birthday recap

Despite really not understanding the way my body processes alcohol these days and being cold and dazed by the end of the night, my birthday went very well, and better than expected. The Dove as mercifully under-crowded, kalichan, hofnarr, roadnotes, baldanders, coyotegoth, magnetgirl, leopard_lady (who is delightfully tiny), lawnrrd, sykii, askeladden, ladypeculiar, schmittybooger, and Jessica who doesn't have an LJ but works at Hell House and is therefore cooler than all of us ("the pearl of your virginity is about to be executed!") were all in attendence. I don't think that forgets anyone.

Jessica, in fact, pointed out that should I ever own a pub (and I should, just for the use of this suggestion), I must name it The Sardonic Diplomat.

My bracelet that was a gift for Severus' birthday back in January kept having the clasp open up last night and it was making me nevous enough I had to take it off. I just bought a safety class for it on Ebay which should be here in a few days so I'll be able to start wearing it again.

Now I'm going to take a quick shower, find my cloak to bring to the dry cleaners, get some stuff at the sewing shop, and go into work.

Who is going to the Medieval festival at Ft. Tryon Park tomorrow?

Also, for whoever I was supposed to tell this to: Draco & the Malfoys, Oct. 22: http://www.engywook.com/3cupsHalloween/

also, Kali, and whomever else I was rambling to about the porntastic Patil twins thing, it's here: http://community.livejournal.com/smut_wednesday/15415.html (Waaaaaaaaaaaay not work safe HP porn, some of which is disturbing (if you scroll down and see the mandrake pic it's NOT MY FAULT)).

Finally, I can't believe how many of you who are my age have no idea from a Sleestak or Land of the Lost. All of this came about because Kali sent me the first pictures of m in the Snape coat (which lack the contrast to see the buttons, but unfortunately, not the color to see how red my face is (the thing about my appearance I hate most). I asked her "what's with my sleestak hands?" and then realized she might not know what one was. Sure enough....


Me (standing on my bed in my bedroom. Yes, those are really my curtains. You can also see the key plaques that have a track record of flying off the wall and at people's heads).

Sleestaks (although you can't really see their hands and it sort of ruins the funny).

Tonight I want to work on Strings so more, as well as some fannish stuff I think, since people inquiring always gets me motivated.

Last night I had strange dreams about polyamory advocacy groups.

Meanwhile, the amount of conflicts between herbalism courses I want to take and regency dance classes is BAD.

measured steps

I decided that today I am 34 for real, and on my way into work went to Neera Saree Palace to buy a choli and petticoat for a saree that was a gift from a former coworker. It was a tiny expense and a pleasant exercise, but one I had to work hard to give myself permission for, for reasons I am not entirely clear on.

I have never felt such hesitation regarding my wearing of Japanese clothes, but then I grew up with my mother wearing kimono and then lived with a white man from Okinawa, so I guess I never felt that weird about it, except that time at Yale when I had straight black hair and got mistaken for part-Japanese by an exchange student in the dark of a dance as I was bopping around to Like a Prayer (which really is a fantastic pop song). When I think of that now (I was 15), I am accutely aware of how really stunningly beautiful I was that summer, in a way that chances are you can only be when you are 15. Anyway, in the light, when his friends realized I was just white, they called me a liar to him, eventhough he didn't speak at much English as them, they just wanted me to hear.

There are a lot of places I really want to travel -- Japan, the Nordic countries, New Zealand, India, Australia again, Morrocco, France. Chances are, I will mostly go alone, because part of the point of travel for me personally is that it is a little difficult and a little lonely. Some of this came up in passing last time I saw my parents and they said, "You don't really want to go there, do you?" in the same tone as my childhood -- "You don't really want that toy, do you?" "You don't really want to be sexy, do you?" My parents hate the dirty, difficult world (i.e., everything that is not a few neighborhoods in Paris, Manhattan south of 96th street or possibly Canada (they've never been)) and are under the delusion that having celiac disease will somehow keep me from it. They also never ask about any but my professional associations now that they know I am queer and poly. They also no longer pass on my cousin's invitations to sushi dinners.

Clothes are one of my greatest pleasures, and profoundly useful to me both as an actor and a writer. I first saw the world by learning the right way to walk in different stores -- Bergdorfs was for smaller, sharper steps that seemed to click across even carpetted floors as opposed to the gangly stride stuiable for Norma Kamali; Kimono House demanded a coy grace. I was an uncanny child, flirtatious without meaning to be in the way that I constantly tried to earn the good grace of others by proving I could exist in their world. It was always and is always, a profound pleasure to me. I do wonder what sort of demontration it is I'd be looking for though in someone proving they could exist in mine.

yet more new Descensus

http://community.livejournal.com/descensus_hp/9121.html