Tag: friends

lucky there was a walking cane in the closet

In a moment in poor decision making, I kicked an ottoman yesterday, possibly breaking my toe. I wrapped, splinted, and put it up on ice almost immediately, then used a cane when I went out. Given the circumstances, I admit that going out may not have been the most clever thing I’ve ever done, but Rhienna from Portland is visiting, (as well as my mother), and missing her wonderful DJ set and/or not taking her to The Unicorn would have felt like an indictable crime. She is a precious, beautiful creature, and if I have to walk on a broken toe to see her, well so be it, and I did, and it was totally worth it. Also, we sat a lot.

Today, thankfully, it seems my toe is likely only sprained, as standing no longer wants to make me cry. I feel this is a victory for a number of reasons, but mostly because even though the x-ray people all used to know me by name, I still haven’t broken any of my bones yet and I’d rather like to keep it that way. Especially given that if I’m fated to snap one some day, it had better be for something a damned sight more interesting than furniture kicking.

ps. I have, however, chipped my teeth. Twice eating pierogies, another time on Tony’s (since-absent) tongue piercing. Both satisfying narratives, so that’s alright, isn’t it?

Keep the Jigsaw Renaissance going strong.

Willow

Darling Willow, head mischief maker and leader of the Seattle-based Jigsaw Renaissance makerspace.


Jigsaw has recently moved to a beautiful new home on Capitol Hill, but requires more community support in order to stay there, as the rent is higher in the new space than it was in the warehouse district warren it inhabited before. Do you need regular access to a makerspace or know someone who does? Join now! Membership gives you access to various tools, a machineshop, a get-your-hands-dirty peergroup, and a sturdy workbench to use them all on. When I was there late last week as part of their Saturday open house, there were 3d printed earrings, night-vision capable copper robots, and a fuzzed out rubber band mint-tin guitar on display, someone was playing Bach on a digital reproduction of a pipe organ, and one table was completely surrounded by people arm in arm, acting as human conductors for the electricity needed for an LED display.

it was sitting there in the box saying, “which one of you bitches wants to dance?”

documenting the horror


When James visited town from NZ, there was a rash of pot-luck sort of gatherings at my place. Keith brought something dreadful, something terrible that should not have been named, let alone created… Poutine Pizza, the ultimate in drunk food. Sara, bless her heart and her strong iron stomach, not only ate some, she ate it cold.

norwescon recap

My ride: Gorgeous, bizarre, a massive vintage green beast of a machine bought off the Watchman when they dismantled the movie set. I hear it outside before Ross calls to say he’s arrived, loud, incredible, purring an actual vroom hrum hrum hrumph every time he hit the gas. A steel gas sucker, sure, and it needs to be tuned, but I love it. Talk about personality. We filled it with swords, of course, stuffing the trunk full of pointy things on the way down, and even more on the way back. Blades for sale, for hobby, for profit, for trade. You need something sharp and likely highly impractical, then Ross is your guy.

Norwescon itself was only slightly less colourful.

Tony and I are desultory congoers, lacking the rockstar fannish vibe, glad to see friends, but not terribly organized about the whole thing. (Seriously, the ratio of People I Looked For VS. People I Found borders on shameful. I love you people, where were you hiding?) Thursday we skipped altogether, because I am fail, and thought Kris was reading on Friday, and Friday we didn’t arrive until late, only in time to catch the end of the dance. Saturday we did much better. No panels, no readings, but lucky enough to find seats at the Kitten Sundae concert, a sweet and pretty band what is two bands combined: Vixy & Tony mixed with S.J. Tucker, aka Skinny White Chick. We also bid and won a space mouse in the art room, picked up some prints, and not only did I commission another replacement garnet ear cuff from Angela, I booked a shoot with her next week, which I expect will be tremendous fun.

All things must pass, however, and before we were swept up by anyone in particular, we crept away from social time to hide in our room to celebrate our proto-anniversary until evening, luxuriating in sloth, nibbling on a brought picnic of strawberries, chevre, vegetable crackers, and pepper salami slices, and watching Ghost, (more proof that Tony is more of a girl than me, yes), and Pretty Woman while naked in bed, refusing to emerge until it was time to dance/party. The rest of the night was made of boogie, dancing at various parties and in the main ballroom with Gustavo and Angel until our legs were fit to fall off, not getting to bed until five in the morning.

Sunday, we left in the early afternoon, taking light rail back into town with a girl named Shoshona, eating breakfast downtown, then passing out on the couch at home for five hours, wiped out completely and content.