seraphicmachine

I put on the big blue dress from Gallery Serpentine that I got for my tenth rebirthday and hit the Wildrose last night. It was a small but merry gathering including Tacoma Girl, A from the Merc, and A's sweetie J, not to be confused with J-the-dancing-fiend whom I usually see at the Merc with A.

The Wildrose is a pretty good place to be a dirty old woman. Ahem.

People bought me drinks and I drank them, but adequate hydration and sleeping past 1100 this morning allowed me to, like, not suffer today. Tacoma Girl took me to Lost Lake, which is still a fantastic place to get fish & chips & relative sobriety. Luckily, we were in & out well before the rush that happens when the bars stop serving, i.e. 0100.

As of yesterday, I've been living for fifteen years as a woman. In other words, yesterday was my fifteenth rebirthday. I didn't go out yet, but my son took me out for tacos and a beer around the corner. Happy rebirthday to me. It's a little trippy to think that what turned into my grand coming out was a whopping fifteen years ago. Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.

My actual quinceañera, as I'm calling it, will be tomorrow evening at the Wildrose. There will be the big blue dress from Gallery Serpentine. Tacoma Girl and Ms. Washington State Leather said they'd come. I hope for an interesting evening. (Sadly, Funny Lady is out of town.)

I've finished my pre-surgery to-do list. On to the packing list!

I put the funk in executive function. Fear me.

Edited to add: I just finished the packing list.

Dr. Funnyname? Scheduled.
Dental cleaning? Scheduled. Gosh, their office staff is busy.
Bill? Paid. Yeah, that's the largest wire transfer I've ever sent, and the biggest one I ever hope to send. I figured that waiting a month would get me lest than ten bucks in interest, and it's worth it to me not to have to think about it.

To do:

• Lodging. Got recommendations from the Sculptor's office.
• Ground transpo for the day of surgery. This is through the Sculptor's office.
• Plane tickets, in coordination with Dancer. I offered to pay hers, but she... did not accept.

My name is Logistica, Queen of Details. Look upon my works, ye mighty! Or something.

First a preface. I've written here several times about going up Aurora Ave., AKA State Road 99. It's a thirty-mile strip of car culture hell that extends from not quite downtown Seattle north into Snohomish County. It's basically a long, narrow blight zone that'll make anyone with any esthetic sensibility at all want to stick forks in their eyes.

But what if the stores were bigger and the place looked less seedy, as I've heard Aurora did fifty or sixty years ago? What you would have then is Federal Way, WA, about eight miles south of SEA airport, which is in turn well south of Seattle.

Sure, it isn't as soul-crushing as Aurora, but why even go there*? Because as of yesterday it's the end of the line for Sound Transit light rail's 1 line! That's right, three bucks and an hour get you from Seattle's U District all the way to Federal Way.

Assuming, of course, that some fool driving on Rainier Ave., the longer of the two at-grade sections of the 1-line, doesn't get in a wreck. I spent half an hour at Sodo looking around at my fellow passengers, texting the Tickler to let them know I'd be late for dinner, and wondering what was going on later at the Monkey Loft a few blocks away. Those at-grade sections, by the way, are the reason we can't automate our light rail as Vancouver did theirs. If I were Imperatrix Mundi they'd be elevated or, better, in cut-and-cover tunnels, and the NIMBYs would get mulched.

But! Onward and southward eventually to three new stations: Kent/Des Moines**, which is one block from Highline College. College kids are transit users, so the location of that station is absolutely correct. The next station is Star Lake; I hadn't known Star Lake existed until I read about the new stations. I guess they had to put a station somewhere.

And then Federal Way, where they put the station on the eastern edge of an agglomeration of big box stores and strip malls. The urbanist in me wishes they'd put it in the middle, but Sound Transit built a parking garage for the station. I can think of two reasons for this: we can expect Federal Way to be the end of the line for a long time, and it's so damn sprawly out there that suburbanites are justified in clinging to their cars for the last few miles. The sensible place for a parking garage is in a less crowded spot right next to I-5, right where it is.

Indeed, even before this latest extension, much of the 1 line's route at the northern and southern ends hugged I-5. It was probably the easiest place to get the rights of way; I know that's why there's no light rail on Aurora.

Is there new housing in Federal Way within walking distance of the station? Yup. Sanity comes to the suburbs, bit by bit.

How long did it take the Tickler to drive from their place in Tacoma to pick me up? Twenty-two minutes, baby. The drive from their place to mine is nearly ninety minutes in early evening traffic.

But! What's actually in Federal Way? Strip malls! Including one about fifteen blocks from the train station where nearly every business is Korean, including about half a dozen restaurants. The Tickler had done their homework and selected one for us named Moobongri. Not fancy, and not barbecue***, with Korean balads on the TV, but all about the tasty noodle soups. I wasn't brave enough to order the pork blood sausage, but the Tickler was. It's a bit chewy, so they ended up eating extra banchan. Would nom again, or would nom again at any of the gazillion neighboring restaurants. Ironically, parking is a bit tight there, so carpool.

But that was the early evening. What about the rest of the evening? I ended up taking the train to the bus to Ballard, where I shook my booty to a lady DJ named Leira and Riz Rollins. Lovely choonz but I went home at midnight because I'd woken up early and my third cup of caffeine was wearing off.

Fun fact: this has been a booze-free weekend by accident. I admit to feeling a lot perkier than I usually do on Sunday morning.



*Ms. Zappy's office was there. That's the only reason I'm familiar with the place.
**I had a friend who lived in Des Moines long ago. Pity she isn't still in this area.
***Korean barbecue really calls for a party of at least four. It's big food.

Says the Sculptor's office, no bike helmet for three months after surgery because it would put pressure on my forehead. Therefore, no bike. More than the liquid diet, the sleeping on my back, and the pain, this is what bums me out. You all know about my relationship with Miss Indigo Bike, right?

They'll give me a special headband so I can wear my glasses. I'm OK with that. Temporarily looking funky is something I don't mind much.

Oh by the way, they answered my mail about recovery on a Saturday. It so wasn't urgent. They're hardcore.

No, that's not dirty.

I submitted (an image of) "Dysphoria Devil" to the Seattle Erotic Art Festival. Well, to the exhibition store anyway; I chickened out of submitting to the actual exhibition. I have two prints ready to go. If both sell, I'll get a whopping $36. If not, I have to pick them up, which is going to be a problem because...

...I belatedly realized that SEAF happens less than a week after I'm supposed to have surgery on my face. It is to laugh. I may be designating someone to pick them up, or better in my opinion, donating them to SEAF. I know the latter is an option because a print that I really wanted last year got donated by an artist and snatched up by a volunteer before I could buy it.

Calling "Dysphoria Devil" erotic is stretching things a bit. It's about what it's like to be trans, and I hope to Goddess that nobody takes it as a fetishization of trans women, because that isn't how I meant it. But what it really means is out of my hands once other people see it.