Maura's Illuminated Manuscript

Just a few blocks down the hill from the Devil Girl House are five (5) Thai restaurants, a majority of which have disappointed me. I finally got around to trying the fifth and farthest the other day: Kaosamai. They gave me a verbal warning about the spiciness. "Understood", I said, and then proceeded to make myself hiccup with four-star eats. I'll be back.

Nice place! They have a big deck, and it's right next to Nectar.

A block down the street from me there's an older man who often sits in a rocking chair in front of his building. He sometimes complimented me on my outfits as I walked downhill, usually for grocery shopping.

Sometime last year he was standing on the corner with a camera, talking loudly at passers-by in a way that sure sounded like he was having a bad mental health day. I was more than a little afraid that somebody would call the cops on him: he's Black, you see.

I hadn't seen him for months until this past weekend, and then again tonight. He's back, and apparently back to normal. Seldom have I been more relieved to see someone whose name I don't know.

Lovely dinner last night with former co-worker C at the Gainesbourg. C loves to cook and eat, so she was really into it and had never been there before. Go me! Yes, C's queer, yes, she's cute, but also yes, she's eighteen years younger than I am and monogamously married. I banished all impure thoughts from my head.

I stopped by Marmalade on the way home, partly to check out one of their more exotic gelato flavors* and find out more about the place. It seems to be a family business, complete with a teenage daughter behind the counter. The older dude who I think was the main builder said that one reason it took so long for them to finish was that a business partner backed out, prompting a revision of their business plan. I sense, especially from the older dude, perfectionism and a passion for experimentation. We'll see if that translates into a successful business. They were definitely getting foot traffic in the door, even after dark in November.

By that time my hip joint was complaining, so I bailed on my plans for the rest of the evening. Le sigh.



*Fig & mascarpone. Nice flavor, but the mascarpone freezes with an odd texture.

Gosh, what have I been doing? When I'm not working, grocery shopping, it seems.

What haven't I done? Gone to the house music monthly that's just down the hill from my house because it's on the first Tuesday. Le sigh. I've moved into a neighborhood full of temptations, but they all have their price.

That's not the only weeknight event I've blown off in recent weeks for either health or sanity reasons, so now I'm ready to collect on that karma do what I usually do in October: party my little white booty off.

Luckily, I have many lined up:

1. A munch tomorrow night. It's a pity it'll be in a place with terrible food, but these are my people, If You Know What I Mean.
2. Brunch with trystbat Saturday!
3. Uwajimaya with Tacoma Girl on Saturday afternoon. I really should get non-alcoholic beverages and non-sushi eats for my Halloween party.
4. Possible outing on Tuesday to the Blue Moon. Hey, it's early doors, cover-free, and the DJ is a FOAF.
5. A Halloween party that isn't mine on the 11th.
6. Latex dinner the 17th.
7. A certain luminary's birthday at Massive on the 18th.
8. Seacompression on the 19th.

Madness!

Oh: I got my free gummint COVID tests in the mail. If you're in the US, order yours if you haven't already.

FedEx, unbeknownst to me until yesterday, delivered an expensive telescoping aluminum ladder that I bought to one of my neighbors before their given delivery window even started. I received no notification. So I spent much of yesterday ringing that neighbor's doorbell. I still haven't met him, though, because he's out of town. A different neighbor had taken in the package, and he rang my doorbell yesterday. He seems all right, and he helped me get that heavy package around East Neighbor's house to mine despite being in surgical recovery.

Moral: FedEx is stinky. This is the worst of several bad experiences I've had with them. Yeah, some people say all delivery services are no good, but FedEx has been consistently the worst in my experience.

And why do I need a fancy telescoping ladder? Because I don't have storage space for a sufficiently long extension ladder. Yes, I bought this for Halloween decoration, but it would be really nice to clean my windows on the outside someday, too.

I took yesterday off to go to my dentist out in the suburbs. The me of twenty years ago would find it hilarious to read this, but Totem Lake has gone upscale. I paid too much for shawarma and a glass of white wine, but everything else about Mamnoon is right on.

Latex dinner yesterday. Lovely as ever. SFDs: the little purple skater dress, out for its last outing of the year. I learned of an event called Illuminaughty on the 27th that's basically Burner plus kink; the organizers specifically invited latex folks. My sweet spot, right? Except that I've already made plans with the Tickler. Ah well, tickets are kind of spendy anyway. Crazy-making.

Saturday: lunch with cupcake_goth's pal T. I got to show her around lower Fremont and buy a couple of things, namely a little mead and a lavender to replace one of the hydrangeas that the builders planted in direct sun. Nice & mellow.

I'd planned to hit the Merc with Dancer Saturday night, but she was in some wedding-related drama with her sister and wasn't feeling it physically, due to poor sleep, or emotionally. I was disappointed, but I understand. I told her the tale of my Good and Evil Sisters, which she found a bit shocking.

And speaking of Evil Sister, she & I have exchanged mailing addresses — directly, and without Good Sister on the text thread! It's the first one-on-one communication that we've had in sixteen years. Might this be the beginning of something? Wayell, I don't have my hopes up. So far she's acting as if she never treated me like shit, which isn't OK.

But back to the Merc: a lovely time was had. I wore my spiky black bra and scratched people with it. I danced in heels for the first time in months and wrecked my feet a little. I was annoyed to see that the late-night schedule on the bus home from the U District has changed to hourly. It seems that the optimal time to catch the train is 0030; I left too early.

Sunday: art at Base Camp Studios with Tacoma Girl, and then at her suggestion Uwajimaya for grocery shopping, which both of us badly needed to do. I really like hanging out with her, and no, that's not dirty.

Dinner at Meesha with the Womanhandler, a drink and very trans chat at Mr. B's, and then some womanhandling until I got tired. I don't regret shifting my schedule to the mornings, but it does put a crimp in my dating life.

During one of the wee hours, my intestines emptied out rather dramatically. What did I eat that caused it? Either Meesha, which I don't want to believe because it was delicious, or the badly needed snack on the way home from Uwajimaya.

Good Sister has sent the other two of us the first paperwork for selling Mom's house. I think she's working ahead in the grandest GS style.

Edited to add: Sometime shortly before I finished my bike ride yesterday, I punctured my back tube. The back tire is bald and I found a crack in it through which I could see daylight, but I felt around for something stuck in the tire, found something, and extracted it. Or so I thought: I replaced the tube, but that one's now flat too. I'll be getting my exercise today by walking to a bike shop and getting a new tire and tubes. Le sigh. But honestly, it had been a long time since I had this kind of problem, and I really need to replace that tire before the fall rains. I'm kind of proud of myself for completely trashing a bike tire in less than a year and a half.

My boss was precipitously let go two days ago. I could tell early on that his reports thought better of him than his peers or higher ups, so I'm sad but not surprised. Luckily, we've got someone very knowledgeable and competent stepping in, at least temporarily. Work has otherwise been meh: dealing with the quirks of a creaky old system gets in the way of the more exciting work of replacement, i.e. business as usual.

But! Happy things abound:

1. The Mighty Orb has returned.
2. Tacoma Girl is back from Spain, and she's going to tell me tales while I serve the sake that I picked up from...
3. ...Uwajimaya last night. My excuse for going there: I needed spicy beans for ma po tofu. And I note that they have both Huy Fong Sriracha and its new competitor, made by their erstwhile pepper growers. (There was a civil suit that Huy Fong lost.) For the same unit price, Huy Fong's bottle is bigger. Based on that and my knowledge that Huy Fong Sriracha cures the common cold, I stuck with what I know.
4. Thence to ladies' night at Greenwood Hardware. I got rosé and popcorn as I picked up food waste bags and a new duster, 20% off. I've never seen so many women, or a higher percentage of women, in a hardware store in my life.
5. I got to see the sunset from Phinney Ridge, which hadn't happened since I moved away.
6. The Tickler arrives later today, and I'm nearly ready.
7. I get to see gement this afternoon! Will wonders never cease?

My Burner buddy K is still in town, and on Tuesday we did the grand tour of my 'hood, Fremont. That included:

1. The troll, because you gotta. It's the best known and most unanimously beloved* symbol of the neighborhood.
2. Eetz at a forgettable salad joint down on 34th. But K wanted something healthy. I must admit that Fremont has many tasty options, but not that many healthy ones.
3. The Fremont Vintage Mall. I'd never been in there – it was K's idea – and boy howdy, does it have stuff in it! Some of it's even good stuff! It's a basement warren with an unobtrusive door at street level, and one a level down in an alley. Yes, the interior is amazing because Fremont. In general it's not a good place for deals, but I scored a pair of rubber French** riding boots that fit me like a glove for $40. Go me!
4. Mr. B's meadery, which I've written about here before. I guessed that K would like it, and I was right.
5. We walked around as I pointed out the night spots, which were closed when we went by.

K wanted to meet up yesterday, but it didn't happen. Instead, it happened today: we hit Uwajimaya. We bought all the things***.

Hanging out with K has tought me a few things: I'm a lot more reluctant to impose on people than she is, and maybe more so than most people. Eating at normal times of day and toughing out normal Seattle winter weather are apparently my superpowers.

On a related shopping note: Temptress is selling some absolutely gorgeous boots, Fluevog Miracles, for a fair price. Maaaybe they fit me. I so very don't need them. But if I had them, I'd find occasions to wear them. I told Temptress to consider me a buyer of last resort.

Drinks with the latex folks just started, but mayunn, I just don't feel like leaving the house again.



*Not everybody loves the Lenin statue. Besides, there are lots of statues like it around the world. The troll, though? One of a kind.
**My EU shoe size is 42.
***In my case, Sriracha, sesame oil, Otokoyama sake, chopsticks because I lost mine in the move, and a late lunch because K hadn't eaten yet!

I slept through the vile weather yesterday, which basically means I slept through all the daylight. Behold the downside of being above the 47th parallel.

But eventually, as one must, I went grocery shopping. My supermarket of choice is right across the street from Dreamland, a flashy-looking restaurant that I never got around to entering until yesterday. The decor is over the top in the grandest Fremont style. Theme? Disco, which of course I approve of. Sitting at the bar I could see what looked like mirror ball punch bowls. I had perfectly acceptable shrimp & grits, but it did seem a bit overpriced. That's hardly surprising considering that it's right across the street from a small Google campus. The staff seem... kind of gay, both men and women, and I'm OK with that too. So yes, I'm ambivalent. It's loud and bright and gets busy early. More a place to take the gang if you're going out to one of the clubs down Fremont Way than a place for date night*.

Today is my thirteenth rebirthday. I've already been acting like a teen for a while, but I'll happily seize this excuse to do so even more.



*And where would I go for date night? Le Coin for fancy, Brouwer's for not. But really, good restaurants in Fremont are fish in a barrel.

Went to Roxy's Back Door with the Purdy Persian and her fiancé. Roxy's is divided into multiple spaces, so I was foolishly expecting cheap eetz*, but what I got was nice cocktails, over-the-top decor, and an aerialist who did what I thought was a solid performance given the small (for an aerialist) space.

Conversations with the PP have a way of turning intense. She isn't nearly as alarmed at the curbs on medical care for trans people as I am; she seems to be fine with going after affirming care for kids and denied that it was happening for adults. I didn't make a scene, but in retrospect, maybe I should have.

On a related note, I told her why I'm not planning on going to Florida to say goodbye to my mother, namely that she's a veggie and DeSantis is a fascist. She offered to accompany me there. I declined the offer.

But the evening wasn't without its fascination: the Persian decries the absence of matriarchs in Western families as one regularly encounters in Iran. Also, there's no taboo against returning to the family home as a grown and educated if young adult; that taboo is especially strong in my family. Oh, and third person pronouns in Farsi have no gender. Arabic, on the other hand, has apparently been marinated in gender fluid.



*Those two are foodies. Of course they don't do cheap eetz.