sistawendy: (smartass hester)
I've been wondering lately which is worse for the RSI in my wrist: vigorous, frequent jilling off, or the integrated, flat rectangular keyboards with chiclet keys that come with Macbooks? Evidently it's the latter. I have fancy new Kinesis Advantage keyboards at work and at home, but I've also been a bit... reckless otherwise. I'm feeling some ill effects, maybe - it's hard to get away from the chiclets completely - but nothing compared to months past.

This is good news, to say the least.
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
I've taken a few steps recently to combat repetitive strain injury:
  1. I now use a Kinesis Advantage2 keyboard at work. The layout is different enough from my old Microsoft Natural that I'm still climbing the learning curve after about a week. It may necessitate getting another one for home to prevent the hangover of switching back and forth.
  2. Not using any damn built-in laptop keyboards. I swear those things are a major problem. I do have an MS Natural at home, but until recently I was only using it on my work machine, not my personal one.
  3. Ahem. Jilling off about half as often as I used to, which means it's less time-consuming as well. Ah, the tribulations of sex reassignment surgery, as mine was called at the time.
So is all of this working? I think so, but it's a little bit soon to tell.
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
But first: work has eaten my whole weekend. It's actually a good thing I didn't go to Norwescon, because I would have missed most of it and been severely bummed out. I haven't even gone out to dinner this weekend, much less clubbing. That's how bad it's been. With any luck, though, I can make it to Flammable at Re-bar tonight; it's been a long time.

Back to the title of this entry! Some of you may recall my struggles in finding a vibrator that works for me. Chloe the Wevibe Nova showed promise, but broke a few weeks ago. I had to switch back to Inga the Swedish model, a Lelo Smartwand, which which I'd been unimpressed in the past.

I've revised my opinion of Inga. Usually orgasms are hard to come by when shot night is coming up; it's this coming Monday. Inga didn't get me off, but she seems to have sped proceedings up dramatically. That's a godsend because I'm feeling a little RSI in my right wrist, which usually happens when I work weekends.

What's the secret? Finding the right pattern (constant low rumbly) and position (holding Inga more or less vertically and not moving - that must look amusing).
sistawendy: (oh yeah)
It occurs to me that I had another first over the weekend: I used plastic wrap as barrier protection for oral sex, as first recommended to me by the Siberian Siren. It's cheaper and, in my opinion, less cumbersome than dental dams. By less cumbersome I mean less likely to block your nose or wander too far afield - you can control the size of your barrier if you're tearing it off a roll. Also, many dams are made of latex, so there are allergy issues to consider. What I really want, though, is a barrier that I can adhere to my upper lip and maybe cheeks so I don't have to keep using my hands to keep it in place.

You know you're doing well as a woman dating women if, like a certain girlfriend, you keep a roll of plastic wrap in your night stand. I'm not on her level, at least not yet.
sistawendy: (hand staple forehead)
Last night at the Tickler's was mostly lovely - fuck first, Itto's second, cuddling & sleep third. I feel like I owe her, but I'm not sure how to repay her. Read on for why.

You all knew that it takes a lot of work for me to have an orgasm. That isn't the only issue. )
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: (contemplative red)
Dropped off stuff at Goodwill for my ex, dropped stuff off at her place, had exactly one lovely stiff drink and chats with my People in Black at the nearby chez [ profile] morthael & [ profile] icprncs. After all these years, I may finally learn some of the geography of the south end of Seattle.

M'boy was with his mother last night, so I was at loose ends. Fortunately, it's Burner party season, and my old camp mates the Space Virgins were doing a fund raiser with Camp Conception. It was all you'd expect: day glow, black lights, righteous house from Jayson Spaceotter*, reusable cups, nice eye candy in a wide range of ages, and a giant Buddha's head above the door. I commiserated about the ticket situation with a man in spandex and some serious fetish boots - envied by many women. I met an adorable and queer-seeming woman from Camp Conception who seemed, well, really pretty awesome. And then her girlfriend showed up, and lots of the usual dyke public handsiness and snogs ensued. Le sigh. I dunno, though; there seems to be a whole gang of queer women who are part of Conception. Younger, of course, but since when have I let that stop me? Bizarrely, I've never made it to their camp on the playa.

A note on the venue: the party was in a light industrial space down in Sodo only a block from Studio 7, the only club in Seattle where the staff has hassled be for being trans. No, that's no longer legal in Seattle, but it may have been at the time. I gave Studio 7 the finger from afar.

I must be feeling better, because I suddenly can't sleep worth a damn without enough exercise - my usual condition - and I'm horny as all get-out. Speaking of horny, Inga still hasn't fulfilled her promise, but I don't think that's her fault. MBSOs, like all orgasms, remain 90% mental. And shot day is tomorrow.

*He remembers me from Riz's old Friday nights at Re-bar; I don't remember him from then. I got recognized by people I don't remember two or three other times last night. I appear to be a Fixture on the Scene, hopefully an electrical fixture and not plumbing.
sistawendy: (weirded out)
My son asked me last night, "Have you ever heard of a musician called Prince?" Clearly I'd neglected his musical education, so I remedied that right away. Oddly enough, I used to be way more into Prince than I am now. I annoyed grad school housemates with how much I played him. He wasn't my culture hero - for that matter, neither was Bowie, as you could reasonably expect - but he brought the Funk to rock like no one else, and that was why I loved him. I gather that he managed that in part though successfully fighting the music industry's racism. What the old white guys running the industry did to Nile Rodgers in the '70s Prince did to them in the '80s. Sweet, funky karma.
Heaven help me. I've paid for OKCupid and gotten back on the horse with dating sites in general. I guess running into M at Hot Flash Inferno affected me more than I thought. Sure, I have women I'm dating, but do I have someone I can call when I'm feeling down? No. Am I living alone? Yes, except for the lumpy teenager behind me. Q.E.D.

I suppose that if I do find Ms. Right, the kiddo's living situation is going to get changed again. He may or may not be genuinely thrilled about that. So far it hasn't been as bad as I expected. He'll usually do what he's told, but he must be told, and he often does it wrong. So far he isn't making good use of his quarter off school.
ETA: I gave Inga the big, black Lelo Smart Wand her first serious use last night. The results weren't mind-blowing, but they were the most promising of any vibe I've used to date. In Inga's defense I must say that I quit early due to ick-induced fatigue. Clearly more research is needed.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Three days between updates is long for me, but once again I got a bit busy.

Friday: Worked late, snarfed kid, felt woozy from crud, collapsed in bed and slept for nine hours.

Saturday: Spent some of that cash I've come into lately: Replaced the gladiator sandals I trashed last year, got the 100K service on the Sanctimobile, and picked up a large, black Lelo Smart Wand. I have yet to truly put that last to the test. For the sake of my right hand and my son's sleep, I hope it does the trick. So hey, it was all stuff I needed, more or less.

Had dinner for the first time in a while with the Siberian Siren. She's been working like a fiend on her real estate venture; it may have been the least sexy dinner with her ever, but that's still not bad. She had this to say about using the money coming to me to buy a residence: don't, for at least a couple of years. The market around here is too hot right now. I think I'll have an easy time following that advice.

The SS also had a... disturbing take on my son's punkitude. She thinks I need to put the "fear of Jesus"* into my son; from her, she points out, threats to send children to Siberia aren't idle. As hair-tearingly frustrated as I am with the Wendling, I'm philosophically opposed to fear-based parenting. For now.

Went to one of the Hot Flash Inferno nights, and ran into fellow trans woman M, whom I saw a fair amount of when I first started living as a woman. Her career is in the dumps, her love life isn't happening, and she's in her sixties now. I'm kinda fuckin' terrified that she is my future.

So I left early for the Merc, which wasn't as lively as I might have hoped. At least I got to raise my spirits by scratching a lovely lady, good and hard, as well has her boyfriends. Hat tip to [ profile] seelenschwester for playing CHVRCHES at the Merc.

Today: Napped. Found excuses to walk in the glorious sunshine. Dreading trying to find space in my little lake place for all of my son's stuff after dinner, which I now need to cook.

*You'd never guess the SS isn't a native speaker of English until she gets a rare idiom not quite right.
sistawendy: (hopeful nun)
Last night was the last I shall see of the Abbey. I did one last bit of paperwork, loaded some of Ex's stuff into the car of her friend who didn't realize she'd been drafted into hauling, and put a bunch of my son's haphazardly-packed things in the Sanctimobile and took him over the (new!) bridge to the Lake Place, there to stay for a while.* Ex gave me a bunch of food that I did need for m'boy, but she also kept trying to give me random food items that I don't know what to do with while I was light-headed and achy from some kind of crud. "I don't cook. I don't like to," I said testily. Well, the long-term presence of my son in my apartment is going to force me to cook if I don't want to feel like a shit parent.

I got m'boy up with me at 0710 (I check email first thing at 0700), got him to eat breakfast, and took him downtown on the bus with me. Sure, I had to remind him to do things like close cabinet doors and clean up after breakfast, but thus far - all of twelve hours - his punkitude has not been as bad as expected.

Over the weekend, I have move-related things to do:
  • Show the Wendling how to replace his inner tube.
  • Make a run to hazmat disposal with Ex's stuff.
  • Unpack the kiddo's books. I'm looking forward to this the least.
  • Split up the phone account that Ex & I still share.
  • Make a new will.
On an unrelated note, masturbation can be fun. )

*In theory a year minus the weekends, but he's going to get tired of the cramped quarters and long commute long before then. I give him three months, outside.
sistawendy: (skeptic coy Gorey tilted down)
M'boy lost his phone for the umpteenth time a couple of days ago, only to find it last night under a towel.
Me: Where is your phone supposed to go when you're not using it?
Wendling: On my bookshelf.
Me: Was the towel on your bookshelf?
W: ...
Me: Uh huh.
W: It was an accident!
Me: It was carelessness, [Wendling]. There's a difference.
W: It was an accident! They just happened.
Me: It was easily preventable.
The dude cannot. Accept. Responsibility. For even his own (important and not difficult) stuff. This is worrisome and it needs to stop. Good grief, the boy he can vote now.

Sure, I get that he's tired of his parents et al. riding him all the time. But that won't stop until he gets it together.
Picked up the Siberian Siren from the airport last night as arranged yesterday afternoon. She'd just come back from a few days in L.A., which she loves. She's even talking about setting up shop down there, now that she's in the middle of moving into a new place near Capitol Hill station* with her nearly-new sweetie. I told her that she is not allowed to move down there on a permanent basis, but she tends to get stuff done. I wouldn't be surprised if the City of Angels, someday soon, doesn't know what hit it.

She congratulated me on my MBSOs,** saying that I'm more lesbian than she is in this respect. As flattering as that may be, I had to tell her that I have the apparently unfair advantage of a prostate, or as [ profile] ionan put it, a P-spot.

It occurs to me that I'd love to take some of the Siren's abundance of executive function and give it to my son. Le sigh.

*Opening 1Q2016. Aw, yeah. I can take the train from right next to work to the SS, Funny Lady, assorted queer spots, Lambert House, my spiritual home, etc.
**Mind-blowing squirty orgasms. Aw, yeah.
sistawendy: (flirty hippy)
A lovely evening with trans kids ("youth", officially) at Lambert House Monday night. [ profile] staxxy recently told me that transitioning had given me more self-confidence. I see the way I used to be in a lot of the trans youngsters, and I hope things improve for them, or rather that they improve things for themselves. I will lend them a cup of zero fucks whenever they need it. And in the meantime I will remind the director that we need to crunch numbers for the quarterly report for the local governments that fund us. What would that man do without me? Freak out, that's what.

MBSOs* apparently don't happen when I'm not feeling well, regardless of how recently I've injected girl 'roids. Now that I am feeling well, they're back and they're fabulous. Good to know.

Speaking of feeling well, I just got my flu shot. This is the last time I can claim to be doing that for my immune-suppressed wife, not that it isn't a good idea anyway.

Der Plan for the weekend:
  • Friday, The Place With No Liquor License with, I hope, a few Queefs. I'll ask one of my lady friends to come, but I'm not optimistic.
  • Saturday, a party for a certain numerically round birthday.
  • Later Saturday, a night out at Lo-Fi with several lady co-workers, including the CEO, whose idea it was.
This weekend cannot fail to be fun.

I wore gloves and wool socks today. Fall has fallen. Just eight months and seven days until the summer solstice!

*Mind-blowing squirty orgasms.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
  1. My vibrator. It took a couple of uses, but I think I'm ready to marry it now. Thanks, [ profile] elspethdemina! Gotta love setting #6. I don't regret a penny of the $73 (with CSPC member discount).
  2. On Wednesday night I went to the more-or-less monthly Carpet SampLEZ confab. Yes, I was easily the oldest one there, but I had a lovely time anyway. I also ran into somebody who was at the Bang. I hate to admit it, but Facebook is useful in such situations by virtue of the size of its user base.
  3. I put m'boy on the plane to Washington, D.C. last night. He's going with his temple youth group. As somebody who's seriously into the news, I hope he'll really get something out of going where so much of it is made. He'll get to see my Good Sister, but not his cousins; Nibs exchanged email with her about that already.
  4. I have a first date tomorrow night. She set up what I think was a phone screen last night. I apparently passed.
  5. My feature might, just might, ship next week. Good thing, too, because I have training on Thursday & Friday next week.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
I got to introduce two friends who cosmically needed to meet each other: [ profile] elspethdemina and [ profile] gement. [ profile] elspethdemina is the sex toy maven extraordinaire with a pressing business need to make the porn section at her place d'emploi, Wild at Heart, easier to find things in. [ profile] gement has a degree in library science.

Even a relative innocent like me knows that porn comes in many, many flavors. (Ixnay on the oke-jays.) These flavors even come in many flavors, which [ profile] gement prefers to call facets: ethnicity, body type, gender, publisher, etc., etc. Porn customers are often interested in only a tiny subset of the flavors, so helping them find that subset is a real money spinner.

Said [ profile] gement, with that many facets, hardcopy catalogs as [ profile] elspethdemina originally envisioned aren't going to cut the mustard. You have lots of facets with porn, so you'd need many thick binders. Ergo, you'd end up with something we in the software industry call unmaintainable.

The solution is 'pooters, said our esteemed librarian. Old junk would suffice, but [ profile] elspethdemina says it would be difficult to prevent even the oldest and junkiest of junk from being stolen. I can't help but wonder if that would be a problem if her store were in a better location or her bosses weren't idjits who insist on making it easy to steal stuff. We didn't come up with a solution on the spot, but what they both said made sense.

quote of the night )

[ profile] gement and I agree that [ profile] elspethdemina is the awesomest of sauces.

Icing: I got to take [ profile] gement home and measure em for a costume afterward.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
I stopped by Wild at Heart in Ballard on the way home last night to ask sex toy maven [ profile] elspethdemina a question that had been rolling around my mind for months: which vibrator should I get? At the rate my dating life is going, or rather isn't, a vibrator is a plan.

She asked me something like, "What works best with trans women's girl parts?"
"Aw shoot," I replied. "I was going to ask you the same thing."
She said that her lack of trans woman-specific information is because there aren't enough trans women reviewing vibrators. Maybe I can help her out a little.

Undaunted, she asked me just how sensitive I am in my (neo)vagina. Not very. In that case, she said, I should stick to something meant for external use. Very sensible.

Also, I've never owned a real* vibrator before, so I don't really know what works for me in terms of type or pattern of vibration. Therefore, she said I should get something with settings, many settings. The variety of pulse patterns available out there, many of which she demonstrated, is laughably large. Those must have been fun to design and program.

She sternly but needlessly reminded me not to get a vibrator that was made out of nasty materials with phthalates in them. I remember her previous lecture on the subject - two and a half hours - quite well.

Some vibes are shaped for use on both wide and narrow areas. Some are designed for portability. Some are designed to minimize noise.

I didn't buy one yet, having blown my budget for this month on a Bang for the Buck ticket, but rest assured, a good vibe shall be mine. And I shall buy it from [ profile] elspethdemina.

Prices of the vibes she showed me: $50-$110, plus tax.

(I have this nagging sense that I forgot something important. No matter. I've just about made up my mind.)

*I did win a finger vibe in a raffle once. Not my cup of tea.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
It was a relatively quiet weekend: m'boy stayed over. He came up with the rather good idea of a trip to the Museum of Flight, which we hadn't been to in about three years. He remembered the German V-1 ("buzz bomb") from World War II that the MoF has, but it wasn't on display.

It's fascinating to me that he remembered and missed that one exhibit. I asked him why, but of course he couldn't tell me. He's never been the space nut that I've always been, so I have a lot of fun explaining to him all about the Mars probes, the space station, the Soviet program to put a man on the moon, etc. with the museum's many visual aids. I wore him out.

He didn't surf any porn this time because I was in the room while he used the 'pooter. Neither did he do homework, but I see nothing wrong with letting him spend Saturday night surfing Wikipedia. I used to do that kind of thing when I was his age (and still do), only I had a dead-tree edition of Encyclopedia Britannica.
I haven't yet replicated Thursday night's (ahem) success. I'll just have to keep trying.
This coming week promises to be eventful. Watch this space.
sistawendy: (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
good news about post-op orgasms under here )
And in other good news, I've figured out how to get a decent night's sleep: leave a window open for a few hours before bedtime to keep the temperature down, and don't wear socks to bed. I slept the sleep of the just. Of course, the above probably helped, too.
sistawendy: (stern nun)
Remember my previous entry, wherein I talk about the dangers of cheap, nasty sex toys as learned from [ profile] elspethdemina? Last night was my regularly scheduled Lambert House volunteer night. After a smashing trans support group facilitated by yours truly, I spread the gospel of safer toys to youth & (adult) volunteers alike. Double karma score!

I expected the grownups to know a lot of that stuff because I'm so good at being out of the loop, but neau. I may have done more immediate good by telling the people who have the money for toys right now.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
I went to pick some stuff up at [ 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 [ 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 [ 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 [ profile] cupcake_goth and her Stunt Husband couldn't join us.
sistawendy: (butterfly)
I spent part of last night at the Mercury talking with another MTF transsexual about the sex lives of MTFs. Basically, she said, if you're interested in women and you're pre-op, you're screwed out of luck unless you're attracted to other transsexuals. This wasn't news to me; it matches my own observations and really, as unpleasant as that is for us pre-ops, it makes perfect sense. If lesbians were OK with even a dysfunctional natural penis, they wouldn't quite be lesbians.

Bottom line: presentation matters with everyone. I gotta do what I gotta do to get the Grand Snip and otherwise look female, and that doesn't bother me one bit. What's cruel is that the large majority of MTFs don't have the same advantages I do.

Oh, and I'm sorry to say that even some transsexuals tell canards about bisexuals. I guess you and we get to fight it out for next-to-last in the hierarchy of queerdom, and heaven help anyone who's a member of both groups.
Speaking of presentation, I spent four hours today in Tacoma getting zappy. I even had lunch with Ms. Zappy in the middle of it. A week from today we're doing a six-hour session. Basicaly, I'm doing this to cut down on time & money spent going to Tacoma, plus Ms. Zappy's prices are going up next year.
PTA excitement continues for "conference week" (parents taking over the school during parent-teacher conferences). Before you tell me I'm out of my cotton pickin' mind, let me point out a few things:
  • Nibs & I are collectively required to put in thirty hours of time with the PTA.
  • Nibs didn't contribute much last year, and between her health and her recent success in finding work I don't expect her to contribute much this year either.
  • No one else stepped forward, and time is of the essence. I was a footsoldier for conference week last year, so I was the best freak for the job.
  • I'm also the best freak for the job because they need someone who can drive a computer to automate scheduling: there are multiple activities going on the whole time. Students pick the ones they want on a first come-first served basis, and it's up to us to prevent conflicts and keep the activities within capacity.

From the Dept. of Heh: my landlord is a drummer in a jazz band. In the garage, to which I have no key, he has a soundproofed practice room with two drum kits that he rents out. Surely some of you can use that information.

(How do I know this if I have no key? I borrowed housemate M2's. I was looking for pliers.)


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