye candy, and running into friends I haven't seen in many years.

Best visual pun: Barebacking/Bearbacking. I'll just leave that there for your imagination. There was o group of four fabulously gay X-Men. [livejournal.com profile] gement's sister Sparky was there as an incongruously sexy Spider Queen. There was an adorable contortionist - a friend of the Tickler, natch - doing a messy food scene with a couple of less flexible colleagues. The Tickler and I agree that we need to ascertain the contortionist's sexual orientation because ahem.

Oh: Sparky's Burning Man theme camp was, among other orgs, tending bar as a fund raiser. Camp Beaverton needs to get in on that action. It's a pity I neither knew that was an option nor have my class 12 (WA bartender's license) anymore.

DJs: surprisingly good! The one I remember hearing was Fabulous Fab. I don't think we stayed long enough for Kristina Childs, but I know she can bring it. Yeah, I was grooving to the techno while other people were watching all the sexy. I can't help it: I'm a slave to the rave.

There was a young trans woman, D, who I met during my Microsoft days who was there with her sweetie. When I last saw her she hadn't yet transitioned, and now she's doing really well. Happy-making.

The Tickler and I ran out of gas around midnight. Darn this middle age business. My shoes didn't help, and it occurs to me today that among my recent Fluevog purchases is a pair that would be more comfortable and just as good with the outfit as the ones I've been wearing for the last couple of days. D'oh!

Tonight: a brief stop in costume at the Baltic Room to bat my eyelashes at Gnome. It's raining and my costume is silk, dammit.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
If any of you are stalking me, you might remember that I have my fiftieth birthday coming up in not quite fifteen months. I will, of course, throw a party and throw it good and hard. But I have to have something... fitting to wear.

Which brings me to last weekend, when I was hanging out at [livejournal.com profile] ionan and J's. J, who's a bona fide fashionista, and I got to talking about clothes we really want, when I remembered that I've never owned a proper leather corset (i.e. one not made from the shafts of 20-eyelet Doc Martens). I've also pined for something from Dark Garden in San Francisco for, well, ever. I even made a pilgrimage to their shop once, sneaking down there on foot during a visit to Exmother.

The thing is, for something custom like this, they prefer to do a fitting in person. Oh, no, I might have to go down to San Francisco! And to give them enough lead time to make it for my birthday, I'd have to show up no later than, say, the Folsom Street Fair, which has also been on my bucket list for, well, ever.

Another thing is, Folsom is a week or two after Burning Man. If I do Folsom, that pretty much means I'll have neither time nor money for next year's Burn. But given how Seinfeldian this year's Burn was for me, to tell you the truth I've almost been looking for an excuse not to go next year.

Yes, I know about Marie Pavey and One Wilde Knight, both of whom do custom work in Seattle. (The latter of whom, however, once expressed boredom with working in black leather.) I've seen their work, I've worn it, and it's fabulous, but. Folsom! Dark Garden! If I can't have Ms. Right in time for my birthday, I can have The Right Corset.

I'm tempted to put up a poll, but not this time. If you've got something to say about this, say it long form.

Good grief, what am I going to do for a venue? That I may need to nail down a year in advance, given what demand is like in this town. Stay tuned.
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
Well, shoot. I forgot to upload any pics from Burning Man! I'm a rotten photographer, but the Burn is the proverbial barrel full of fish.

Pics! )

Words, posted last month.
sistawendy: (dolly)
The work week was harrowing enough that I had a serious social jones despite the predicted foul weather all weekend. After a brief but happy stop at [livejournal.com profile] ionan & J's - fashionista J is giving me ideas about what to wear to my 50th birthday party in 15 months - I hit the Merc, somewhat underdressed for the theme they had going, but still wearing something decently Victorian-esque*. I met a lady. She's almost exactly my age. She's cute. She's OK with snogging girls**. I shall call her Gnome for a reason known only to me. We have a mutual friend. She asked for my number. I think I shall pursue this.

I went to the party for the Polegasm and Conception theme camps last night because Grenade invited me and I (ahem) really wanted to see her again. It was a lovely little Burner party in a venue that had somehow escaped my notice: the Fremont Abbey, a former church that is now a performing art and events space. Alas, I ran out of gas before midnight and jumped on a 5 home, only to find out that Grenade had arrived shortly after I left. Murphy's Law, ne?

Today: enough sleep, a 90-minute zappy session that got everything***, and laundry of course.



*Long black steampunky skirt from Mishu, fitted black high-collared blouse from [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth? It was, to tell you the truth, the same thing I wore to work on Tuesday. I kept telling people that was a secret.
**And by girls I mean yours truly. Duh.
***Yay!
sistawendy: (stern nun)
I spent all afternoon Saturday & Sunday cleaning, drying, and stowing all my playa clothes and camping gear. My sleeping bag needs a trip to a laundromat; it's too big to fit in the usual size of washing machine. The Wendling got my car washed because, as the one driving it, he thought it would be a good idea if he could see out of it. I'm proud of him. It's still dusty on the inside, though.

I did find time to tell tales to the Siberian Siren at Witness, which of course ran late. Did you know the owner of Witness delivers a sermon of sorts on Saturday nights? I didn't. The clams & sausage there are fantastic. And I knew the SS was a regular at witness, but sheesh, they treat her like the tsarevna she is. Last night: [livejournal.com profile] ionan & J at Thaiku. Since those two are (former?) Burners, they get my stories better than most.

Dating? Kind of happening. The woman I had such a good time with at the Merc a few weeks back says she's in a relationship now. (?!) Much Younger Woman can fit me in for dinner, though, and there's not-officially-a-date-but-I'm-not-entirely-sure-anymore with Funny Lady.
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
Everything is coming together for the Burn in that magic, synchronistic way that usually happens on playa. Well, it's coming together in my apartment. I'm still a bit behind schedule in stuffing it into bins and loading it into the Sanctimobile. But I only have, oh, 120 more items left to pack? I'm not planning on panicking, though, until after dinner tonight. M'boy & I have to go out because - you guessed it - the dining table and the floor underneath it are covered with bins & gear.

Speaking of the Wendling, he is right now at the home of his maternal grandfather, Exdad. Exdad has had a couple of transient ischemic attacks, and he's got some bleeding in his brain for which he has surgery scheduled next month. Ex sent our son over there to make sure he's OK. M'boy says he's moving & talking a little more slowly than usual, but I gather the difference isn't drastic. I wish Exdad all the luck. He was always one of my kinder in-laws, and I can tell that Ex is worried sick about him. (I haven't heard from Exbro in a while, but it's safe to assume that he's worried too, and unlike Ex, he's too far away to help.)

This is Hot Pink, signing off until after Labor Day.
sistawendy: (Burning Man wings)
Leg waxing & shellac manicure: check. Gotta have hot pink playa-proof nails, duh.
Dreads & braids: tomorrow afternoon, all of it, and then some.
Feverish packing: starting tomorrow night. Good thing the kiddo works then.
Freakout: probably starting tomorrow night.

I think I have places to put all the bins in my apartment before I load. I think.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
I accepted a short-notice but important-looking meeting invitation at work this morning. I forgot about it by lunchtime, when it happened. Luckily, my temporary boss reminded me. And oh by the way, the meeting conflicted with monthly queer lunch. One of the folks that got laid off showed up for it, so now I feel kind of terrible for not staying on top of it.

I think I'm mentally halfway to the playa already, and not a minute too soon. I've bought all the stuff I can buy, printed all the stuff I want to print, and I'll spend the weekend packing. Hmm. I can't pack & load clothes until I do laundry, and I'll be spending the weekend with my son, getting beautified, or with the Tickler, so that means no sooner than Monday night. Der Plan is to hit the road Wednesday ASAP.
sistawendy: (blue corset)
Long time no type. I haven't been in a funk; I just didn't have anything I considered post-worthy until yesterday.

28% of StartupCo got laid off yesterday morning. I was not among those laid off.

StartupCo's founder, product wizard, and ex-CEO is on vacation overseas. That's probably for the best; he seems like the kind of guy for whom delivering that kind of news could be lethal. As it was, our current CEO made it most of the way through her 25-minute talk without crying. Most of the way.

The shape of the layoffs, product mix changes, and other strategic decisions seem tailored to please investors. They're good business decisions, at least in the short- to medium-term, but I worry about our distinctiveness as a company. See the founder above.

I did a little mental arithmetic: of the eight of us who'd ever shown up to more-or-less-monthly queer lunch, three are gone, including the organizer. That's a mantle I will gladly accept. One of those laid off says our executive team is now whiter and more male than ever. Le sigh.

I think I may be the only person in the company who got real work done yesterday, pushing a commit at 1645 and handling a production issue at about 2200. In between those two times there was much beer consumption at Linda's, then dancing to some righteous tunes at Jacob London's record release party on the roof of the Monkey Loft while the sun set, until the nachos from Linda's disagreed with me.

Fun fact #1: Half of Jacob London is trans. I was honored a few years back when Hanssen asked me to have coffee & talk about how very much we have in common. They (Hanssen) usually make a point of talking to me at their shows. I snarfed their latest EP last week because I heard a song from it on KEXP and it was dope; see this post's music.

Fun fact #2: The Monkey Loft is about seven blocks from the nearest light rail station, Sodo. Now I'm sure I've used every light rail station. A young woman in a fabulous yellow '50s retro sundress who got off at Sodo with some swoopy-haired, gay-looking boyfriends, asked me if I was going to the Monkey Loft like them on account of looking "all fancy"*. I'm amused that the hipster kids had the same idea I did and took the train; I hope that doesn't dent its popularity.

Fun fact #3: One of the Beavers, 2013's mayor and dapper, dyke magnet Foxy, needed proof of a name change resulting from divorce. The trouble is, she lives in Oakland, CA and the divorce happened in Seattle. As luck would have it, StartupCo is just five blocks (i.e. one light rail stop) away from the court house that I recently spent so much time in. Ba da boom, ba da bing, I FedExed her a certified copy of her divorce decree. She thanked me profusely and asked what she can do for me. Evil laughter ensued.



*SFDs: purple company t-shirt, mostly-purple Bombsheller leggings, Fluevog Half-Truth Alisons, MAC makeup. A pretty normal work outfit for me.
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: (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.

fig facts

Jul. 26th, 2016 01:40 pm
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
Quartered figs take around thirteen hours at 58 C (135°F) to dry sufficiently, but Oh Em Gee are they tasty! And since I left the skins on them, there should be plenty of fiber in them, which will be good to have on the playa. What started as about a gallon of fresh, intact figs is now a about a quart of dried fig quarters.

Better yet, since Ex has taken off on a cruise to Alaska with her mother (Madness!) she wants me to take back most of what I thought was her half of the figs I picked. I told m'boy, who's dog-sitting for Ex, thad I'd check up on him tonight anyway. Perfect!

I may be able to give people on the playa dried figs instead of breath-destroying dried fish. Or should I give them a choice? Hmm! "Dried figs or dried fish?" I like that!

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: (Burning Man wings)
Things I've done to prepare for Burning Man this weekend:
  • Relearn how to pitch check my tent - ✓
  • Inflate & deflate my air mattress to check for leaks - ✓
  • Inflate & deflate all spare bike tubes - ✓
  • Hit a yard sale hosted by the youngest woman I've ever dated, buy a leotard, and mutilate it for a top - ✓
  • Take in a couple of my slutty little skirts because I've lost weight since I last wore them - ✓
  • Hit Trendy Wendy for more tops & fishnets - ✓
To do: stitch EL wire to playa coat, and that'll be the last crafty bit I need to do.

Went dancing alone last night (All my ladies are either out of town or engaging in threesomes without me. *Sniffle*!) at the Monkey Loft. Tip top tunes courtesy of Riz and other locals. Met a cute, diminutive woman in a Trilby who acted as is she were rollin' hard. It was too dark for me to see her pupils. Talk about Burning Man prep.
My son is back in my apartment. I thought I had to pick him up at work tonight, so I texted him yesterday to ask when he needed me there. He didn't answer, natch. Imagine my surprise when he showed up about an hour before I was planning on leaving. He'd texted me about half an hour earlier, which I didn't hear. He says I'm just as bad about not checking texts as he is.

No jury would convict me. At least this time he told me I didn't need to drive before I started driving, which represents progress, believe it or not.
I finally got around to watching Wild at Heart. Lynch does a Hollywood movie, as only he could. It made me yearn for the young Laura Dern a simpler time when silly freakiness & grossout could be seen as revolutionary, and could even actually change a few things for the better. You want freaky? Dern and I are about the same age.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Ordered electrolumincescent (EL) wire & bike blinkies from Seattle Lumin. I'm determined to be adequately lit up this year. They have local pickup a few blocks from the other side of Green Lake from where I live, and they got my order ready last night. Rode around the lake the long way. Picked up stuff. Got ready as usual, maybe even a little earlier than usual. Was an hour late to an important meeting because I didn't check my schedule first thing. Arg!

Speaking of last night, spent much of it at the Unicorn socializing with a queer Russian immigrant woman who is not the Siberian Siren. She's a little older than the SS, so she had tales of just how sick the Soviets could be. Good times. The Unicorn, by the way, has truffle popcorn, which is utter crack.

I guess my new Fluevog Truth Alisons are mine now: I blistered my feet walking all over the Hill & bled on them. I'll be bringing band-aids to Pride.

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