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Feb. 13th, 2012 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressSo, I went to the Fetish Fair Fleamarket on Saturday, which is pretty much *the* big general kink thing available to the Boston area, despite technically being held in Providence. (There are, as I know it, lots of more specific things, and *lots* of more invite-only things, but the only Event that anyone can go to that caters to "kink in general" is the Flea. If I am wrong about this, someone should absolutely correct me.)
I went with my sir1, and a lot of the goal was an experiment in us being out somewhere together and able to be actively having -not just a relationship dynamic, which we can do by holding hands as we wander through Boston- but a visible kink dynamic. This was his first time at that sort of event, and my practically-first, and the two of us pretty well planned to cling to each other to get past the fish-out-of-water feelings.
1: My sir, who is not Sparr. I feel I need to point this the fuck out because people keep getting it wrong, and it annoys the ever-living fuck out of me and sir1, 2. Please don't make this mistake.
2: In the middle of writing this post, Sparr (who is reading over my shoulder3, 4) and I had a discussion about styles of referring to people --whether you explain a relationship once or whether you make sure to link to the person every time. I realized that this could be a *primo* opportunity for me to link to a footnote within that very footnote. Hell. Fucking. Yes!
3: Normally reading over my shoulder is a strict no-no, but there are several factors which is making it okay right now --he actively asks if he can read my writings more than most people, I'm writing something I'm going to post, I'm allowed to be reading his post he's writing, etc.)
4: Okay, this is just getting fucking ridiculous, even for me. Now to see if I can correctly get the correct number of </small> tags.
Due to a minor fuck-up at work (I asked for Saturday the twelfth off, my boss assumed I meant "the twelfth" and not "Saturday") the entire week before it became a game of "will-we-won't-we", including me contacting sir on Thursday to say I was really sorry and definitely couldn't go, and again Friday morning to say that we could, but only after one, as I had switched shifts with the girl working in the morning. STRESS EVERYWHERE, which is not an optimal away to do things, but sir is *awesome* and patient and far more wonderful than I deserve, and did not chide me for being an irresponsible fool anywhere near as much as I was chiding myself.
So, Saturday morning I woke up (after three hours of sleep, urk) at six, biked four miles, worked an intense six hour shift (holy fuck, mornings have ALL THE CUSTOMERS and I forget that because I only ever work close), biked four miles, put on a pretty dress and drove us to the Flea. We arrived in Providence around three fifteen or so, and by three thirty, had bought badges and were standing around going "uh...now what?" So we decided the logical thing to do was go shopping, which was a very nice way to wander around and get to know what was going on.
The shopping went nice, even though I am broke and fiscally responsible (so my answer to "should I buy this for you?" is almost5 always "no.") Along the way we stopped by the whip room, which was giving free teaching, and serving as a practise space. I got an explanation of the basics, and a chance to whip at the pictures of breasts and cow-udders hanging around the perimeter of the room --I don't think it's ultimately my thing (too precise), but it was fun to try.
5: The exception is thirty feet long, pale copper, and curled up in my bag right now. <3
We stopped by the rope room to say hi to a couple friends of mine, and wound up getting distracted by a casual friend of mine and his companion, a cute girl with a bright blue mohawk and nothing on above the waist except a few pieces of electrical tape. I asked if I could examine her rope marks and she gave cheerful assent. While admiring her back, I found my eyes following a strangely familiar curve of scar tissue --I undid my dress and we confirmed that we totally are scar-buddies, both from heart surgery at youngish ages. Let me tell you internet, it was pretty cool to actually get to examine "my" scar from an outsider's perspective --its placement makes close admiration difficult.
After the rope room closed, sir and I decided it was probably about time for a food. We walked to the nearby mall, where we spent a length of time eating, and then at least that time or longer talking to lovely people we knew or were interesting (including a girl with a number of braids and excellent muted-rainbow stockings, who has business cards declaring herself both a PhD and a toymaker. Yes. Please!)
By the time we wandered back to the Flea, everything was in that awkward space between the main dealer halls closing and all the parties starting up. We wandered up and down the hotel room based dealer's row for a while, lamenting the fact that everyone we cared about at the con were probably doing the same thing, and there was no good centralized location to go to to find them all. Finally we sat for a bit and talked to other friends who passed by, including the aforementioned toymaker. She is very local to me. I have...intentions, although they're pretty much all of the "aug! You are smart and rad and into cool stuff, will you be my friend? Can we do the kindergarden thing where we just decide to be friends now?" sort.
On our next wander around the hotel, we passed a sign advertising a free Dr. Sketchy's event. After an unnecessary scurry for paper (I got some from the lobby desk and then found out that the event hosts had a stack of cheap drawing pads), we found ourselves sitting with eight to ten other artists, frantically sketching the pretty people in elaborate masks and poses. It was a complete delight to participate, and both sir and I are more determined to go to a "real" Dr. Sketchy's sometime.
By the time we were all drawn out, the Hypno-party was starting up. A friend/occasional date of mine was helping host, so we went on up to say hi and enjoy the social. I wound up having a scintillating chat about Homestuck with a young gentleman (inspired by the fact that I was carrying my Senator Lemonsnout plushie around the whole time on a length of rope --thank you Lex!!) while our respective partners rolled their eyes at our geekiness and apparently discussed xxxenophile. The main host of the party broke up our conversation by asking the other woman if she'd like to get hypnotized now, and I got my first chance of witnessing a (partial) hypnosis scene6. As it went on, a few more of my friends showed up, including one with her long hair done up in exceptionally pretty rope. We spent a long while at the party, before going back to wandering about.
6: Hypnosis is not particularly my bag, but I got a request a few months back from an occasional play partner asking if I'd be interested in topping it for him. I told him I'd see about it, and have been slowly trying to pay attention to it since.
The rest of the night included more wandering, and trying to catch up with a particular pair of friends who we hadn't seen all weekend. They turned out to be in a panel, so I wound up napping in sir's lap while we waited for them to get out. By that point it was late enough that I wanted to get back on the road, so unfortunately we didn't have a chance to try and play with them any --just walk them up to their room and go back to the parking garage to collect the car.
Unfortunately, as we stand outside in the middle of Providence without our coats (because "it's nice out, let's leave them in the car!") at the entrance to the parking garage, we find that it is locked and barred until morning. Well...shit.
Cue us scurrying back to the warmth of the hotel, discussing strategies and swearing a lot as we go. A tentative phone call to the friends we had just seen --I got as far as "So the parking garage is locked..." before I was interrupted with "Do you want to crash in our room?". These are officially the best people now, and sir and I fully intend to take them out to dinner sometime, at the very least.
The hotel gave us a cot (and me a toothbrush, sir had packed his own) and we spent a sleepy half-hour chatting with them before everyone conked right out. The morning became rushed as I realized I had to work an hour earlier than I thought, and we got hopelessly lost escaping from Providence. As we gained access to 95, I called work to tell them half an hour late --figuring that would be enough of a safety net.
I mostly mellowed on the drive, burst into tears right before getting on my bike for the work commute, and forced myself to listen to VERY LOUD music as I rode. I turned out to be fifteen minutes late, and neither of my coworkers cared in the slightest, because they are wonderful people.
The rest of Sunday was work, then off to Diesel to catch the tail end of the TNG munch with Sparr. Today was my blessed day off, and I slept forever, ran errands, and bought a pair of shoes at the Goodwill that will be very useful for a vague cosplay project I keep thinking about doing. I'm aiming to have that one done by June, unlike my Secret Awesome Project which I want to debut at Balticon and "everything else" which can probably be saved until D*Con. But that's a post for another time.
Hope y'all are taking good care of yourselves and whatnot.
~Sor
MOOP!
I went with my sir1, and a lot of the goal was an experiment in us being out somewhere together and able to be actively having -not just a relationship dynamic, which we can do by holding hands as we wander through Boston- but a visible kink dynamic. This was his first time at that sort of event, and my practically-first, and the two of us pretty well planned to cling to each other to get past the fish-out-of-water feelings.
1: My sir, who is not Sparr. I feel I need to point this the fuck out because people keep getting it wrong, and it annoys the ever-living fuck out of me and sir1, 2. Please don't make this mistake.
2: In the middle of writing this post, Sparr (who is reading over my shoulder3, 4) and I had a discussion about styles of referring to people --whether you explain a relationship once or whether you make sure to link to the person every time. I realized that this could be a *primo* opportunity for me to link to a footnote within that very footnote. Hell. Fucking. Yes!
3: Normally reading over my shoulder is a strict no-no, but there are several factors which is making it okay right now --he actively asks if he can read my writings more than most people, I'm writing something I'm going to post, I'm allowed to be reading his post he's writing, etc.)
4: Okay, this is just getting fucking ridiculous, even for me. Now to see if I can correctly get the correct number of </small> tags.
Due to a minor fuck-up at work (I asked for Saturday the twelfth off, my boss assumed I meant "the twelfth" and not "Saturday") the entire week before it became a game of "will-we-won't-we", including me contacting sir on Thursday to say I was really sorry and definitely couldn't go, and again Friday morning to say that we could, but only after one, as I had switched shifts with the girl working in the morning. STRESS EVERYWHERE, which is not an optimal away to do things, but sir is *awesome* and patient and far more wonderful than I deserve, and did not chide me for being an irresponsible fool anywhere near as much as I was chiding myself.
So, Saturday morning I woke up (after three hours of sleep, urk) at six, biked four miles, worked an intense six hour shift (holy fuck, mornings have ALL THE CUSTOMERS and I forget that because I only ever work close), biked four miles, put on a pretty dress and drove us to the Flea. We arrived in Providence around three fifteen or so, and by three thirty, had bought badges and were standing around going "uh...now what?" So we decided the logical thing to do was go shopping, which was a very nice way to wander around and get to know what was going on.
The shopping went nice, even though I am broke and fiscally responsible (so my answer to "should I buy this for you?" is almost5 always "no.") Along the way we stopped by the whip room, which was giving free teaching, and serving as a practise space. I got an explanation of the basics, and a chance to whip at the pictures of breasts and cow-udders hanging around the perimeter of the room --I don't think it's ultimately my thing (too precise), but it was fun to try.
5: The exception is thirty feet long, pale copper, and curled up in my bag right now. <3
We stopped by the rope room to say hi to a couple friends of mine, and wound up getting distracted by a casual friend of mine and his companion, a cute girl with a bright blue mohawk and nothing on above the waist except a few pieces of electrical tape. I asked if I could examine her rope marks and she gave cheerful assent. While admiring her back, I found my eyes following a strangely familiar curve of scar tissue --I undid my dress and we confirmed that we totally are scar-buddies, both from heart surgery at youngish ages. Let me tell you internet, it was pretty cool to actually get to examine "my" scar from an outsider's perspective --its placement makes close admiration difficult.
After the rope room closed, sir and I decided it was probably about time for a food. We walked to the nearby mall, where we spent a length of time eating, and then at least that time or longer talking to lovely people we knew or were interesting (including a girl with a number of braids and excellent muted-rainbow stockings, who has business cards declaring herself both a PhD and a toymaker. Yes. Please!)
By the time we wandered back to the Flea, everything was in that awkward space between the main dealer halls closing and all the parties starting up. We wandered up and down the hotel room based dealer's row for a while, lamenting the fact that everyone we cared about at the con were probably doing the same thing, and there was no good centralized location to go to to find them all. Finally we sat for a bit and talked to other friends who passed by, including the aforementioned toymaker. She is very local to me. I have...intentions, although they're pretty much all of the "aug! You are smart and rad and into cool stuff, will you be my friend? Can we do the kindergarden thing where we just decide to be friends now?" sort.
On our next wander around the hotel, we passed a sign advertising a free Dr. Sketchy's event. After an unnecessary scurry for paper (I got some from the lobby desk and then found out that the event hosts had a stack of cheap drawing pads), we found ourselves sitting with eight to ten other artists, frantically sketching the pretty people in elaborate masks and poses. It was a complete delight to participate, and both sir and I are more determined to go to a "real" Dr. Sketchy's sometime.
By the time we were all drawn out, the Hypno-party was starting up. A friend/occasional date of mine was helping host, so we went on up to say hi and enjoy the social. I wound up having a scintillating chat about Homestuck with a young gentleman (inspired by the fact that I was carrying my Senator Lemonsnout plushie around the whole time on a length of rope --thank you Lex!!) while our respective partners rolled their eyes at our geekiness and apparently discussed xxxenophile. The main host of the party broke up our conversation by asking the other woman if she'd like to get hypnotized now, and I got my first chance of witnessing a (partial) hypnosis scene6. As it went on, a few more of my friends showed up, including one with her long hair done up in exceptionally pretty rope. We spent a long while at the party, before going back to wandering about.
6: Hypnosis is not particularly my bag, but I got a request a few months back from an occasional play partner asking if I'd be interested in topping it for him. I told him I'd see about it, and have been slowly trying to pay attention to it since.
The rest of the night included more wandering, and trying to catch up with a particular pair of friends who we hadn't seen all weekend. They turned out to be in a panel, so I wound up napping in sir's lap while we waited for them to get out. By that point it was late enough that I wanted to get back on the road, so unfortunately we didn't have a chance to try and play with them any --just walk them up to their room and go back to the parking garage to collect the car.
Unfortunately, as we stand outside in the middle of Providence without our coats (because "it's nice out, let's leave them in the car!") at the entrance to the parking garage, we find that it is locked and barred until morning. Well...shit.
Cue us scurrying back to the warmth of the hotel, discussing strategies and swearing a lot as we go. A tentative phone call to the friends we had just seen --I got as far as "So the parking garage is locked..." before I was interrupted with "Do you want to crash in our room?". These are officially the best people now, and sir and I fully intend to take them out to dinner sometime, at the very least.
The hotel gave us a cot (and me a toothbrush, sir had packed his own) and we spent a sleepy half-hour chatting with them before everyone conked right out. The morning became rushed as I realized I had to work an hour earlier than I thought, and we got hopelessly lost escaping from Providence. As we gained access to 95, I called work to tell them half an hour late --figuring that would be enough of a safety net.
I mostly mellowed on the drive, burst into tears right before getting on my bike for the work commute, and forced myself to listen to VERY LOUD music as I rode. I turned out to be fifteen minutes late, and neither of my coworkers cared in the slightest, because they are wonderful people.
The rest of Sunday was work, then off to Diesel to catch the tail end of the TNG munch with Sparr. Today was my blessed day off, and I slept forever, ran errands, and bought a pair of shoes at the Goodwill that will be very useful for a vague cosplay project I keep thinking about doing. I'm aiming to have that one done by June, unlike my Secret Awesome Project which I want to debut at Balticon and "everything else" which can probably be saved until D*Con. But that's a post for another time.
Hope y'all are taking good care of yourselves and whatnot.
~Sor
MOOP!