sistawendy: (dolly)
I hadn't been to the Flammable night at Re-bar in at least a couple of years until last night. It was good to see that it (mostly) hadn't changed.
  • Sweet house grooves - check.
  • B-boys - check.
  • Lots of casually dressed gay boys - check.
  • At least two other apparent dykes - check.
  • People with silly things on their heads - check. Really. This is a regular thing at Re-bar, and I love it.
  • Gorgeous young women in platform boots - check? This is not a regular thing. Yes, of course I talked to them. They were perfectly charming.
  • Gigantic buildings looming over Re-bar and the adjacent shops - aieee! Please don't let the developers eat the rest of the 1100 block of Howell. At least the high rises that are there occupy what used to be parking lots, which I'm OK with.
sistawendy: (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
While I was driving m'boy back to Kirkland yesterday* he expressed the opinion that he could learn everything he needed to know about sex with women from the Internet.

I laughed. My poor, Aspie, 21st-century digital boy. How did your mother & I go so wrong, and more to the point, how do we fix it in a way that won't make you die of cringing? I wish I could take him to the Boning Babes workshop at Camp Beaverton.

*I wasn't sure his ADHD med had taken effect yet, and I really didn't want to stress out on a Sunday morning.
Because StartupCo has taken today (Presidents' Day) off, I got in a rare trip to the Sunday night house night at Re-bar called Flammable. Yay: solid grooves, cute women. Bah: crowded, pretty sure the cute women are straight.

This weekend marks Re-bar's 25th anniversary. I missed the anniversary shindig on Saturday night, but I got to congratulate Michael Manahan, a current Re-bar owner whom I've mentioned many times here as a DJ & promoter. Re-bar continues succeed brilliantly at fulfilling its founders' vision of "a gay bar, only for everybody". It's been a venue for theater, comedy, and of course, music.
sistawendy: (glam shoot)
I bought plant stuff at Swanson's and bread at Larsen's. You guessed it: I went shopping in Ballard with m'boy. Sadly, the non-trivial rain kept us away from Golden Gardens.
My Aspiring Ex took m'boy back early because she's been flattened by an infusion and needed him to do chores. I seized that opportuninty to go to Ceremony, the goth-flavored monthly at Re-bar. I'd been before, but this time, it was a reunion of sorts for the Vogue.

For you non-Seattle folks, the Vogue was a club in Belltown and later Capitol Hill run by husband and wife (or equivalents?) Monny & Shawna. They didn't work too hard at being hip or tony, which got them some criticism, but of all establishments of its kind in Seattle, theirs was the most trans-friendly and otherwise accepting of "alternative" lifestyles for about twenty years. (It didn't hurt that Monny is a straight-up transvestite.) It was a center of social life and (sub)culture; I even went to a wedding there once.

Last night Monny and Shawna, several of their former staff, and a gazillion former Vogue patrons packed Re-bar, which had installed a stripper pole on stage in honor of the one at the Vogue. I was feeling the love. I briefly spoke to Shawna, who had somehow found out that I'd "finished", as she put it. I was touched & impressed. Shawna, by the way, still looks very, very good, especially if you consider that she voted against Nixon.

It was also so very nice to see lots of the regulars whom I don't often see anymore. I may have to make it to Ceremony more often.
I engaged in a little cloak & dagger stuff with my favorite Russian, the Siberian Siren, last night during breaks in socializing. You know I'm not into vague here on LJ, but in this case I have to be for her sake. She says it all went according to plan. I look forward to debriefing her hearing the details.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
Because it was a long weekend, and because I didn't go out last weekend, I went out twice this weekend. Hot Flash was, well, full of lesbians about my age. My goodness, do those girls drink. Some of them are amusing afterwards, and one or two of them may even turn into lesbians who aren't "straight", i.e. lesbians with an interest in trans women.

Re-bar last night was much more salutary: the long weekend sardine scene, yours truly feeling motivated to dance until sweaty (easy to do with that many people in there), and chatting with Riz Rollins outside on Howell. More world shrinkage: Riz is a friend of L, girlfriend of the Siberian Siren.

I broke in my broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner properly today, and made all the anal parts of my brain tingle with pleasure. I rewarded myself with a walk around Green Lake in the sun. It's kind of sad that even there you can run into people trying to con you out of money.

I've only had a few twinges about not going to Burning Man, usually when I'm at the old old place watching the sunset while walking the dog with m'boy.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
I went to pick some stuff up at [livejournal.com profile] elspethdemina's yesterday afternoon and ended up spending the next three hours learning more than I ever thought it was possible to know about sex toys. The Cliff's Notes version:
  • Phthalates are evil. They smell like new air mattress, and they're in a lot of the cheaper sex toys out there. How can this be?
  • Because the quality of sex toys is completely unregulated, worldwide.
  • Stainless steel, glass, medical- or food-grade silicone, and appropriately coated wood are your friends. They're non-porous, and they don't sweat phthalates.
  • How can you tell that a cheap sex toy claiming to be "silicone" isn't? It burns real good.



Used a headset to talk to [livejournal.com profile] motherofangels while driving back from zappy for the first time. Yet another sign that I've joined the 21st century. Tacoma to the Kirkland PCC was just about the perfect length.


Re-bar had a little 80's night last night, wherein I got to swoon at [livejournal.com profile] intrepid_reason and snark with a much younger woman. The staff & owners are probably delighted at how much that crowd drinks, i.e. much more than the hippies & house heads. Pity [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth and her Stunt Husband couldn't join us.
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
Re-bar on the Sunday night before Memorial Day: one of the best sardine scenes I've ever experienced, which is saying something. I got adopted by the fianceé of one of the resident DJs and she showed me a wonderful time. Awesome.

Monday, lunch with the seldom seen [livejournal.com profile] cow! I'm doing my best to seduce em back to Seattle. Afterwards I attempted to walk off the sweet potato fries from Coastal Kitchen, and was inevitably drawn into Everyday Music where I snarfed some Arcade Fire. I don't want record stores to die. Never, ever.

I worked a live site issue from 7:30 Monday night, in the middle of walking Bigpuppy, until after 1:00 Tuesday morning.

Lots of things have been happening lately that aren't really bloggable, even under lock. Ahem.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
I got my dance on at the weekly Flammable night at Re-bar last night, and I got so warm I had to take my tights off in the bathroom. Good for the soul, that is. I got three compliments on the skirt that used to belong to [livejournal.com profile] icprncs, the short white one with the black roses. One of the bartenders (Carla the part owner?) asked why she hadn't seen me in a while, so I got to tell her about the Grand Snip. She said I looked happy.

It's a pity that a) the only people who recognize me at Flammable are the staff, and that b) people who go that night are 75% gay men. Pretty gay men, but still. I wish there were a regular lesbian night that doesn't end at 10:00 like Hot Flash, and doesn't have music I despise like Cherry.

It still kills me a little that I've missed socializing at the Vampire Ball, Norwescon, and the goth prom this spring. I need to make contact with friends before I start voting Republican or something.

Pondering Monday night trivia at the Wildrose. Any takers?
sistawendy: (smartass hester)
I finally made it to a tasting party at the CSPC. That's where n00bs like yours truly get to sample the variegated delights of BDSM.

It was crowded. The fellow who flogged me, who had a manner right out of a suburban sports bar, was delighted that it was the best-attended he'd ever seen, and he'd seen plenty. I got there fifteen minutes after the doors opened, and I was near the bottom of most lists. Moral: get there early.

Speaking of flogging, I'll give you the scoop on what I tried & liked. But first, I should say that I was a very poor predictor of my own tastes, even based on my (admitedly limited) past experience. You really do have to try it all. OK, I do.

Nitty-gritty BDSM details )

I am, in the words of one friend, a cheap date. Surprising as sunrise.
After the CSPC, I went down to Re-bar where I'd told GLBT people from MyCo to meet me if they wanted to talk about pride. Hah. It was so packed, nobody would have ever found me. I had a fabulous time, though; I've been so busy working on Project Girlfriend that I've been depriving myself of vital house & techno groove.
sistawendy: (contemplative red)
But first: It's come to my attention that some of you had gotten the fairly reasonable impression that I call myself my son's mother. I do not. Nibs explicitly asked me not to, and I'm OK with that. He calls me Em.

ETA: Remember, Nibs is the one who's with him every day, dealing with her physical issues and his neurological ones.
Bad: I really ought not to go to Flammable at Re-bar tonight and groove to house, because of the money situation. Fred Everything will be there tonight, and it will be good.

Good: Gothy social goodness next weekend.

Bad: Unfortunately, the gothy social goodness is a going-away party for people I'd rather not have going away.

Good: The Seattle Erotic Art Festival is next weekend. I've moved zappy for it. See you Saturday night, the 21st. Mom, let me know if you want the catalog again this year.

Bad: Yeah, there's more bad stuff here, but it would be unwise to put it anywhere online. Fear not: it has nothing to do with any of my friends or relations.

Good: My surgery consult for the Grand Snip is June 1st. (Even though my surgeon of choice, Dr. Marci Bowers, does the actual surgery in San Mateo, CA, she comes up to Seattle once or twice a year for consults. Why here? I'm not entirely sure.) To rip off Churchill, it's not the beginning of the end, but maybe the end of the beginning.

Good: I have
  • my health
  • a job
  • a roof over my head
  • a car
  • a son who's pretty neat when he isn't being exasperating
  • a more-or-less ex who isn't psycho
  • hope for Project Girlfriend
  • genu-wine boobs
  • fewer hairs on my face than yesterday
  • a sooper sekrit circumflatulation project
  • several meals' worth of spaghetti sauce that I made in the fridge.

So there.
sistawendy: (dolly)
I finally made it to Cherry, the lesbian night at Re-bar. Let me get one thing out of the way: gay men, on the whole, have better musical taste than lesbians. Much better. At Cherry I kept hearing top-40ish music that I'm used to hearing on my zappy lady's table. And don't get me started about the train wrecks; techno has turned me into a DJ snob.

I'm a little embarrased to admit that I wimped out and took it easy on the makeup because, hey, lesbians. Hah. There were plenty of women with butch hair, flannel shirts, or both with nearly goth-worthy eye makeup. I love Seattle.

Crowd? Huge. Enthusiastic. Also much more interested in drinking, relatively, than the Sunday night gay boys. (Given the music, I don't blame them.) Also relatively more likely to put their hands on each other. Hippies bouncing unpredictably around a dance floor? Annoying. Lesbians bouncing up and down on a dance floor with their hands on each other? Adorable.

Did I get any bad vibes from anyone else? Nah. This is Re-bar. It's a tough night to go to alone, though. At least it was for me. [livejournal.com profile] imflying, who turned me on to it, had to beg off.

Stay tuned for some nice pics of your humble nun!
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
There's a monthly lesbian night called Cherry at Re-bar that's going on as I type. It's the fourth Saturday, natch. [livejournal.com profile] imflying invited me to come along with her & her buds tonight, but I had to say no.

Why isn't a club-loving, gregarious, horny lesbian like me there, you ask? Because I had to pick either last night or tonight to stay over at the Abbey. I spent last night at Re-bar, more or less exhausted and not dancing to what was actually rather nice & danceable hip hop*. It was a night I knew, and I felt like something familiar & soon after a crappy week.

Ah, well, as [livejournal.com profile] imflying pointed out, there will be other months.
Consolation prize: watching Inside Job with my son. My thirteen-year-old son watches documentaries about finance & politics with me. That's pretty awesome.



*I think the DJ's pro name is Softcorners. Michael Manahan's the promoter, and therefore the guy who knows.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Got seized by an urge to Get Out Of The House at 10:00 last night. Ended up at Re-bar for the second time this weekend. I wasn't there last night for much more than an hour, but I think it was good for my soul. I can't help but smile when I see a bear with a blonde beard b-boying like a freak on the dance floor.

I figure the Sunday night Re-bar crowd is 75% cisgendered gay men, 20% cis straights (evenly divided by gender, of course), 4% cis lesbians, and 1% trans people. Yes, I've observed the preponderance of gay boys here before, but I never gave a breakdown of the rest until now.
I'm running out of people to squee in person to. Today's lunch victim companion describes me as "giddy". Yeah, that's just about right. I prefer to call it revoltingly cheerful, though. I may be at work after 10:30 PM, but I'm still smiling when I think about the last couple of months.

Luckily, there are a few MOOers and friends of MOOers who weren't at the [livejournal.com profile] nerdvana New Year's Eve party.
I haven't engaged in serious circumflatulation in a month. That's just a lowdown shame; no wonder I'm in a funk lately. At the rate I'm going, I'll be lucky to have the alterations done on my warm-weather clothes before I leave for Florida in April.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Now that I've had a good cry about my previous entry, it's time to post happy stuff again.

[livejournal.com profile] leenerella may have called it the Christmas Eve Eve party, but I call it the Party in the Big, Gorgeous House with My Favorite Peeps, Homemade Egg Nog, Other Weird and Tasty Alcohol, and Hot Women in Pretty Clothes, Some of Whom Are Known to Me to Be Bisexual. Ahem. Yes, I'm glad I went.

Re-bar was packed to the rafters last night. Kadeejah Streets + Ramiro Gutierrez = ♥. It was a surprisingly tech-y sound for a night run by an old (i.e., my age) hippie, namely Michael Manahan, but it was right on. Yes, hot women there too. Hormones, anyone?

Prep for my colonoscopy starts today. No fiber for you today, Miss Badguts.

. o O ( Mental note: Wish everybody a happy August 2nd when it arrives. )
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
But first: Shook my booty and sweated to Detroit house man Terrence Parker at Re-bar as I haven't in a long time. I'm not quite with it this morning, but it was totally worth it.

I got a call at 8:55 AM from the dude at the WA Dept. of Licensing. Dr. Shrink didn't fill in the name of his practice or his phone number. I've rectified this. (It took me three tries to get the email address right. I really should stop trying to use the Internet for anything serious when I'm decaffeinated.) I got mail back saying my application would be processed within five days. Maybe I'll have my license on Saturday; maybe I won't.

So, while my experience with the DoL on Friday wasn't that pleasant, today's was. Moral: Always check your shrink's work?
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Tribal is a new monthly that Michael Manahan, of whom I've written here many times, is putting on at Re-bar. I trust the guy not to suck, so natch, I went. As I was walking in the door, among the first as usual for me at techno events, five sweet young things, four female and one male, come in behind me in a group - wearing a whole lot of beads and feathered headdresses. 'Uh oh,' think I, 'This could be bad hippie s**t, as opposed to the good kind.' (Pace [livejournal.com profile] gement, the headdresses weren't close replicas of any Native American headdress that I know of.)

Happily, the music was right on. I danced more than I have in maybe a few months. Props to Rob Noble and a new one to me, Cybo. I actually didn't stay for Manahan's set because I'm too damn old Nibs wanted the car in the morning. Crowd? Big, slightly stinky (Duh.), and of not unfriendly.

Yes, the sweet things got things going early and occasionally had the stage to themselves. One of them had obvious belly dance training. I told her so when I ran into her at Re-bar's fabulous free water dispenser.
"Actually," she said, "I'm a professional dancer."
"Yeah. Damn."
"Thanks for noticing." And she smiled, squeezed my hand, and disappeared into the crowd.

Few things derange me more thoroughly than pretty, charming women who dance well. Of course I didn't get her name, even though we were at one point both outside where I can hear. I am totally going back to that night.
My cousin JL sent me a nice email last night. I haven't heard from her in ages, and I was delighted to write back. She could only have gotten the right address from her mother, who was one of the recipients of my last batch of letters.

Since I met Nibs, I've envied her close relationship with her cousins. Between geography and occasional ill feeling between my parents and their immediate families, I never saw much of mine. Now that I can be real about myself, I may fix that to the degree that I can.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
I was saved from not knowing what to do this weekend at the last minute (or what passes for last minute for me) twice: Riz's 20th anniversary in Seattle at Re-bar, and co-worker B's party.

Riz is a sweet, sweet man. I'd told him about my comings out and he congratulated me. "You look well," he said.
"I feel well," I said. I got to talk about my favorite subject, how and why to change sex, with his boyfriend husband John.

Riz introduced me to a couple, K & A, who'd met there twenty years ago. K pointed to the exact spot. He had blundered into a job at Re-bar shortly before they met. He told me that somewhere under the surface of the dance floor, in spray paint, is "K+A". Awwww!

Also from K, the Re-bar space has been a succession of bars continuously for almost 100 years. Several employees & owners of these establishments report seeing, well after hours when they're closing up, someone who doesn't quite exist. That's right: Re-bar is haunted. A young man from the 1970s - that space held gay or lesbian bars quite a while before it became Re-bar in the late 80s - and a woman from when the building was new.

Of the two founders of Re-bar, one still owns a different nightclub, and the other nearly drank himself to death, but got sober. K said the place has "grown up", but I think it's been owned since by people who also loved the idea of "a gay bar, only for everybody". Every city should have one.

My other deliverance from tedium was a text from B, who invited me to his place near the zoo. I finally saw things I'd only heard of on Texts From Last Night: beer pong and keg stands. A piñata full of candy, condoms, and lube. I finally made up for missing the ice luge at Das Haus. I didn't leave until 3:00. B and his girlfriend managed to put together a fantastic party, and they only decided to throw it yesterday afternoon. I envy them that ability.
sistawendy: (dolly)
  • Getting over my cold Friday & Saturday.
  • Artopia with m'boy. He loves the power tool races. They had more vendors & fewer art projects this year, which I found disappointing. Economic necessity, I suppose.
  • Fighting parade traffic with the ever-delightful [livejournal.com profile] kathrynt.
  • Getting the living daylights zapped out of my upper lip due to four weeks' regrowth. Ow.
  • Re-bar for the Flammable night, which happens every Sunday. It had been at least a couple of years since I'd been. Damn, I'd forgotten how good that night and its promoter & resident Brian Lyons are. Wall-to-wall queers, a friendly vibe, eye candy for all, and even a couple of ravers.


Next year for real, people. See you there!
sistawendy: (dolly)
But first: I'm typing at you from a Windows 7 machine. I upgraded from Vista, so I didn't need a clean install. It all went pretty smoothly; no data loss this time. The installer told me to uninstall a couple of McAffee features and deauthorize my computer for iTunes. (Apple wouldn't let me do the latter. Uh oh, they're getting to be more hassle than Microsoft.) After that, ninety minutes of crunching later it was done. IE8, VPN access, and switching users are noticeably faster.

Went to the new monthly called J4CK17 at Re-bar last night. OK, I was pleased to see the best female (including lesbian & trans?!) eye candy I've ever seen at Re-bar, but believe it or not I was there for the music. Must not fall for tall, blond, friendly, old-school chick J who I keep running into at techno things.

Travis Baron did the more fun & up tempo end of capital-T Techno. He has a predilection for breaks of tai chi music, but I can overlook that. Trench is all about the housified retro (even 1930s) sounds, and I loved it! Hi Octane started out with some of the less fun Aphex Twin, which is what drove me to leave for...

...the new yuppie hot dog joint Po Dog above our dear Mercury at 1009 E Union. $5.43 including tax gets you the large, kosher basic dog. I didn't even look at their more frightening fat delivery devices, but yes, [livejournal.com profile] domichan, they have veggie dogs. Their shtik: brioche buns. Rather tasty. Crowd? Strangely enough, it hadn't yet been overwhelmed by People in Black, but as you'd expect plenty of hipsters go out for hot dogs at 1:00 A.M. Nice decor.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Briefly grooved, but that was all it took to get my face shiny two or three times. Got let in sans cover for auld lang syne. Got fist bumped by a large black man; I choose not to take that as gender-specific. Good crowd, but when I asked the door dude where those people had been all this time, he said there was a high school reunion going on. Saw one (1) Space Virgin.
sistawendy: (weirded out)
At about the 1000 block of 140th Ave. NE on the west side of the street, there's an apartment complex with a pond. Lately it seems that on days when there are more ducks on the sidewalk side of the pond where I can see them easily, I get nibbled to death by ducks when I get to work.
Tonight Riz Rollins spins his last Friday night at Re-bar, which he's been doing since the early nineties. Nobody makes me feel the groove quite like he does, and he's a wonderful person. I'll be there, even if not for long. I don't know where he'll be found after that, but I hope he's got good things coming.

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