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About Me....

um... who me? uh i guess i'm the lounge's resident tranny. old school bustie formerly known as butta.

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 | Category: life
entry Jul 23 2007, 11:42 PM
the main reason it's been so good is that i realized i've got some really good people in my life. people who allow me to grow and change. i came to this realization when t came back into town. i was house sitting for her (cat hell week), and was just leaving her house when she arrived by taxi. i helped her bring her bags up and, while at first she offered to give me a ride to my place, she decided that she was hungry and wanted to go to lunch. i will never understand my friends capacity to put up with my perpetual brokeness. but they are super sweet and they do.

i have to admit i have a crush on t, but then, i have atleast a small crush on all of my girlfriends. i idolize and idealize them. i know their flaws, but do my level best to over look them, but more often than not i think they are just the shit. part of my crush on t has to do with her thick legs. i just love thick legs i love looking at them drawing them, touching them (not that i would do that to t, i'm just saying). that, however, is far from her only virtue. she is a graphic designer, and treats me as an artistic peer, even though i don't do art as an occupation. all the same she has been one of the biggest boosters of my art. she also loves much of the same music i do. not necc'ly current music, but we can talk about 80's soul/r+b, hip hop, and alt. it sounds like that is not a big deal but i love obscure music, and someone who loves ready for the world as much as i do....? well that's hard to find.

at lunch, she gave me the rundown on the soap opera that is her neighborhood. and it is a soap opera, trust me. the latest is a friend of hers whose hubby is sleeping with a girl who could only be described as certifiable.

it's good to talk to her. she, like me also has a love of all things odd, criminal or morbid. i put her up on a book that is a long time favorite of mine, luc sante's lowlife. which is a criminal history of turn of the century nyc. then we talked a mutual favorite book, geek love, and i talked about the b-day present i'm working on for her. it's about 2 years over due, but she doesn't mind. she is just happy that i'm making something one of a kind for her.

a few days later i am preparing to go over to my friend r's for the night. r used to be my madam, back when i was escorting. i also worked the phones for her business. i was actually kind of nervous to see her again. the last time we hung out she was getting off some bad meds she was addicted to, and, well it was ugly. she had moved back into town about 3 mos ago, and we had been mutually making and flaking on dates since she arrived. i think we were both a bit weary.

i had a bad feeling about the night, she moved in to the bottom floor of a house of some people who were also involved in the escorting business, a gay couple. they are nice guys, but well the three of them drink. hard. i don't really drink all that much anymore. i have three speeds: sober, buzzed, or vomiting, with not much space inbetween. so i am a slow drinker as much out of weariness as out of habit.

when she called me she asked if i was wearing a skirt. i said, i wasn't but she insisted i did, saying" i would never wear jeans if i had those long, beautiful legs, and that great ass... i could die happy." so i switched to my favorite skirt, a stretchy black pencil skirt that gives me an hour glass-ish figure. problem was, i had no underwear that i could use to tuck-- they were all dirty. no matter which i picked i would have a bit of a large bulge that was, if you looked closely, rather revealing....

she took about 2 hours to get to me (after complaining that i always took too long to get ready. hmph! as i try to explain to people, you have to give me a deadline. i've got an artist's temprament-- you give me too much time i start playing with my make up or finding flaws in what i'm wearing, and then we're off to the races. i've got to change everything.

i barely recognized her. she's lost a lot of weight, to be sure, but the kicker is that she's got her hair sandy beach-blonded. she's still wearing too much make up. in seattle a very defiant act-- women look at you like you're crazy for dressing up for most things, let alone wearing half the make up she does. the exception to the rule of course is if you are 'ethnic'. if you are black, latina, or asian, you can get dressed up for anything, but white people usually dress down. it's changing, of course.

this must be the 3rd of 4th wave of californians she's riding in on. shouldn't badmouth californians, since i moved up here from oakland/berkeley/san francisco more than 10 years ago. but, well i'm going to. californians have fucked this city up. but what do i expect. they fucked sf up. last time i visited the bay it liked to break my heart. my old hood, the mission had gone from being a beautiful little enclave island of latin culture. mexican, latin families crowded the sidewalks and low riders paraded by to a seranade of sunshine and ranchero music blaring out of every open window. every other shop sold super tacky furnature or taquerias.

when i last saw it had been ruined by that human termite/leach known as yuppies/dot-com-ers. they had turned the entire area to a horrible hive of condos and pretentious fucks, upscale boutiques and tiny fancy resturaunts. the only remant of mexican culture was the mission itself. the only thing they couldn't buy....

and so goes seattle. my old hood here of capitol hill has 3 new condos everytime i visit, and i heard that 3 of my favorite bars were closing because the people who owned the block were demolishing everything to make way for more-- ugh-- condos. everything that i love-- save the weather, which, luckily has gotten more surly-- is evaporating. two of those bars were quintessentially seattle-- one of them, linda's was a a bar with a neon light in the window that read :"fresh bait, tackle" the interior of it was like an old trucker bar-- a logger theme, with log walls and humble furnature. i remember when it opened. this was a city of dive bars. the rendevous got an up grade, sadly. it used to be an old mob bar, and had a little screening room where the movie owners would watch movies and get loaded while bidding on them. the room, i'm sure was once opulant, but had obviously fallen on hard, punk rock times. it also had an old cold locker that had been turned into a room for the hard core down and outers by adding a picnic table. yeah. the kind that you put in your back yard for the family to eat at durring the summer. picnic tables were not uncommon in seattle bars. one of the lone survivors of the traditional seattle dive bars is the legendary comet, which has a couple of the tables, along with 40 years worth of neglected graffiti, walls pockmarked with holes from bar brawls, thrown mugs, stray feet missing their targets of someone ass. i still miss places like the gibson, refuge of bike messengers, with it's sad, gaiety girl decor, menu of horrible chinese food, punk rock karaoke, and the biggest fishbowls of long island ice teas in town. ahhhh getting drunk for only $6.

how funny that i'm bitching about californians when half of my friends moved here from there.

r looks good. happy. for a second i day dream about when we were lovers, brief as it was. i miss her raspy, whiskey soaked voice, a strange counter point to her perky almost cheerleader-perky personality. and her smell. something and cigarettes. heh. i always did have a weakness for smokers.

she's my only friend who gets her nails done. all my friends give me grief and heckle me the 3 or 4 times a year i do. i'm glad she's back in town. she tells me i look beautiful. she hasn't seen me since i was early in my sounds nice to hear. i miss how she makes space for me to be myself at my most femme. the skirt is a case in point. she knows i rarely wear them, but insists on it. she knows me so well and i am glad of it. as much as i love my friends, i also keep things from them. my life has always been so compartmentalized. it can't be helped. after a while you figure out that most people have a fixed idea of you, and it only has so much elasticity-- and there is a breaking point. a lesson learned the hard way when i came out to my family and friends as trans....

she's a terrible driver. she's to busy telling me about her mom's questions about me, and where i am in my transition, and her hilarious attempts at being either polite or politically correct. r knew me back when i still stubbornly stuck with my boy name... even though i had boobs and lived full time. god, i really do always do things the hard way, don't i? she also fills me in on how the guy she's seeing is jealous that i'm going to be staying over, sleeping in her bed with her. i doubt anything would happen. we're just trying to figure out where we are, and if we still like each other to start....

we spend the night putting up fake ads on craig's list getting drunk. i wanted to do a goofy fetish ad titled "weenies n beanies" from a girl with a pork and bean fetish, but j, from upstairs insists we title the first ad, "feces pieces"

and we concoct the very revolting ad that follows:

i love to have it given to me hard, and if you don't mind a little mess, hell a LOT OF MESS, then you are the man i'm looking for! i want someone to fuck the shit out of me, and i've got a hotel room so we don't have to clean up! let's be poop flinging monkeys together!
what can brown do for you?

strangely there were no responses. i wonder why? r got restless and put in another ad. i was pissed because she got an ton of pix-- face pics-- wtf?!? i can post that i lost my puppy, and i will get nothing but dickpics! argh!

in the morning we hung out and had breakfast. she told me about her work. i am so proud of her. she has been working her ass off, and turned her life around. in a lot of ways, she's a role model for me, and it dawns on me that there has been a void in my life where she was. it's good to have friends like her. who let me be a different part of me, and at the same time inspire me. i am very glad she's back....

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sk8 boarding with a long board,
skateboard drifting
street art/stickers/graff/stencils
thriftin' and liftin'
asian cinema- particularlly korean films, movies from the 60's + 70's, screwball comedies of the 30s-40's, german expresionist film, horror and film noir, neo-noir, sci-fi particularly dystopias, self-reflexive film. film theory.
almost any genre of musics, particularly soul, r&b, jazz, blues, old, new and true school hip-hop, jump blues, jazz vocals, "incredibly strange music", "golden throats", odd covers, asian underground, cock rock, hair metal, j and k pop and hop, the "countrypolian" sound, rockabilly, surf, soundtracks and theme songs, swing, big band, lounge, tradional ez listening, bossa-nova, international pop.
subcultural histories. asian subcultures, american subcultures, historical tangents, politics,
gender theory, queer theory,
feminism, feminist theory, feminist film theory,
transgendered issues.

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