Weekend in The Land

February 22, 2024, I attended an HRC volunteering event. The first of two scheduled Kandi events that I did not attend as Kandi. My recent fuck-up has left me, shall we say, unmotivated. Basically sick of me, sick of being me. As they made the presentation on the HRC (a worthy cause, albeit very political), there were more steering committee members attending than prospective volunteers. And I had to bite very hard on my tongue as I had to endure the damn pronoun thing. So many of them are “no shit, Sherlock” situations. I will never, ever, state my pronouns. Ever. Do not write them on name tags, will not announce them when introducing myself. If you want to ask what I prefer, I will basically point at myself as I am presenting. There is no ambiguity, I am male or I am female, pretty simple. This is one of many recent “get off my lawn” situations I have encountered.

I renewed my desire to assist with events and underscored my loathing for anything political. I was even asked to consider joining the steering committee. Love the goal of the HRC, support the cause with my time, but will not engage in the direct political endeavors. I talked at length about my belief that something slightly under 100% of all politicians could not care less about us, their constituents, about the country. They only care about their office and the trappings and benefits of those offices. I got very little push back on that.

February 23, 2024, the debut of Drive Away Dolls. I went to a 10:20AM showing. There were many more people at the huge multiplex than I expected and and if you did not include the employees, I was the youngest person there by a mile. And as you all know, I roamed the Earth with the dinosaurs (remember, as we have written about and chronicled my life here, I live dog years). There is a lot to unpack here. Again, this was not a Kandi outing. I did the early morning showing to be able to get my six-different-job ass back to work, but wanted to enjoy my big screen, wide-theatrical release debut!

First observation. I am literally the only human being in the theater. No one else. An older couple walks in and sits in my fucking row! What is wrong with people? The woman took at least ten minutes sanitizing their seats. Mild annoyance, but I am just so happy to be seeing this movie. Trying to simply pay for a box of Reece’s Pieces took a millennium as everyone in line, all from the Calvin Coolidge administration, was moving, shall we say, at a glacial pace.

Now let me set the scene here from my viewpoint. I was in the movie. I drew a paycheck and made two different trips to Pittsburgh (about an hour and a half from my driveway). I had wardrobe people working with me. I had professional makeup and hair, two different people. I was fed well, twice. I went through the then COVID screening. The movie set sprawled across a number of adjacent buildings. There were at least 60 other actresses having the very same experience. The place was covered with hundreds of people being paid. Equipment trucks, Hollywood people, caterers, carpenters, security, etc… On and on, hundreds of thousands of dollars of expenses. I was on set for I believe about ten hours. Okay, now let’s fast forward to my eager anticipation of watching the film. Ready?

It SUCKED! Unwatchable. Terrible. Remember the old couple who had to sit in my row. They were gone in about 30 minutes. I wanted to be them, but stuck it out to see, well me. The bar scene I was in? Maybe 60 seconds of the movie. All this money spent for that? What idiot greenlighted this dreck? The movie was shot under the working title “Lesbian Road Trip”. It should have been titled “Lesbian Sex Trip”. I am far from a prude, but the whole thing was about having lesbian sex, the plot was ridiculous (spoiler alert, the plot was about dildos, five very special dildos). Yes, there was a lot of sex and frankly, not with lesbians I wanted to see having sex. Did I see myself in the movie? No. Were we (me and my peers) in the credits? No. At least I did see a few people I knew in the movie. On the upside, the Reece’s Pieces didn’t disappoint!

As an aside to this lengthy post, nothing gives me more pleasure than writing. The paragraphs that precede this one brough me so much more pleasure than almost anything else you see me actually doing here. I can write baby! Now let me take that skill and if you would lend me a few bucks, I could afford a cup of gas station coffee…

February 24, 2024, back to work at Darlafoxx. Nothing of great note. A five hour shift. I greeted customers, made friends, steamed dresses and sat around a lot.

Sunday, February 25, 2024 back to work! Dar was hosting a Runway Challenge, which was in the same building (Cleveland’s Tower City, previously known as Terminal Tower). I helped in the store while the show was going on. Our friend, the mysterious Sherry, was helping out at the show, so it was great to see her. I saw quite a few of my friends from fashion circles, so it was wonderful to walk around gathering hugs. It was also feeding my wounded ego (from my stupidity a few days prior) as I got a lot of love on the outfit. This was a great one!

What was great was that I again experienced many people coming up, knowing my name, remembering me from somewhere else. I guess I get around……

There were a few memorable encounters, but I have rambled on way too much on this post. Next time you see me, I’ll spin a few tales from this day.