Yes, I’m back from a fabulous week long vacation in very hot and humid Florida. We had time on the beach, we had time in the pool, we had time for naps and sleeping in. We were fed amazing food in large quantities. I gained weight, I became well-rested, I enjoyed the time away with my family. I added to my massive freckle collection and deepened the farmer’s tan on my shoulders and arms. It felt good to not feel the gravitational pull of work and tasks and go!go!go! for a few days. I wish I could afford more time off, it would certainly be good for my mental and physical health and I’d love to have more time for writing. That’s something I was able to indulge in while on vacation, I pulled open my laptop — offline — and added to some stories that I really love and have high hopes for.
My wife passed a birthday milestone while we were away, we celebrated her 40th birthday party with a really nice seafood dinner at a restaurant on the Indian River (I had a beautiful and delicious tuna steak). Her father and step-mom gifted her with a PowerBall ticket and we had some fun fantasizing about what we’d do with all that money. One of the first things was: I wouldn’t have to work unless I wanted to, doing things I wanted to do. I also fantasized with her about building a writer’s hut where I could seclude myself and concentrate. Ahhhh.. fantasies can be so much fun. But, no, she didn’t have a winning ticket.
We came home and I got sick within 36 hours — sinus pressure, ears plugged up, post-nasal drip, coughing, slight fever. Ugh. It has been over a week since the last day of vacation and I feel better, but wish I could have held onto that post-vacation glow a little longer.
As proof that there is no rest for the wicked, after only two days home, we hosted my wife’s 40th birthday party. I was fully ill by then and grateful that my mother-not-in-law was visiting and able to help prepare food trays. Another friend visited Friday night through Saturday morning and was able to help with a lot of outdoor prep. Thank goodness because I could only work for about 30 minutes at a time before lying down for an hour. My main job was keeping the baby happy and occupied. I felt pretty guilty about all the work my wife had to do for her own party, but she was very understanding and only asked that I ‘rally’ for the party itself.
We had a nice group of people attend the party, time to visit and catch up with everyone and plenty of good food and drink to share. The next day, I collapsed and gave in to my illness.
A few announcements:
Butch Voices Portland: My session on Genderqueer was accepted by Jay Walls and the rest of the programming committee for Butch Voices Portland. I’m excited and very nervous. I’m not academically educated in gender or sexuality studies, so I’m hoping my 40+ years of personal research will be enough to engage a group of people on this topic. I’m sure to learn a lot from the participants, and that’s the real win for me: meeting other genderqueers and learning from their explorations of identity and gender. Roxy will also be at this conference, as my Registration co-chair and partner in crime. She’s also volunteered to be the stage manager for Saturday night’s Butch Buffet variety show (with me as her backstage minion *grin*).
FOLSOM!!! In less than 4 weeks, I’ll be heading to San Francisco to participate in that festival of debauchery, kink and leather known as the Folsom Street Fair. My lovely hostess will be the thoroughly perverted and lovely Roxy. We’ve been scheming, planning and challenging each other about this since last year. I’ll be proudly wearing my collar and lead by leash, doing my best to be the humble and obedient boy you all know I strive to be. And if I don’t, Sir will put me right back in my place. We’ll be cruisin the Fair, soaking in the sights and seeing who we recognize (and who recognizes us). We’ve got two nights of dungeon play planned. Saturday night, we’ll be at the Citadel where I will be on full display and Roxy will be inviting a special guest star to play with us* … maybe we can make a game of guessing who that might be. The second night, we’ll be at the Citadel again for the Eclipse party. Roxy’s got some special ideas for that night as well and is eager to introduce me to her friends. It’s been too, too long since we were able to sink ourselves into each other and we’re giddy about spending so much time together.
* I was in the middle of writing that sentence when I realized that I was feeling kind of shy about telling y’all about the other person we’ll be playing with. Our scene will be the culmination of a lot of talk and negotiation and discussion, and years of Kyle fetishizing certain situations and types of people. I’m sure some of you would love to know who it is and some of you probably do, but I don’t know yet if he wants to be outed yet. Oh, there’s a clue, yes, it’s a ‘he’.
Ivan Coyote’s latest column, Shemanifesto, is a must read for all who are navigating the sometimes troubled waters around butches, pronouns and transgender people of all kinds. Ivan is clear, positive and generous in her attempt to broker a peace settlement across the butch-transsexual boundary. In fact, she goes further, questioning the existence or need for such a boundary. This column crystallizes a lot of things that were rumbling around in my head, thank you, Ivan.
SilverDayDreams wrote this a while ago, but you should check it out of you’re a tweeter, So You Wanna Follow Me? She expresses a bit frustration over how people sometimes respond to her tweets and has posted a set of guidelines some may find useful, “If you’re going to tweet to kinky girls (or to any girl for that matter), there’s some basics that you should know….”
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