sistawendy: (butterfly)
I saw Wonder Woman with m'boy last night, and here's my capsule review: it lives up to the hype. The writing & direction in particular are right on. If you like superhero movies, you should see it. And I say that despite inexplicably not developing a raging crush on Gal Gadot, who does the difficult job of making an innocent, crusading Amazon princess with superpowers seem credible. And I give grudging props to Chris Pine as well.

But I read about (cisgender) women crying at the fight scenes featuring women and raving that this was the movie that they'd waited their whole lives for, and... I'm not feeling that. Sure, it's good, but if you weren't raised as a girl you don't get the extra dimension, at least not most of it. Yeah, it's one of those you're-not-woman-enough moments for me, and I can be reasonably certain that they won't stop until I do. When there's a biopic about Janet Mock*, though, I'll be emotionally all over that, and it'll be you cissies' turn to suck it.

*Yes, Jenny Boylan's story is much more similar to mine, and I think Boylan's a better writer, but Mock's Redefining Realness would make a way better movie.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Four days is a long time for me not to post. My excuse? Too much fun.

OK, Thursday night wasn't that fun because I spent it aggravating my carpal tunnel. Believe it or not, that isn't dirty.

But on Friday night, the Tickler & I went to the Upstream music festival, which is basically 300+ musical acts taking over a couple of dozen venues in Seattle's Pioneer Square. (This, by the way, is a canny move by Pioneer Square businesses. This area is one of the sketchiest in town, and can surely use some good publicity.) The festival itself? Worth the ticket price, in my opinion.

Here's the lowdown on the bands we saw:
  • Twin River from Vancouver - They were on a stage devoted to Canadian artists. They call themselves "garage pop", and that's pretty much what it is. They pulled me in the door by sounding a lot like Neko Case around '02, but then they got jangly & rocked out, which is fine with me.
  • Seattle's own Evening Bell. Their blurb was precious, describing their sound as "psychedelic country noir", but damned if they didn't end up being my favorite new (to me) artist that we saw. Some of you People in Black might enjoy them.
  • WIBG at the storied Central Tavern. Their blurb? Unintelligible, which kind of matches their sound: Dead Kennedys meets the Doors meets Led Zeppelin meets, says the Tickler, Mudhoney. We kept listening (with ear plugs) mainly for the WTF factor.
  • Hip hop with DJ U No Hu - Not really my thing, but the dance off featuring the Massive Monkeys B-boy crew was definitely the Tickler's thing. (After our exhausted night at her place she insisted that I watch videos of international B-boy competition as we ate her deluxe oatmeal.)
  • Astrocolor - Canadian funkateers. Stop laughing. I liked them, and they brought a much-needed queer vibe.
  • Dancing to local techno hero Pezzner, about whom I've written many times before. He brought it, and the fabulous view from the stripped-down space on the 18th floor of Seattle's oldest and lovingly preserved skyscraper (completed 1914) was icing. That's how you end a night like that.
One not-so-great thing about the festival: we discovered that we weren't supposed to bring any bag bigger than a clutch into the venues, even though that was unevenly enforced. We had to check our bags at the stand that Upstream had set up. 10 out of 10 for security, but they could have handled the communication & convenience better.

And on a sad note, the Tickler lost one of her two cats. No more shall I hear gay feline sex of questionable consensuality. The surviving cat is the kinky one, and I gave him many swats just above the base of his tail, which he loves.

Went to see the second Guardians Of the Galaxy with m'boy. I would have skipped it, but Ex saw it without him and he was miffed about that. It's everything it should have been, so if you're into that kind of movie, see it.

Went to [personal profile] gfish's annual Eurovision party, where alcohol numbs the pain of spectacularly bad attempts at pop music and eye-forky staging. This year did not disappoint. I won't spoil it for you, but the consensus in the room was that Europeans aren't like us. What really makes that party for me is the quality snark from the local audience. If the US ever enters Eurovision, I believe it's our sacred duty to get kicked out by pulling a Devo or NWA.
sistawendy: (smartass hester)
There's a certain movie released the year I was born that's basically softcore porn. I just got done laughing hard at the opening credits. And it's a mother lode of costume inspiration. Because I'm immodest like that. No, I won't tell you which movie because I don't want to spoil the surprise.

ETA: I first saw the movie at Waid's, where I haven't been in for damn ever, at a house music night. I was glued to the screen because it was so far over the top, even though there was no sound from the film.

Speaking of immodest, posting a halfway-decent bikini pic on OKCupid garners all kind of attention, even if you're trans lesbian. Who knew?
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
Things I've done so far this year:
  1. Slept for twelve of the last twenty-four hours. I so needed that, partly because I...
  2. Caught my son's cold.
  3. Consumed an awful lot of fluids, also related to item #2.
  4. Watched Casablanca with him. He'd never seen this timeless yet timely flick.
Things I need to do this year:
  1. Finish healing from NYE. Ahem.
  2. Don't take my body for granted: my teeth, toes, and hands aren't in pain, and that wasn't true for much of last year.
  3. See Rogue One with m'boy, which I'm doing this afternoon. (I have the day off.)
  4. A better job of career management. This is not my favorite activity, but it's absolutely essential.
  5. Creative stuff. Oddly enough, I'm not really looking forward to this. Yeah, I have a few ideas, but none that I'm really excited about.
  6. Keep shaking the tree in the hopes that at least one Ms. Right will fall out. It's tempting to give up sometimes, but to quote Funny Lady, it's a numbers game.
  7. Launch my damn kid if at all possible.
  8. Survive.
  9. Thrive.
  10. Don't let the items that aren't completely under my control get to me.

yin & yang

Dec. 16th, 2016 12:15 pm
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
Good: An OKCupid nibble, and a nice rejection from a lady who says she's still figuring out just how queer she is. Some of my queer girlfriends have told me that's a great big nope anyway, and I believe them.

Meh: Cold. I'm wearing my black patent 20-eyelet Docs, two pairs of wool blend socks, two pairs of leggings (outer pair: the scissor leggings from Bombsheller), a short-sleeve velvet top, and my hoodie with tails right now. I'm not overly warm indoors. I've had to remember to bring my slippers into the shower with me so my toes don't go numb.

Good? Planning for Florida. I leave in five days. Lately, an ornery mom doesn't seem like that big a worry.

Bad: The world may end real soon now.

Good: Pho with m'boy Wednesday. His idea.

Bad: I haven't updated in three days, mainly because I had nothing to say.

Good: My son & I finished The Seven Samurai last night. My son approves.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
Lovely sleepover & OK Thai food with the Tickler on Sunday night. The dialog of the night:

Tickler: Would you like some tips?
Me: [a little too quickly] Yes!

Me? Insecure about my relative lack of lesbian experience considering my age? Oh yeah.

Alert readers may have noticed that I left my son alone in my place and didn't see him until dinnertime. He's 19; I can do that, right? I think. It helps that his school term just ended, so there's no need to launch him every morning.

Speaking of the Wendling, with the greatest of reluctance he agreed to watch the first half hour The Seven Samurai. Why reluctant? In his mind, all old movies are "cheesy": not enough spaceships, robots, explosions, and CGI, I guess. Well, 90 minutes later, he asked me to save the rest of the 3.5 hour movie for later. Nyeh heh heh heh!

I have one batch of elector letters to send. After that, I'm out of time, and out of stamps. I think I speak for us all when I say, shit. Between China, Russia, corruption, and the fucking domestic Nazis, things could get real bad real fast. What blows my mind is how calm so many people are.

I'm looking forward to Florida next week, Mom's orneriness notwithstanding.
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: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Elder Goth had to postpone our Saturday night date at the Merc because she got snarfed by visiting family. Bah humbug! So I went to the Merc anyway for a little HSF over absinthe. Chatted with an AMAB genderqueer, had an is-she-or-isn't-she moment. I asked online and she is, but she's also monogamously married. Excelsior? Sidewaysier.
Got zapped. Am spectacularly smooth for New Year's. Shaving this morning took five seconds.
Saw Star Wars with m'boy yesterday at Cinerama. Yes, they got the spirit of the thing right. Yes, there are (perhaps too many) good new characters. But I think it borrows too many things large and small from the earlier movies. Do I want to see it again right away? Meh.
Today: Spending the afternoon with the director of Lambert House to do the annual financial report. Luckily, I have a hard stop for that postponed date with Elder Goth. There shall be leather.

Tomorrow: divorce hearing. Expect either sweet relief and celebration or wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Thursday: Much-anticipated lunch with [ profile] rigel_p, and three new year's parties. Good grief, when will I find time to do my nails?

The second Saturday in January: I have a much-delayed dinner date with Taller Woman, who if you'll recall has been fighting cancer and is awesome in a mature way. So of course that's the night when the Norwegian, for whom I confess to having the hots, invited me to her birthday party. Arg! Too many women, not enough time, cuddles, or ahem.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
My latest exercise jam is really long walks around Seattle. On Saturday I walked down to Fremont from my lake place in Phinney (Or is it Greenwood? Or even Green Lake?) right down Greenwood Ave. past my favorite view spots to Fremont. I was just about to snarf some caffeine before going home, when Much Younger Woman called as promised and proposed vegan Thai and seeing "The Martian" in the U District instead of going dancing in Frelard. Sure, said I, having heard so much hype from you guys.

But instead of taking the bus to the U district like a sane person, I walked to the Fremont Bridge, then past Gas Works, then up the Ave*. Call it walker's high. The only place I saw on my entire walk that wasn't new & shiny was a few houses in south Phinney (or is it north Fremont?) between 45th & 50th. Is it wrong to be relieved at seeing a group of Ave rats?

Araya's Place vegan Thai? Is good. "The Martian"? Thumbs up. I want to see it again with m'boy because of its exquisite space geekery.

Jumped on a perfectly-timed 44 and didn't feel like waiting 14 minutes for an E with people scarier than I am, so I walked to Phinney Ave. for a 5. Wait time? 14 minutes. Walked 29 34 more blocks north and then east after 0100. Saw a dude apparently living in his van and looking sheepish after relieving himself in the bushes by the zoo.

Believe it or not, I was ambulatory the next day with only one blister.

*For you non-locals, that's University Way NE, the shop-lined, pedestrian-filled arterial that parallels the western edge of the University of Washington campus. Perhaps so called because it's where 14th Ave. NE would ordinarily be.
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
Watched "Straight Outta Compton" with Much Younger Woman last night at Sundance. Good movie, good company. I think she was a little disappointed that I didn't want to go back to the Hill with her afterward, but I was tired and it was a school night. The good news is that her summer quarter ends this week, so she'll have much more time for shenanigans. She hung out with me at my bus stop and deliberately missed one of her own - she was going the other way - so we'd have more time to talk. Aww.

Oh yeah, the movie: It's a biopic of Niggers With Attitude. It's basically the story of a group of young men who eventually rise above a bad business and a worse neighborhood. It's also timely; the L.A. & Detroit police get a lot of unflattering screen time. I confess I'm not enough of a rap fan to have remembered the ending from the news, so I won't spoil it for you.

It's weird walking around the U District more than twenty years after I was a student there. Everything's cleaner, newer, and bigger. Given that I was waiting for a bus at 2230 I have reason to be grateful for a reduction in the neighborhood's sketchiness.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
Good: Picnic on Mercer Island to watch the Blue Angels. To tell you the truth, if m'boy hadn't wanted to go, I wouldn't have bothered.

Bad: I couldn't persuade him to go to Riz's hip hop thing down in the CD. It was sort of a mini-street festival.

Good: I got him to watch "The Celluloid Closet" with me. He agreed that it doesn't suck. It's mainly about depictions of queers in US & UK movies throughout the 20th century. It's a nice coincidence that the first Hollywood movie to depict queers as neither villains nor doomed nor jokes - you know, happy - since the jazz age was The Boys in the Band from 1970, just months after Stonewall.

Favorite quote, from Harvey Fierstein: "Negative visibility is better than no visibility." I hate to say it, but he's right. Just the knowledge that you are not alone is powerful, and that was even truer in the middle of the twentieth century, when queers had no freedom of the press or assembly.

And Marlene Dietrich in "Morocco"? Oh. Em. Gee. I can't believe that made it onto a screen, even pre-Hays code. No wonder the woman's an icon. And the people responsible for the Hays code? Looked and sounded like they might be people responsible for the Hays code.

Bad: Yelled at kid for leaving dirty dishes around. Loudly. You would too after the several hundredth time and hell no, I am not exaggerating.

Good: Cooked, for the first time in four weeks, for him.

Bad: He's a cell phone game addict. Getting him to put his stupid phone down and do anything else is a frequent struggle.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
Last night m'boy & I watched The Lives of Others, which is a fantastic flick if you haven't seen it, that's basically a tragedy about the redemption of a Stasi agent. I love it that I have a son who wants to watch movies in German about the Stasi with me. Yeah, maybe I did a few things right, but mainly I'm very lucky.

ETA: We were out walking Bigpuppy as usual before the movie, and I said to him, "Remember when I first started living as a woman, and you were so worried about how I'd look and sound?"
"Did I get better, or did you just get used to me?"
"You got better."
sistawendy: (mad woman)
M'boy was with me for the second weekend in a row because he won't be with me for three weekends in a row: next weekend is nails, leg waxing, and dreads. The two weekends after that are Burning Man.

At his suggestion we saw Guardians of the Galaxy. It's as good as everyone says; I find comic book movies much more palatable if they don't take themselves too seriously.

While he was at work, I munched through a few items on my Burning Man to do list:

Tent: check. Yeah, I needed to re-learn where to put that third pole because I haven't pitched the tent since last year's Burn.
Air mattress: check. I've charged up the air pump, too.
Bike tubes: check. I got to teach my son how to deflate a bike tube.
Car: lights & signals, check. Last year the cops were extra picky about stuff like that.

I chickened out of the Beaverton meal plan because it looked like they were all set to cook vegan from fresh ingredients. I don't know how to do that even at home. I told our esteemed mayor that I didn't want to inflict my ignorance on my fellow Beavers. Clif bars, Cheddar Bunnies, kale chips, and dried fruit for me. You know I'm all about that.
sistawendy: (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
Yeah, I'm late to the pop culture party again, but I finally watched Frozen last night while doing laundry. I'd heard that the usual right-wing nut jobs had discovered a queer subtext in the movie, but more unusually, I got the impression that a few queers out there agreed with them.

Bullpuckey. One of the characters does indeed get into a situation that has some parallels to growing up queer. But really, that's it.

The nut jobs will keep on being nut jobs for the rest of their lives no matter what anyone does. They'll just get quieter and quieter as their nuttiness continues to get less socially acceptable.

But there's nothing for queers to get excited about here, either. We should shrug at Frozen, get in Hollywood's face for more queer stories & characters that aren't caricatures, and above all tell our own stories.
sistawendy: (flirty hippy)
I may still be dealing with the ops issue from hell at work, but a couple of weeks ago I instigated a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show after work tonight. The email thread seemed to suggest that attendance would be good. (It wasn't.) I got talked into costume, i.e. what I used to wear out clubbing. I was one of two in costume. I was the only one who said lines. But still, I'm glad I did it. Next time I'll just have to publicize it a little better, I guess.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Since yesterday morning, I've put in a full day at work in small chunks. A server in a database decided to hork its RAID, which meant that there was a big backlog of processing that needed to be eased downstream.
When I wasn't babysitting software, I was watching Elysium with m'boy and Aspiring Ex. It's by the same guy who did District 9, so it has similar darkly comic touches and even one of the same leading actors. It's a bit heavy handed - lots of 16-ton analogies to the US health care "system" and the immigration situation - but it usually does a competent job of suspending disbelief. I wonder how many people will be a "favela ninja" for Halloween.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
Saw Pacific Rim with my son on Saturday. Sure, it was as good as a robots-vs-monsters movie is going to be thanks to Guillermo del Toro's direction. But if I hadn't had my son and a gift card for Cinerama, I wouldn't have gone, and I'm OK with that decision.

I was going to teach my son how to clean a bathroom on Saturday night, but it was so lovely out that we went for a walk in the twilight up & down Phinney Ridge and checking out all the real estate porn lovely houses & gardens. Je ne regrette rien.

Too many of my friends are dealing with manipulators who are either substance abusers or have the kind of sense of entitlement that makes me glad to be queer. If I were Imperatrix Mundi, I'd round these losers up and put them together on one of the larger uninhabited Aleutian Islands. For them, I think hell is other people like them with no one else to parasitize.

Sunday night's work issue kept me from drinking and spending too much with good company. I'm a bit conflicted about that.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
Last night and this morning the Wendling and I watched How to Survive a Plague, a documentary about AIDS activism in the days before working treatments, and in particular the New York chapter of ACT UP. Basically, those working treatments wouldn't have come as soon as they did, if ever, without a lot of gay men - primarily, but with plenty of honorable exceptions - acting rude and learning a whole lot of science.

Some of those guys were mixing it up with the cops, NIH officials, and presidential candidates. Others were designing drug trials and saying to the scientific community, "Here, this is how you should run the research." Some of the heroes in this story are the scientists who listened. One near-tragedy of the movement was the fault line that developed in the early '90s between its political and technical wings as frustration mounted: in the late eighties a lot of ACT UPpers believed that just one of the dozens of drugs then known would prove to be the magic bullet by 1990.

I don't often cry at movies. Don't blame my Y chromosome, wise guys: my mother doesn't, either. But the footage of the AIDS quilt on the Mall in D.C. did me in. The Wendling asked me why I cried. Part of my explanation was that it's the same reason Aspiring Ex cries at Schindler's List.

I didn't cry about the quilt when it happened, and I might not have cried even if I'd had the hormone levels that I do now. I barely knew a very few angry young gay men, but I didn't feel then as if AIDS was my fight. If I'd gone to college in New York City instead of elsewhere in the state, it might very well have become my fight. It's disorienting to see news footage that I vaguely remember made into history, the history of people with whom I have way more in common than I realized at the time.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
I was partway through the 20-block walk back from the drug store last night when the Siberian Siren texted, asking to move movie night to then instead of Thursday. It sure beats housework, I told her.

At length I went to the QFC on Broadway, where the hungry Siren was getting something to eat. And who should I spot checking out but Mistress Matisse, columnist, frequent tweeter, and professional sadist? I confess to being a fangirl. I got her attention and said, "Maura Hubbell. [ profile] sistawendy."
"I thought you looked familiar."
"Uh, I'm here to meet someone. I better find her."
We went our separate ways. I've wanted to meet her in person for ages. Pity it wasn't in a more... appropriate venue.

And what was the movie? The late, great Federico Fellini's 8 1/2. I'd discovered that the Siren had never heard of Fellini, so she proposed the movie night, and what a fine plan it was. The movie is nominally about a film director who's under pressure from everybody and has lost his inspiration, but it's also about way more than that. And Fellini's visual style alone is worth watching. There are many good reasons why film schools show this movie to students. Fun fact: Fellini shared my birthday.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
I spent the weekend at the old place with m'boy. Aspiring Ex was off at a writing retreat spending the weekend with girlfriends, so we spent the weekend shopping for a bigger bed, having dinner together, and arguing about who's got better journalism. Business as usual, more or less.

I promised m'boy we would see the new Star Trek movie if he finished his homework in time, and that's what happened. It makes me sad (again) to see a venerable and once innovative sci-fi franchise reduced to space opera. The things I do for my son.

Speaking of sad, dating still sucks, and Bigpuppy woke me at 0610 this morning. I think it's going to be an early night if I can ever get out from under my work issues. At least running errands around the neighborhood on foot this afternoon was lovely.

I guess this weekend was my penance for all the fun I had with queer and trans women over the last week.


sistawendy: (Default)

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