Saturday afternoon SFDs: short pink sparkly circle skirt, Camp Beaverton ("I ♥ graphic-of-beaver") tank top, but sensible hippie sandals because I'd trashed my ankles the previous evening. Oh yeah, I wore a whole lot of SPF 50 and packed a picnic lunch as well.
Went to the Broadway street fair as one does. Bought a book from the queer bookstore that is, ironically enough, within walking distance of my house. Spent too much money on a big pendant of a biblically accurate angel in Pride colors. Saw:
- Fellow Lambert House trans facilitator A-the-dude (A-the-lady is the one I've spent way more time with).
- vantablack from Mastodon. She doesn't live in Cal Anderson Park, but I've seen her there about half a dozen times.
- E, a more or less elder goth who lives near Broadway. I'm pretty sure she used to have an LJ, but damned if I can remember her old username.
- K and L, gement's little sisters! K has a storied history as a Burner and organizer of (ahem) parties to which I often wore latex, whereupon she had to remind me not to hug her because she's severely allergic to it. ("K!" "Noooo!!")
Seriously, Broadway on Pride Saturday is my happy place. So much queerness and peeps.
Went home. Ate leftovers. Turned around twice. Wriggled into my new latex LBD for...
Saturday evening: the
Hot Flash Inferno night at Neighbours. As the name suggests, it's aimed at queer ladies of a certain age, two of whom independently invited me to go. I'm not fool enough to fight the universe, so of course I was the first one there by a wide margin. (The other four of us either have ADHD or live way the hell out in the suburbs.) In attendance:
cupcake_goth's pal T, looking very dapper; Funny Lady; and the Siberian Siren and her lovely wife! I expressed my relief that the SS has finally found Ms. Right. As badly as I'd like to follow suit, I can't claim to have had breakups anything like the Siren's.
Said a brief howdy to one of the latex gang, who were showing up right after Hot Flash ended. Then Funny Lady suggested that we hit the Merc, which we did. Sometime around midnight we called it a night. I got ramen at Betsutenjin, where the staff have started to recognize me, and caught the last train northbound. Much win.
Pride Sunday: slept until 0900. Wore my customary Pride outfit*. (Mental note: get spirit gum for my reusable pasties. Toupee tape doesn't cut it.) Went to the parade to find Ken Shulman, director of Lambert House, because he had what I thought might be urgent business. He wasn't with the LH parade contingent, at least not at that time, so I headed toward the Seattle Center just in time to see the parade start.
You know what that means: the dykes on bikes. No, I didn't try to join them this year because see above. But the sound of a few dozen motorcyclces revving in the concrete canyons of downtown Seattle is impressive, to say the least, and I find it moving.
So I made it to the Seattle center, wandered around, ate & drank, and eventually ran into Ken. And our IT guy on the board of directors. And two or three of the yoof from Lambert House. I've mentioned here before that there's no such thing as a brief conversation involving Ken Shulman, and luckily, we were in the shade. Plus, Ken & Ray imparted much-needed info to me so I can do my database monkey thing. Oh yeah, lots of excellent queer eye candy in full sunlight.
Went home. Napped. Put stuff away.
It was all too brief. I wish I could do all the things and see all the people, but even when I was half the age I am now with seemingly limitless energy, there simply isn't time.
*Black Stetson, black leather harness from Apatico, Pride stripe nipple pasties, skirt belt from Chrysalis, black leather thong, knee-high Pride socks, white Docs that K in SF gave me, Pride stripe accessories. You know, the usual.