Thank you, Drexy. I don't know if the pickle juice was an influence.
We just had our Pride weekend in San Francisco, preceded by Trans March. The March is still a protest march, rather than the official Pride celebration on Saturday and Sunday.
I don't go to the Sunday commercial Pride event any more. It doesn't feel right to be a spectator watching corporate floats go by, rather than a participant.
Saturday is traditionally the big lesbian celebration, Dyke March, and in the past has welcomed all lesbian identifying people, including people of color and women who happen to be transgender. While that was the official policy, this event had some distinctly unwelcoming moments.
A group outside the Good Vibrations store was swarming and shouting at trans women as they passed. One of my friends shouted back and was struck on the back by a walking stick with a brass head, wielded by a woman in a dark tank top and leggings. She's OK, just bruised and sore.
Dyke March is off my To Do list now. That isn't the sort of "community" I care to associate with.
I finished out Saturday cooling off at a friends house at an informal pool party, with other local trans women and some SOs. That was nice in the 100 degree inland heat.
Sunday I did my Worship Associate thing at church, while wearing my trans pride dress. [emoji4] I gave a three minute speech on the history of the Pride event and why it is celebrated.
Monday I was back to electrolysis, a two hour "fuzz hunt" at this point. Next week we will spend my appointment on tidying up the eyebrows. [emoji16]
My girlfriend has been doing some neat stuff too. I'm very proud of her, but she can tell you the details if she cares to.
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