sistawendy: me at a house party cradling a taco like a baby (taco madonna)
At my Halloween party, Tacoma Girl left a bag of weed gummies — deliberately, mind you. The brand? Pioneer Squares, from right here in Seattle*. So I nommed one each on Friday and Saturday night. This is a review.

Each kiwi-flavored gummy purports to contain 10 mg of a mix of THC & CBD**.
Time to kick in? About half an hour.
Giggles? Yes, the first time.
Munchies? No, thank Goddess.
Body buzz? Yes, eventually.
Anxiety or paranoia? No.
Did I fall asleep early less than two hours after eating the gummy? Yes, the first time. The second time took three.

Honestly, this has been the most positive weed experience I've had so far this century. Mike Doughty complained in his memoir that "there's no such thing as the weed equivalent of a glass of wine anymore," but these gummies came pretty close.



*For those of you outside the US, Washington was one of the first states to legalize weed, but it still isn't legal nationally. That means that if you want to consume WA weed without breaking the law, you have to come here to the mighty & awesome Evergreen State, buy your cannabis products here, and consume them in private without crossing a state line.
**When I found out that CBD stands for central business district in Sydney, I snerked.
sistawendy: me in my nun costume with my duster cross, looking hopeful (hopeful nun)
So for a few weeks now I've often been waking up around 0330 and having trouble getting back to sleep. Yes, melatonin works if I take it early enough, but I also build up a tolerance to it quickly. What to do?

If you'll recall, weed lube knocks me right out. Thanks to that party hostess Weed Vixen from over two years ago, I slept seven and a half hours, until my alarm went off. (Did I have a better-than-usual orgasm? Maybe. It's hard to tell. It definitely wasn't faster.)

The real question, though, is how I'll sleep tonight and tomorrow night. I don't particularly want to use the weed lube again tonight - dependency, wrist tendons, my son trying to sleep in the next room, you know - so we'll see if getting me out of the habit of waking up crazy early is sufficient.

It surely doesn't help that I can't ride FM Bike. I miss her.
sistawendy: my 2006 Prius at the dealership (Prius)
Now that the Tickler is settled into her ex's place in Olympia, we executed on a fairly mellow plan of eats, and literal Netflix and chill.

The Tickler, as always, picked the eats; given that she knows Olympia way better than I do, this was an even better idea than usual. Grown-up dinner at the Waterstreet Cafe, and brunch at Our Table, both in downtown Oly. We partook of raw oysters at Waterstreet, Olympia being near Puget Sound's biggest concentration of shellfish beds. For brunch, the Tickler had something my dad would have approved of and I really didn't. Je ne regrette rien. Both restaurants are worthy choices, and being in Olympia they're not as expensive or crowded as comparable quality would be in Seattle.

It may surprise you not at all to hear that the Tickler is a popcorn snob: organic, oil-popped in a device that stirs the kernels automatically, with butter and nutritional yeast. Nom.

I wish I could say The Girl King was as good as the popcorn. It's a melodrama about Sweden's 17th-century Queen Kristina that should have been in Swedish, but wasn't. Not even fabulous costumes and gay stuff could hold our interest. But the Tickler saved the evening with Janelle Monae's Emotion Picture, which the Tickler had seen but I hadn't. It gave me the excuse I wanted to like her work more.

Sure, there were some cuddles and tickle fights, but I think I disappointed my poor girlfriend by falling asleep relatively early. I'd awoken at 0600 as usual. Moral: schedule dates with her for earlier in the evening.

The Tickler nearly tweaked her back shoveling snow so I'd have a place to park; the snow piles in Oly were much higher than the ones in Seattle ever were. For her back she took some cannabis concentrate that her ex had left behind; I think she took it right around the time I arrived, which was 1900. She said she was still stoned when I left at around 1430 this afternoon. Great stuff.
sistawendy: me in my nurse costume looking weirded out (weirded out)
About a year ago I was at a party and I mentioned that I'd like to try weed lube. The hostess piped up and said that she'd just made some, and would I like a jar?

There's only one correct answer to that, so I now have about half of a 4 oz. jar left in my night stand.

The people who make weed lube commercially say it gives you longer, better orgasms, and probably a pony too. Wayell, I'm not sure about that - it doesn't detract from the experience - but for at least the second time I got an unusually good night's sleep right after using it.

Maybe the makers of weed lube are missing a marketing opportunity. I mean, I would think people desperate for more & better sleep heavily outnumber those desperate for better orgasms.
sistawendy: me in profile in a Renaissance dress at a party (contemplative red)
I'll start with the most recent and ugliest part first: Good Sister just called me to strategize about what I'll say to Mom when I talk to her at the regular time tomorrow, assuming she's willing to speak to me. And that is:
  1. She needs to make an appointment with her lawyer for when we're there. GS & I have agreed to change our plane tickets if need be.
  2. Speak gently at all times. GS & I recognize that we have our father's tendency to fulminate, and that would be counterproductive with Mom as she is now, i.e. demented.
  3. Remind her that we love her more than these mysterious people she's talking to, who are criminals.
  4. Document all conversations and save all email, because we may have to take her to court to get "custody".
It's gotten so bad that even Evil Sister has gotten into the act via email, reminding Mom of people she knows who've been scammed among other things. Good Sister has been saying to me that if Mom does get taken for everything she's worth, neither she nor ES can afford to put her anywhere, so she'll essentially end up a bag lady. That's unthinkable to me, but lots of unthinkable things have been happening lately.
This one's both yin and yang: the costumer that I talked to at Eyelashes' place last week has been difficult to get a hold of, so on the off chance that she might flake, I've implemented Skirt Plan B C D: a little something from Gallery Serpentine, properly accesorized. It has the enthusiastic endorsement of [personal profile] cupcake_goth, who's my go-to consultant for this sort of thing, natch.
I went to what was at first going to be a surprise party for Funny Lady not far from my place. (I walked there fast in the cold because I'd left my transit pass in my messenger bag.) Somebody decided to tell her a few hours in advance so it wouldn't stress her out (?!) so I got to watch the hostess Weed Vixen (Foreshadowing!) go a little bit bananas. As usual when Funny Lady is involved, this party exceeded expectations. Highlights:
  • Fantastic food! Weed Vixen baked a loaf of olive bread that was still warm when I arrived, and her partner picked up righteous barbecue & kim chi (?!) from Barbecue Smith on Roosevelt. I didn't know FL loved BBQ.
  • In the course of conversation I mentioned that I wanted to try weed lube. It turns out that Weed Vixen makes it, and she sold me a jar (for which I owe her). I tried it this morning, It maaaay have helped me get off faster - conditions were less than ideal - but it does seem to have helped me catch up on sleep afterwards. Weird part: numb fingers on my (ahem) right hand; that stuff may be stronger than I expected.
  • There's a certain butchy, queer, poly lady whom I've seen around whom I shall call Tall Flannel. Yes, taller than I am. Thanks to Diesel Bleeper's fancy fishnets, I let slip that I love to tickle people. (DB herself not into it.) It turns out that Tall Flannel is a big ol' tickle bottom. I caught a ride home with her and her partner(s?).We shall see what develops.
sistawendy: me in a tie die dress with a flirty look on my face (flirty hippy)
The Tickler & I went on a date last night to Funny Lady's birthday party, which was at the home of another birthday girl, to be known as Diesel Bleeper for her love of both auto repair and techno production.

At first, the Tickler's delicate digestion was being, well, delicate. So she took one hit of somebody else's weed and was not only right as rain but fairly stoned. Ah, the wonder that is modern, legal weed.

Lots of lovely women, one of whom was wearing Fluevogs. She led me into temptation with Fluevog's winter catalog. Shoe whores lovers unite! She also brought killer rugelach from New York City.

But the real action was in the basement. That was where the hosts had set up a stripper pole. Sure enough, because Seattle, a couple of the guests knew how to pole dance, so they stripped to their sexy undies and did their thing. Oh my.

And the music for the night was either recorded by or produced live by Diesel Bleeper and a friend (boyfriend?) of hers. DB is part of Funny Lady's polycule, if I remember correctly, so I knew her and I knew that she did make techno. What I didn't know is that a) she's good, b) she has tons of gear, which I saw down the basement hallway in her studio, and c) she's trying to recruit more women into doing the bleepy thing.

Uh, shyeah! As you might expect from someone with my love of electronic music, I've messed around with Ableton but found the learning curve to be quite steep. I think it's a godsend to find someone like Diesel Bleeper willing & able to clue me and other women in. The only problem from my perspective is time; October is shaping up to be madness. It doesn't help that DB's place is in the south end and mine is in the north.

The party ended with Funny Lady tipsy, in her underwear, and tickling people, starting with me. She herself is, of course, not ticklish. The Tickler and I give the nearly naked FL two thumbs up. The Tickler had never met Funny Lady, so I don't think she quite believed my hype about FL's parties. She believes it now. Dayumn, my birthday party should be as good.

The rest of the calendar day: cuddles and snores with the Tickler, brunch at Itto's, costuming, and making my birthday invitation list at Funny Lady's urging. She says to send save-the-date messages soon.
sistawendy: me in the Mercury's alley with the wind catching my hair (smoldering windblown Merc alley)
Last night: Dinner, more or less, at chez Much Younger Woman. She said she missed me, and I definitely missed her. Aw! We & a friend of hers smoked what I'm pretty sure was a C. sativa strain - just one bong hit for me, thanks - judging by how much talking happened afterward, drank a surprising volume of box wine, and watched the first three eps of "Stranger Things". I get why the buzz is huge and people are hooked: it isn't just plot candy, it's plot Nutella. Taking the bus home involved not one but two 15-minute waits. Yeah, I could have Uber'd, but I'm trying to conserve cash at the moment. Ah, student life. I'm not sure I really miss it.

Today: Grocery shopping with Ex, followed by a hospital visit with m'boy to Exdad, who turned out to be sleeping. Neither of us wanted to wake him; we'd both heard him complain earlier about not getting enough sleep. This conveniently gave me enough time to go to a clothing swap at a group house full of queer poly women & AFABs who I know. I walked out with a weight in clothes that's equal to what I walked in with, but I think the ones I walked out with stand a much better chance of getting worn. I think the Goth Cabal would approve of a lot of what I got. And if they don't, remember, there is no Goth Cabal.

I think I'm staying in tonight: too low on sleep.

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