sistawendy: me in my nun costume looking stern (stern nun)
I found out yesterday that a local trans activist, Danny Askini, had per passport renewal denied because she didn't provide "proof of transition". Does this mean trans Americans can't re-enter the US after our passports expire? Mine expires in 2021. That may be a deadline for me now.

I'm freaked out, to say the least. The above is only the latest. I've gotten less than five hours of sleep at least three nights this week; I can't remember how many because - wait for it - insomnia is trashing my memory. I repeat: I'll be protesting today at 11:00 down at the federal detention center in SeaTac. I'm not feeling that great physically, but if I don't go I won't feel so hot emotionally.

Work? Sucky, and it's partly my fault.

The one bright spot in all this was that I finally got to see the Tickler in a burlesque show. The theme? Insects, from butterflies to turd rollers. One man ("boylesque") who's an ace costumer even did a crab routine. I was hoping I'd get to see the Tickler's praying mantis act, but somebody else had one that night, so she did a scale insect. It was... arty, kinky in unexpected ways, and not like her usual comedy at all. I didn't hang out with her after the show or go to her place because I was just too beat. Out of the ten or so burlesquers, I liked about half.
sistawendy: me in the Mercury's alley with the wind catching my hair (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
This is another one of those entries that got delayed because I was doing too much.

Party #1: My employer's annual marketing conference always ends with a big party. And marketers are notorious, at least among engineers, for how much alcohol they put away. Such social. Very booze. Wow. I spent much of the evening with a devastatingly attractive & stylish straight woman with cute queer hair from NYC; she was that cool.

Strippers, etc.: I'd kind of felt guilty about not going to any of the Tickler's burlesque shows, so without really being invited I met her at the Debauchery night at Neighbours. It was to be the last one after six years of monthly nights of queer, non-profit "stripping", as the MC and producer put it. She was verklempt pretty often. The Tickler had performed at that night and knew everyone, but she was in the audience with me that night.

Maybe my attitude toward it was colored by running on four hours' sleep from the previous night, but as expected, it didn't knock my socks off. There were a couple of performers that I really liked - one of them reminded me of Opium, serial "winner" of Bang for the Buck - but the rest I could have happily missed. And yes, super queer, super gender-fucky, and body positive. The good news for fans is that a new night, Queers Queers Queers, will start up next month with a different producer.

After the show, the Tickler & I hit Molly Moon's for ice cream for her approximate birthday. Then she drove me home, for which I sincerely promised to give her endless head. On the way home around 2330, I got a text from Ex saying that my ex-stepmother K had broken her foot and was in a hospital in Redmond. Since I was the only one with a car, could I please take her home?

Le sigh. So I drove out, still in my red satin party dress and killer 'Vogs, and got K around 0100. She was dizzy & nauseated from the drugs they gave her, and narrowly missed my car with her barf. If you'll recall, she's a bit of a hoarder, which meant I couldn't find the walker she insisted was in her garage full of junk, just crutches. I must have taken half an hour to get her the forty feet from my car to her house. I made it home just after 0200. Ex, Exbrother (who had to fly up from CA again), and Mr. Right Now (who's married to somebody other than Ex and therefore eligible for serious karma) took over from there. K's own kids are out of state, but I think they're getting in on the action, too.

I took yesterday off because zombie, except for the monthly queer lunch at work for which I'm the organizatrix. Then party #2 at Diminutive's* charmingly 1950s house way up in the north end. I was pleasantly surprised by the number of pretty, Goth AF, and maybe kinda sorta queer women - I'm never really sure about Diminutive & her friends - many of whom remembered me better than I remembered them. Do they remember me because I'm trans or do I fail to remember them because Diminutive & friends can be relied upon for quantity & quality of alcohol?

Enough wacky hijinks for a while, I think.



*Diminutive's name is the diminutive form of mine. Also, she's tiny and I'm not. I love that.
sistawendy: me in C18-inspired makeup looking amused (amused eighteenthcent)
I went to the Young Lady in the Bowler's burlesque class graduation recital. I wasn't at all surprised to see her as the only drag king in the class, with a "story" all about the temptations of femininity. I could relate. Drag kings aren't generally my thing, but her natural adorability won out.

A shoutout to [livejournal.com profile] fullcontactmuse for giving me a seat at her table up front. It's a pity I didn't get there early enough to be up front for the YLB; I was late because of - wait for it - work.

We went out to the Elysian afterward with some of her school chums - she with her handlebar mustache still firmly attached. I did get about two minutes alone with her to at least tell her that I thought I'd scared her off. Evidently that hasn't happened: she'd like a Merc membership, and I'm ideally placed to help her get it.

The weather here is perfect, and my work crisis is over. Goldiebike is going to get some miles put on her today. I might even go out in public in cute little yoga pants for the first time.
sistawendy: a head shot of me smiling, taken in front of Canlis for a 2021 KUOW article (Default)
In the space of 24 hours I went from Shiva's Queen Anne apartment to my house to my boss's mansion. That's a journey of about twenty miles in a more or less straight line eastward and maybe an order of magnitude in property value. Being reminded that I'm neither the richest nor the poorest person I know in such a short span of time is... unusual.

Well, I can check seeing a burlesque show off my list of things done. 'Sokay, and some of the dancers seemed to be pretty good, but I'd rather just be social. I'm pretty sure there was a time when my reaction would have been the other way around, but I don't miss it. Speaking of people at the show, VisionInBlack is yet another woman I'd really like to look like. Wah. She and her friends seemed surprised when I told them I had a wife and kiddy out in the 'burbs. I've come to enjoy doing that.

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sistawendy: a head shot of me smiling, taken in front of Canlis for a 2021 KUOW article (Default)
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