On a wave of mutilation

I went to Lambert House for the trans group as usual last night, and it was a good group, if small: trans yoof youth talking about trans things. One thing that made it more pleasant than usual was that nobody connected to the online meeting; everyone was there in person. I just find it harder to divide my attention between the screen and the room, and the audio is always terrible. If the purveyors of online video hardware & software really want to take over the world, they're going to have to solve that second problem.

And while I'm complaining, I'm tired of the setup and teardown needed for the video calls. We can't just set it up and leave it up because we're still at St. Mark's, not in our own house. However, says Ken the director, we're moving back in July. I'm oh so ready, and the yoof youth are too, I found out last night.

Just two more trips to St. Marks for me, I think: I'll be in San Francisco in early May. It was pretty damn fantastic of St. Mark's to rent us that much space for that long, complete with use of a kitchen. Like many if not most queers I'm deeply suspicious of most conventional religious organizations* because they're full of people who crave being told that doing horrible things to queers is OK. Nevertheless, the Episcopal church in general and St. Mark's Cathedral in particular have won my grudging respect.



*Hence the popularity of woo among queers. If I could roll my eyes in writing right now, I would.

Eats: I'd walked or taken the bus past Malaysian restaurant Kedai Makan for years. If I remember correctly, seelenschwester used to be a chef there. It had languished far down my to-do list.

But then the Tickler wanted a place to eat with lots of gluten free options, and they found it. It's fantastic! And not crazy expensive. Pro tip: make a reservation like we did, because nearly everyone else found out it's good before I did.

Beats: Thence to Chop Suey for a night called Sapphic Factory. Yes, there were sweet young things making out. And yes, we joined the entire club to sing along to "Red Wine Supernova" by Chappell Roan. The dance floor was crowded enough to make the Tickler claustrophobic, so we found a strategic spot for people watching, i.e. being dirty old femmes. We resolved to dress sluttier next time, since that seemed to be the vibe. Latex wouldn't have been out of place.

The Tickler had done homework (!) and listened to the artists on the list that the promoters put in their promos, but which the DJs apparently ignored. It is to laugh. I will say that electrolysis music* goes better when your surrounded by scantily clad dykes. And playing Chappell Roan atones for a multitude of sins.



*My erstwhile electrolysis lady, Ms. Zappy, used to play a lot of oh-so-current pop hits while working on me. I now associate that sound with having electrified needles inserted into my skin.

Bad: Kansas makes trans people unpersons overnight.

Good: a sweet late-night text message from Blue Moon Lady.

Good: two months until I leave for surgery in San Francisco. It can't happen soon enough.

When I drove out of Camp Beaverton for Wayward Girls in 2018, one of the two mayors said goodbye to me through my car window and offered me a leadership role. I declined, saying that the next time I was at Burning Man it would be for revenge.

Fast forward to this year. I got in touch with her via electronic means and told her I wouldn't be camping with Beaverton this year. "It's not them, it's me," I said.
"Oh, it's them, trust me," came the reply.
It was a long and sad story, she said. I neither asked for nor received any elaboration.

I've heard of Beavers having... conflicts, if that isn't too strong a word, between each other, but it was always about individuals, not the camp. Yes, it is a sad story. I wonder what I'll find when I get there.

But first, the leather dyke munch. Had an agreeable time talking with fellow trans folks. Yes, again. Finally asked B the organizatrix, "Where are all the people over fifty?" She said that she'd been considering throwing an event earlier in the evening for us elders. Sort of like the Hot Flash dance nights an Neighbours, she said, only freakier. Shoot, I'd go. I would have stayed later at B's fundraiser on the other side of CC's, but I had plans for today, namely...

...I took a bus route that was new to me a loooong way south to White Center for my first Burning Man camp meeting this year. In attendance were Burner R (not to be confused with any earlier R's) and leenerella. Neither of them are planning on going to the playa this year, but this wasn't just a meeting for planning for Burning Man; there are other Burner-flavored events various subsets of the crew are going to, some of which I'll be medically unable to attend due to surgery.

It's been eight years since I went, and unlike my last several trips to The Thing In The Desert, I don't have my own vehicle anymore. I've been worried about logistics because how could I not be? R put my transportation fears to rest: the gang is used to carpooling, and has a trailer for moving the vast quantities of gear and infrastructure that we haul into the desert.

As for my smaller worries – camp dues, if any, and gasoline for the inevitable generator, etc. – it's too soon to ask about those. I'll just have to do what doesn't come naturally and take care of those questions later.

But overall, it's an experienced group of people who know what they're doing and also have fun. Hell to the yes. I'm feeling even better about this crew – Astro Shack, by name – than I felt earlier.