sistawendy: (wtf laughing)
I got word from [profile] rigel_p that she'd be in town this week. She has family & friends in the area, so she decided to go eclipse viewing with some of them. The esteemed wyvern* is something of a celebrity, especially to people who know her, which means everyone including me wants a piece of her whenever she's here. So I was honored that after a couple of tries she carved out ninety minutes to have ginger beer with me to talk about work, dating, m'boy (She shares one of his mental quirks to a lesser degree, so I consider her advice invaluable), and all kinds of geeky stuff. She says the "'80s rock star" look that I'm wearing right now** suits me.

After seeing her off, I was hungry and found myself surrounded by a preponderance of restaurants on Pike & Pine halfway up the Hill. So I stopped in Kizuki for old school non-instant ramen and a beer. There was a line to get a table, but the food & service are right on. A+ would slurp again. Three of the staff said "Thank you" in Japanese on the way out, and I noticed that only the Asian girl used the (correct in that situation, I believe) perfect tense.

I could have jumped on an 11 and gotten downtown faster, but there was someone cute walking toward me, so I headed for the train. On the way I passed Stumptown Coffee, which has closed at that location. The Elder Goths reading this will remember that as the location of Aurafice, where goffee (i.e. Goth coffee) happened on Wednesday nights early this century and spilled out onto the sidewalk. I found myself wondering, and not for the first time, what it would take to make something like that happen again. The Board is long gone; could the local Goth Facebook groups provide adequate publicity? I'd have to see that to believe it, and it would still need an organizer, I think. We elders*** have things like kids and demanding jobs and big creative projects these days, not to mention residences far from the Hill so we can afford them. No, if anything like that ever happens again, it'll be a younger generation that makes it happen, probably, as much as I'd like to think otherwise.



*Her long-ago MOO character, as mine was a depraved nun.
**SFDs: Purple Bombsheller leggings, black nearly-sleeveless top with my heavy metal belt, Fluevog Truth Alisons, relatively subdued mostly MAC makeup. Yes, I dressed kind of sexy for her. Shaddup.
***I'm a Janey-come-lately to the scene, relatively, but let's face it: I can remember Watergate.
sistawendy: (wtf laughing)
I am wearing long sleeves, a high collar, leggings, wool blend socks, and a long, heavy skirt in complete comfort in the middle of June. Ah, Seattle.

The weather was so lovely on Sunday that I walked about five miles to get stuff (water treatment tablets, a parking pass) for Critical. That was in addition to my usual six miles of biking. I slept really well that night, which leads me to the unwelcome conclusion that if I want to sleep adequately, I need to exercise like a mofo. I'd be fine with that if it weren't so time-consuming.

Speaking of Critical, I started drying food last night. I'm relieved that I'm only spending four nights there - less drying needed - even if that'll make it harder to find a place to pitch my tent. I have to say, though, that I'm not feeling nearly as psyched as I do for a Burn. If I'm lucky, lower expectations will enhance the experience.

Something about driving far into the desert feels like a pilgrimage to me. I kind of feel sorry for the people who approach from the south, i.e. most of them; it's more crowded.
sistawendy: (drama)
I took Brown Eyes to the opening of the Seattle Erotic Art Festival last night. But before I get into that, I had a little technological scare.

As I was checking my coat* and messing with my evening bag, out of the corner of my eye I noticed that I'd accidentally activated the send-handwriting-by-SMS mode on my iPhone, which I didn't know existed. I didn't think twice about it until about a minute later when it seemed that my phone was completely bricked; the screen wouldn't turn on. This was about twenty minutes before Brown Eyes was due to arrive, and I had visions of her texting me and getting miffed at my lack of response; it could have been worse, but still, suboptimal timing. I spent the rest of the night with a bricked phone, but I plugged it into the charger anyway. This morning it's right as rain.

But! Brown Eyes arrived without incident, we got in & got drinks, and like, totally saw all the art. Notable trends this year: a lot of works featuring children. Maybe it's a parent thing, but BE & I were both a little squicked. Also a relative abundance of depictions of cutty things (which freaks me out) and poky things (which doesn't, as much). They did have one retrospective section which had a couple of faves from SEAFs past. I got to show Brown Eyes a little of what she missed; she'd never been before. The eye candy of the ambulatory variety was as fine as ever - I wish I looked that good in latex - if not as densely packed as I've seen it in the past. I dunno; maybe everybody decided to go tonight instead of last night.

My favorite piece, at least for most of the night (Foreshadowing!) was "Obsession" by Olga Zavershinskaya. Lots of red in a beautifully and meticulously composed photo that speaks to, well, a lot of my desires. At $750, I seriously considered buying a print.

From the Dept. of Be Careful What You Wish For: There's a younger lady, K, whom I've met out & about. I confess to first approaching her because she appeals to my weakness for a certain physical type: she's from Iran, speaking of brown eyes. As my date & I were taking a load off for a minute, K firmly informed me that I needed to come to one of her regular get-togethers at her place, which usually coincide with either Lambert House or dinner with m'boy. She mentioned that she has a trans friend who just started to transition a few months ago, so I may go out of a sense of trans duty. K herself is... intense, perceptive, and probably straight. (She was there with a much older fella.) She has interesting things to say about the difference between how sexism manifests in the US (objectification) vs. Iran (paternalism). She says playing dumb works way better for women here than in Iran.

Toward the end of the evening, Brown Eyes and I had one more look at "Obsession" because I liked it so much, but then something occurred to me.
"Wait a minute. Those hands on her aren't hers, are they?" I asked Brown Eyes.
"Nope." The hands in question, resting on her rib cage with splayed fingers, looked distinctly masculine.
"Fuck that! That's heteronormative. I'm not buying it. I just talked myself out of spending $750!"

I hadn't slept well the night before, and informed BE that as much as I'd love for her to take advantage of me, I might be pretty useless despite my prior consumption of strong tea & yerba mate. She said it was OK, she'd had a tough day full of doctor's appointments. In fact, she'd been quiet the whole evening because, she said, she'd been preoccupied with her upcoming surgery. Aw. I hope I showed her a good time. I think she needed one.



*My leather jacket, to go with my Acres of Dead Cow outfit - over the knee Fluevogs, pencil skirt, bra, opera gloves, all black leather - as requested by Brown Eyes.
sistawendy: (flirty hippy)
This has been the weekend of minor things going wrong, and Just Dealing With Them:
  1. M'boy needed my help to close his savings account that we opened when he was a minor. I ended up leaving my driver's license in the bank branch at the other end of Seattle, near Ex's. Good thing my passport is valid: I used it to get into the Mercury last night. (More about which shortly.) I got to try out Lyft for the first time too - I nuked Uber for awful labor practices and its support of 45.
  2. My bathroom sink backed up right before I needed to put on makeup for said trip to the Mercury. Drāno works great if you let it work overnight. Ahem.
  3. I didn't have time to put sheets on my bed before I left last night.
  4. Right before I left for dinner with [personal profile] m_cobweb & co. I found out that I have a flat tire. Luckily, m'boy won't be using the car until at least Tuesday, and truth be told he can cope without it.
  5. Stuff broke at work last night. I was on call, but I was also on a date. I didn't get alerted, so somebody else found the problem and took care of it. I'm not sure whether that's bad or not.
Speaking of that date I keep alluding to, I took Brown Eyes to the Mercury for date #2. She hadn't been since about 2001. It was all pretty lovely: we have gabfests when we're together, and I introduced her to gimlets. There was ahem. (Hey, at least we did our making out off the dance floor.) We went back to her place, which is a mother-in-law apartment in a house owned by an old lesbian artist on Beacon Hill. (The exterior of the house and especially the back yard, by the way, look fantastic.) There were some really good times had, but not a lot of sleep. I confess to feeling a little pang of 'Awww' when she mentioned how much she likes living alone, but I fink she freaky and I like her a lot. We have... much in common.

Oh yeah: she drove me home to the north end, and took me out to Blue Star for a badly needed and quite tasty breakfast. That's right: I walked into a breakfast joint in Wallingford wearing a sheer top, corset, short skirt, red fishnets, and Fluevog heels with leather laces up the back. No makeup, though, because what Brown Eyes didn't kiss off me I'd removed. I did notice one white-bearded gent giving me a good stare.

Did my usual morning workout, got my apartment put back together, and crashed. Was late for [personal profile] m_cobweb, about which I'm not proud. However, the owner of the late, lamented Night Kitchen was there. I got to tell her about how a bunch of us ate there the first night of my new life as a woman. She loved that story. She also drove me home (!) when she found out I would have otherwise had a really long bus ride.* I kind of wondered what she was doing after the Night Kitchen closed, and the answer is, embarking on a tech career. I wish her all happiness; she brought much happiness to her customers, including me.



*The 41 from Lake City, near Seattle's northeast corner, all the way downtown, and thence to an E, which goes back north up the middle to my place. Stoopit, right? About the only east-west routes in the north end are the ones going to the UW, and they don't intersect with the 41.
sistawendy: (drama)
(Another sort of trans-related question: If you're a woman, can you go stag? Or do you have to go doe?)

Temptress postponed on me yesterday, and Much Younger Woman hurt her back pretty badly, which I didn't find out until I was about to pick her up to go dancing. Le sigh.

But go dancing I did, at the Shameless crew's annual Valentine's Day party. Headliners Smash TV, zwei Menschen auf Deutschland, brought cool, solid groove. Honorable mentions to Joe Bellingham & Orqid.

There was a surprising number of stunning and stunningly dressed women there. I saluted the corset-wearer with the Nice Boots, like you do. Happiness is when one of them, who's exactly your type and wearing shiny tight pants, comes up to you to ask about your outfit and be adorable. My SFDs: lace-trimmed black long sleeve blouse, purple & black lacy skirt from Mishu, black patent Docs, MAC makeup.

But the real score here was the venue, an art & event space in an out-of-the-way corner of Sodo. I do believe I may have found a venue for my 50th birthday. It's a newish building with soaring ceilings and black, Gothy chandeliers, and it's the perfect size with easy parking & transit access. It's not as posh as that other place in Sodo that I was looking at, and would definitely involve more DIY on my part, but I kind of fell in love with the vibe. I talked to M, the lady in charge, courtesy of an introduction from former co-worker B of zentai suit fame who was down from Canada. (Synchronicity, no?) M is a former (?) raver and working artist who hosts a lot of art events, art education events, and the odd private party. She said my date shouldn't be a problem. I've already asked her for particulars. I haven't put her name or the name of her space here because she expressed a concern about too much publicity.

Yeah, I know the Republicans are out to get me, not to mention most of the guests at any party I might throw. I'm running out of fucks, though, and I should have the cash and time to pull this off.

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: (mad woman)
I had the ultimate cheap date with the Islander Friday night: pho just a few blocks from my place and snobby beer across the street. (This possibility is a major reason why I ♥ Seattle, and my 'hood in particular.) We didn't go that late because she's having health issues. We're talking health issues that require an MRI; I could see that she'd replaced her labret with something that isn't ferromagnetic. She apologized for not being, well, all that ready for action lately. As much as I'm all about the action, I just wanted to hug her and tell her it's OK, because it is. Shoot.

Yesterday was nuclear social reaction.

Thing 1: a certain monthly gathering in the south end featuring [livejournal.com profile] morthael's murderously tasty cocktails and [livejournal.com profile] icprncs's addictive cheese shortbread. And Goths looking all fancy! I felt a tad underdressed in my LBD, velvet leopard print leggings, and stompy 'Vogs. Just the ticket.

Thing 2: former co-worker E threw a birthday-and-housewarming party also (mercifully) in the south end. The house is lovely; E & her fella are huge comic book fans, and their art and book collections nearly fill that house, which has plenty of room for two. E put a ton of effort into the baked goods; it was a pity that I maxed out at the other party. There were even queer-looking women, but I was a good girl, not least because I was tired. I went to bed on time last night, which has been a disturbing trend lately. I blame the cold weather.

Resolved: I shall not look at Twitter today because it will freak me out, and I have a date - on a school night, no less - with the Tickler tonight. Speaking of action, I promised her a good time after freaking out in her arms last time, so I'm determined not to mess this up.

One more thing: Yesterday was my sixth Rebirthday. I can't believe I didn't post about it. OK, I can, because housework and socializing ate my day. And I've had other things on my mind, of course. I have heard one tale of a trans woman de-transitioning for her own safety from the Trumpies. Would I do that? Could I, even? Never. Never, never, never.
sistawendy: (taco madonna)
But first: My company has a tradition whereby everybody dresses up the day before Thanksgiving. Since this year has destroyed the last of my fucks, I wore one of my favorite cold weather club outfits to work: long, silvery grey skirt; violet corset; black velvet top with dolmen sleeves.

The real action, though, was yesterday. For the first time ever, I hosted a Thanksgiving dinner. It was also the first time I roasted a turkey, and unfortunately you could tell: I remembered to add water, but I forgot to baste it even though I'd carefully placed the butter next to the stove for that purpose1. Those breasts were pretty dry, but everyone said the legs were a-OK. Also by me: fresh cranberry sauce - so easy, so tasty - and fancy kale & farro salad using a PCC's Methow Valley recipe2.

It's a good thing there were only six of us, and not seven as had looked possible at one point. I only have half a dozen each of dinner & luncheon plates. I don't have enough chairs, but I managed to bum one off Ex in advance3. My lake place is a one-bedroom apartment of under 600 square feet, so it was, as real estate agents say, cosy. Nevertheless, I had a fabulous time, and I think everyone else did too.

Do I still miss the bigger Goth Thanksgivings of yore? Wayell, yes, but that isn't to say that last night's guests aren't lovely people. If my living space were about double its actual size I could maybe fit the whole gang in here. Sadly, that is not to be for now.

Oh yeah: ravey playlist because hey, it's me. If this event recurs I should call it the Graver Spinoff Thanksgiving.

Speaking of ravey, I prodded Funny Lady into doing her usual post-Thanksgiving dancing at Neighbours, the skeeviest gay bar in Seattle. Turnout wasn't great - last minute, election funk, foul weather, whatever - and there were no hot queer makeouts this time, but seeing Funny Lady is always a joy. And I did get to meet a couple of new (to me) queer ladies. For perhaps the first time ever, the music at Neighbours wasn't lowest common denominator; it actually didn't suck. All of us were amazed!



1I made sure to get sufficient quality & quantity of wine. That may have had something to do with it.
2I did not succeed brilliantly in getting Goths to eat their vegetables. Harrumph. More fabulous salad for me, thank you very much, plus a ton of chopped greens to put in a scramble or something.
3She & m'boy are in California right now with her family. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to introduce him to my friends and teach him how to make cranberry sauce.
sistawendy: (dolly)
The work week was harrowing enough that I had a serious social jones despite the predicted foul weather all weekend. After a brief but happy stop at [livejournal.com profile] ionan & J's - fashionista J is giving me ideas about what to wear to my 50th birthday party in 15 months - I hit the Merc, somewhat underdressed for the theme they had going, but still wearing something decently Victorian-esque*. I met a lady. She's almost exactly my age. She's cute. She's OK with snogging girls**. I shall call her Gnome for a reason known only to me. We have a mutual friend. She asked for my number. I think I shall pursue this.

I went to the party for the Polegasm and Conception theme camps last night because Grenade invited me and I (ahem) really wanted to see her again. It was a lovely little Burner party in a venue that had somehow escaped my notice: the Fremont Abbey, a former church that is now a performing art and events space. Alas, I ran out of gas before midnight and jumped on a 5 home, only to find out that Grenade had arrived shortly after I left. Murphy's Law, ne?

Today: enough sleep, a 90-minute zappy session that got everything***, and laundry of course.



*Long black steampunky skirt from Mishu, fitted black high-collared blouse from [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth? It was, to tell you the truth, the same thing I wore to work on Tuesday. I kept telling people that was a secret.
**And by girls I mean yours truly. Duh.
***Yay!
sistawendy: (dolly)
Ethiopian dinner at Meskel with Funny Lady. Ate too much because Meskel is delish, told every '16 Burn story I could remember, and relaxed just enough. I really like hanging out with FL. I think I finally managed not to get out-dressed by her. I decided to go go-go:

Not my usual look.

Dress: by Desigual, from the boutique across from the Tin Shed restaurant in Portland. I bought it on the way back from Burning Man. Boots: new Fluevog Jillians. (How fortunate for me that [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth doesn't like them. They're way more my style than hers.) Yes, they were 40% off, but my quota of one pair per year is now used up until 2018. I'm pretty sure I have a shoe problem now. And that problem is that I'm out of space for them in my closet.
Speaking of Burning Man-related events, Seacompression isn't happening this year because nobody could be bothered to run it. Le sigh. There is, however, a Burners Without Borders thingy at the old Rainier brewery. Have ticket, will show.
sistawendy: (drama)
The other day I ran out of butter and, due to Burning Man prep, ran low on fridge space. This meant I finally had to break down and get a butter dish. Luckily, I live a short walk from the Purple Store, which had just the thing. I got to talking with one of the owners, whom I recognize from [livejournal.com profile] nerdvana. (Pity I can't remember his name.) I'd noticed a land use sign on the building. He says he & his partners are in a race to buy the place so they can keep operating for a few years and then redevelop it, and do I know anyone in commercial real estate? I know someone in residential real estate: the Siberian Siren. I have duly contacted her.

He also had some info on the St. Germain Temple, which is housed in a nifty old 1920s movie theater next to his business. Yeah, it's a cult, and he confirmed my suspicion that they only use the place on Sunday afternoons. He said, "But they're funded, they're endowed."
"So they're not going anywhere," I said.
"Nope. It's one of the most underused spaces in the city."
That an almost criminal waste in a city with a real estate market like ours. That place cries out to be a live music venue in a part of the city that can be, well, a bit dull. Grrr!
Speaking of the Siberian Siren texted me last night asking, "Are you still planning to go to the Merc?"
Uh, I don't remember saying I was, but going to the Merc with the prettiest woman in the club? Shyeah! Go with the flow!

So yeah, it was a nice, low-key night. I didn't wear much due to the warm weather; it's fortunate that Broadway & Madison isn't a hub of pedestrian activity. The SS can be a terrible flirt, which I'm sure is one reason why I like her so much. Watching her in action gives me inner nyuks.

SFDs: MAC everything makeup, camisole, black & red corset, black mesh skirt, red fishnets, black thong, Fluevog Konas. It was the first time I'd worn heels in months and I'm happy to report that I'm not crippled.
Time to retrieve my dozen hard-boiled eggs.
sistawendy: (flirty hippy)
I took yesterday off for circumflatulation, but was sabotaged by a faraway anonymous douchebag who didn't return the rental equipment I needed1. Then we had a major network outage at work, and despite my technically taking the day off, I helped deal with it because self-preservation.

So you can imagine my relief at getting dressed to dance2 and getting picked up by the Tickler for bougie Mexican just up the ridge from my place, girly drinks, tales of the Tickler's freaky exploits at Frolicon, and a lovely walk up & down Greenwood Ave. I'm pretty sure I've convinced her that Phinney is phabulous.

Then dancing at Substation. Righteous groove was had. It was a Uniting Souls3 night, and I saw people there in Dirtybird (SF) t-shirts. Wonderful things about queer dates:
  • You can be those tacky girls who make out and do mean things to each other on the dance floor.
  • You can flash your bethonged butt at your date in the bathroom, no problem.
  • You can be dirty old women together and ogle the cute girl in the tall boots & taller feather headdress, or the insanely hot tall, young Gothy brunette with the sexy dance moves. We followed her as she went outside to cool off at least once. "You think she knows we're checking her out?" asked the Tickler. "She must," I said.
No dirty hippies this time4, for which the Tickler was even more grateful than I was.

Postscript: This morning was one of the very few mornings when my son was awake and dressed before I even rolled out of bed. He got treated to the site of me shuffling to the bathroom in my usual t-shirt and the aforementioned thong underwear. When asked, though, he said he wasn't traumatized. Whew. No, that happened a few days ago when I stepped outside the bathroom naked to turn the light on. Sorry, kiddo. Darn Seattle buildings and their placement of bathroom light switches.



1This is part of the motivation for my head-scratching about what to do with the spoils of my divorce.
2SFDs: '60s-esque psychedelic print skater dress from Zulily, gladiator sandals, all MAC makeup. Gold-toned jewelry to match the dress & sandals.
3Dude in charge: Ramiro Gutierrez.
4Unlike [livejournal.com profile] staxxy, when I say "dirty hippies", I mean actual human dirty hippies who smell bad.
sistawendy: (stern nun)
No, not the fun kind, oxalic acid to try to get rid of the drywall dust in my bathtub from the emergency plumbing repair a few months ago. The tub isn't pristine now, but it's vastly improved. Leave it to [livejournal.com profile] randomdreams to suggest something kind of scary that really works. Ah luv yew, mayunn. How scary? I followed the directions and used rubber gloves & safety glasses, and since one of my gloves leaked, I got some on one hand and scrubbed one-handed. Boy am I glad I took precautions. I also coughed a few times from the fumes even with the window open.
In further domestic news, I just ate an entire bunch of kale, dried (nearly) completely in one (1) hour. I think I got the salt, oil, and time just right this time. Drying right now: a pound of tofu that I marinated for an hour in shoyu & sesame oil. My lake place smells heavenly. And I'll probably be running the dehydrator whenever I'm home for two or three weeks before Burning Man.
Last night? All the social. My neighbor, all gussied up, invited me over to a party at their place. I was unbathed and in my workout clothes. I know they told me earlier, but I forgot to put it in my calendar. D'oh! I'd been planning to hang out with [livejournal.com profile] cupcake_goth at the '80s night at El Norte. I did manage both, and I showed all those pretty straight girls next door how we do it Goth style. How we do it has started to involve a few extra steps for me due to recent weight loss, but it's nothing I can't handle.

Hilarity for the evening: at El Norte the music turned disco-flavored after midnight by request, and everyone in our little group except me fled in revulsion. (You guys know about my deep love of disco, right?) After closing my tab, I went out back out of curiosity and discovered a bunch of kids - twenty-somethings - smoking legally. I let them know of the oddity of being at an '80s night surrounded by people who were alive at no point during the 1980s. They told me they were there with their parents, which I find eminently credible.

SFDs: black steampunk-y skirt from Mishu, Fluevog Half-Truths, red stripey hose, long-sleeved black V-neck blouse with ribbon trim, mostly MAC makeup.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Work? Java, and therefore agonizing. The Java community reinvented '90s versions of wheels, and made them baroquely rectilinear.

M'boy? Having enough trouble adulting - little stuff like going to bed at night and getting up in the morning in time for class - that my ex is on the verge of making good on her threat to ship him off to me on a long-term basis. I'm displeased about this because a) my place is a one-bedroom apartment, b) I'll have to feed my teen, c) the kid still leaves a trail of mess and broken stuff, and d) so much for ever bringing any ladies home except those weekends he'll be staying with his mother, barring kicking him out somewhere. Oh by the way, his commutes to school and work will be waaaay longer. When he does move in, I'm going to be cranky, to say the least. He's aware, and he's dreading the prospect. Consequences, kiddo.

Dating? Well, my ladies haven't forgotten me, but they're still sick & busy.

Against this backdrop of meh and arg, I put on my Pride flag/stars & stripes leggings, black paten 20-eyelet docs, high-collared short sleeve black shirtwaist, and black leather opera gloves. (Makeup? Nearly all MAC.) Got a shout out from [livejournal.com profile] seelenschwester, flirted with another queer woman. Mood improved, even if I'm a tiny bit hung over; either losing weight or age has reduced my alcohol tolerance.
Ingress level: 6.82. I can ding 7 today if I apply myself.
sistawendy: (mad woman)
Had a sushi date with the Tickler last night that she postponed last week at Nijo downtown. Sushi? Not bad and not overpriced, but not Mashiko, either. The Tickler still wasn't feeling terribly well, so instead of the naughty activities at her place for which I admit to being psyched, there was herbal tea (dykes, yo) on my couch and sleep at a reasonable hour. Still, it was nice to just chat, which I'd been feeling I hadn't done enough of with her.

SFDs, much appreciated by the Tickler and one of my better efforts:
  • black wool V-neck sweater with 3/4 sleeves
  • psychedelic fractal scarf given to me by the aforementioned Tickler. With Pride chain mail earrings that more or less match.
  • black leather pencil skirt - I've lost enough weight to fit into it sans corset!
  • fine mesh hose with an open, sparkly vine pattern - This is the part the Tickler liked most.
  • Fluevog Truth Melanie - nice boots, duh
  • black leather biker jacket
And because I love lists, here's my upcoming week:
  1. Xmas eve plan, hammered out last night: potluck christmas dinner with the Siberian Siren, in the grandest lesbian tradition.
  2. The night of the 25th: Re-bar, which will be off the hook.
  3. The night of the 26th: A date with Elder Goth.
  4. The 28th: Star Wars with m'boy.
  5. The 29th: Year-end number crunching for Lambert House.
  6. The 30th: Get divorced.
And here I was thinking a few weeks ago that I'd be bored over the holidays.
sistawendy: (dolly)
This was a kid weekend, and I still got a bunch of social time in. Vict'ry! But first: I couldn't decide between Goth Christmasy and super queer for last night's party outfit, so I consulted the social media brain trust via certain other social networks that shall remain nameless. Most said Goth Christmasy, but a significant number (well, two - the total sample was small) said to do both. And no less a personage than Mistress Matisse, local professional dominatrix and way cool & articulate sex work decriminalization activist, said a tiara needed to be involved. So: photographic SFDs )

Dropped off m'boy for his four-hour shift at PCC Kirkland yesterday. Drove to the far south end for a certain swanky affair at chez [livejournal.com profile] morthael & [livejournal.com profile] icprncs. OMGShortbread! Then burned up I-5 to the north end to party with some of the extended MOO kroo and pump [livejournal.com profile] gfish for information regarding internships and/or being a page in various legislatures. You see, his brother has had that gig, and my son wants it. Since it's one of my son's precious few expressions of ambition, I promised him I'd find out what I could. That's right: partying with a purpose.

After I took the Wendling to work this afternoon, I did laundry & housework until my phone reminded me of another party that I'd completely forgotten about, namely the Lambert House volunteer party. A quick application of makeup and bottle purchase later, I had a lovely time with teh queerz. They had a few ginger snatch cookies, i.e. gingerbread cookies in the impressively realistic shape of lady bits; I ate them all. I told everyone I was practicing sympathetic magic.

And on that note, good night.
sistawendy: (taco madonna)
Bad songs: I went to the second annual Eurovision party at chez [livejournal.com profile] gfish, [livejournal.com profile] vixy, & [livejournal.com profile] tereshkova2001. Yes, there's lots of unusual alcohol and MST3King at what one Englishwoman calls an "international embarrassment competition", but it's a fabulous time. It's too bad I missed the Mercury's 16th birthday, but I still think I made the right choice.

Burning Man buddies: I left the dog alone longer than I should have for a BBQ at chez [livejournal.com profile] ack_yeahright on Sunday. I learned a few things - maybe some of them are even true - about her hubby J's childhood in small-town southern California. He & his friends are lucky to be alive and out of prison, for the most part.

But OK, my favorite part of the weekend? Was going dancing at the Monkey Loft yesterday afternoon. Seriously, a club night during the daytime. Anyway, I'm getting my groove on during the daytime when I can't help but notice this lovely young Greek-looking woman with some serious dance moves. I asked her suspiciously, "Are you a professional dancer?" She said, "Working towards it."

I may have mentioned my... thing for Mediterraneans here in the past.

Shallow Fashion Details: light makeup including berry lipstick from Atomic Cosmetics, my black hoodie with tails, my sleeveless dress with the eye-forky '60s-like print, navy leggings & over-the-knee Argyle socks, black Fluevog Half Truths. 'Nuther words, funky and danceable. I got several comments, and I think Greek Girl said she liked the shoes.

I'm taking a load off a while later when she walks up and introduces herself as [something Greek-sounding]. And as I'm taking my leave of her, she asks me for my last name so she can find me in Zuckerberg's Data Mine.
"Like the telescope?"
"Close. Two B's, two L's." I.e., the right way. Points for referring to the telescope.

I believe I've been hit on by a much younger & prettier woman. File that under O for ossum.
sistawendy: (amused eighteenthcent)
I went to Re-bar as promised last night, and who should I run into but [livejournal.com profile] erotocism? She hadn't seen me since before transition, so it was a lot of fun catching her up on the story so far.

Meanwhile, she's been doing serious sk00l in psychology. She wants to be a therapist for queer kids. Naturally, I'm down with that.

At one point I turned the subject to dating, because that's what I do all the damn time. I mentioned that as hard as it is out there for a middle-aged trans dyke, I felt a little sorry for my straight girlfriends for having to contend with such a low signal-to-noise ratio. She informed me that she's bi, so more queer points for her.

To tell you the truth, I've known for years that she's queer; I even know one of her AFAB exes. Yes, that was disingenuous of me. Hush. She's just a tiny bit closer to my son's age than mine, so I'm not seriously entertaining the notion of asking her out. Not seriously. Yet.

Shallow Fashion Details:
  • electric blue MAC eye shadow
  • Jinx'd lipstick from Atomic Cosmetics
  • "House Music Nutrition Facts" t-shirt
  • Fluevog Half Truths
  • leggings from Bombsheller that are Pride flag on the front, US flag on the back
Needless to say, I brought it.
sistawendy: (dolly)
M'boy & I delivered a spare 24-lb. turkey (long story) from the old place to Jewish Family Services in Seattle. Afterward, the Wendling wanted to drive to What the Pho in Bellevue, the best pho joint in 425-land, for lunch. He'd never experienced crazed consumers on their way to the overgrown & overpriced Bellevue Square mall on Black Friday before. It made for exciting driving. Poor kid.

You don't have to be in such a mall to hate humanity on Black Friday, just near one. The suck extends for several blocks in all directions.
Traditional Buy Nothing Day nibbles with grad school chums. I increasingly feel as if they're grown-ups, talking about their children's educations and the like, and I'm not. (I should probably be grateful they're not talking about options & real estate anymore.) It... kind of freaks me out. I have a vague memory of being like that, but I don't want to be anymore.
I went to [livejournal.com profile] inkandalchemy's new Twisted fetish night at the Merc. Tunes? Right on, thanks to her. Eye candy? But of course. Crowd? Could have been bigger, but it's a new night and the weather didn't cooperate. Flirted outrageously with a certain tall, athletic, and wholesome-looking lady, which was quite yay.

Shallow fashion details: black leather thigh high boots, black leather pencil skirt, black satin underbust corset, black leather opera gloves, and black electrical tape on my nipples, dammit.
sistawendy: (dolly)
Without really seeking to do so, I appear to have made plans for Thanksgiving that make up for missing out on most of Halloween. Der Plan:

Thursday dinner - Goth orphans old friends. I will be making you all eat your vegetables.
Thursday night - Funny Lady texted me and said she et al. have a tradition of dancing Thanksgiving dinner off at Re-bar. She mentioned that some of her queer girlfriends will be there. I'll be there in something cute.
Friday morning - Something with m'boy.
Friday afternoon - Nibbles & chats with grad school chums.
Friday evening - The new fetish night at the Merc, Twisted, organized by the fabulous [livejournal.com profile] inkandalchemy. Temptress will be there with me.
Saturday afternoon - Eats with my son.
Saturday evening - House deity Mark Farina is playing the Monkey Loft.
Sunday - Collapse. Do my Haskell homework.
StartupCo has an annual dress-up day. I'm wearing a green velvet off-the-shoulder dress, my Gothest jewelry, Fluevogs (my pumps were wrecked), and seamed stockings. Worship me.

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