Rest in Peace?

Another young woman was killed in Edmonton because of fentanyl.  One of hundreds across the country in recent months.  This beautiful 20 year old is just a statistic to most people, I think we get numbed by all the senseless deaths we hear about each day.  I feel bad about that now.  This statistic had a name, a childhood, and a crying mother that called me last night to tell me. I had known her since she was 4 or 5.

I want her to rest in peace.

Why is that phrase only used for the dead?  I am so sick of the violence and hate in this world.  No wonder some people choose to escape with drugs.  I don’t condone it, but can see how it seems like the right choice for some.  What does it say about our society when bright loving young people would risk their life to escape what we have helped shape?  

We should all be able to rest in peace while we are alive.  More promising young people would still be alive if we could.


Changing World (Fiction)

Picking out the perfect person online is difficult.  Looking through all these profiles to find the right match and then left to wonder if I will be their perfect match, too.  I have already looked at the ones who thought I was their match, and ruled them all out for various reasons.  At least these profiles don’t complicate things with any insight into their personalities.  After all, its just their body I am interested in.

Sometimes I get nostalgic for the old days that I never knew.  Sure, the methods and outcomes may have been cruder back then, but maybe it was easier.  Judging from the stories of prejudice and discrimination in the history books, it wasn’t easier.  It is hard to believe now that those things actually went on, though.  Time and distance seems to have a way of romanticising.  Even wars can seem noble and romantic instead of gory and tragic, given enough time.

Enough daydreaming, back to the task at hand.  The database of profiles seems endless, but of course it’s not.  Once I narrow it down by geography, sex and age, it doesn’t seem so overwhelming.

This technique was perfected a few years ago.  The usual controversy accompanied it, but with the appropriate regulations, it is fairly standard in many countries now.  It was such a simple idea, match male bodies with female bodies, what could be easier.  Now anyone can register in the database in the hopes of finding a match.  Then they simply take your essence and swap it with the other persons.

Ok, not so simple.  I still don’t understand all of the mechanics of it..  Basically though, all of your thoughts, memories, brain patterns, everything that makes you who you are, except the physical body, is downloaded and put into the empty body of someone else.  Formerly someone else, technically.  

Some were worried that criminals would use it to escape justice.  Maybe rich people could use it to escape old age or disease.  That’s what the regulations are for.  All changes are between similar ages and health levels.  All of your old records go with the new body and fingerprints.  

So here I am, looking.  Back in the old days I would have been researching surgeons, I suppose.  That was how they used to do it.  Nowadays, if your sex and gender don’t match, you find your perfect other sex match online.  Only people wanting to switch can register.  After everything is settled, thirty-six hours at the clinic is all the change takes.  You both walk out in bodies you are more comfortable with.

Here’sone that could be a great match.  I will let them know I am interested, maybe I will get a positive response this time.

Shopping is Supposed to be Fun

Overall, it was a good weekend. I didn’t have to go to work.  I did spend about a half hour Sunday working at home, but that was really no big deal.

I was really excited about my Saturday.  I had an eye exam scheduled first thing, then planned to shop the rest of the day.  I was super excited to start my fall//work wardrobe.  I am getting quite anxious to present as female full time.  It bothers me when I pull out my old clothes to wear.  I don’t care about those clothes anymore and want rid of them.  As a result, I wear the same thing over and over and it probably shows that I don’t care about my clothes.  

The eye exam went great.  Perfectly healthy eyes and a new prescription for lenses that will make work and reading much easier.  Armed with this new prescription, it was time to pick out frames.  The young man who was to help me with this task asked if I wanted to change it up a bit and try a new look.  What an understatement! I said yes, I want feminine frames.  He was taken back a little, but was polite.  He asked me why, in a very respectful way.  After he was clear about it all, we had a great time picking out the new frames.  He was very kind and helpful and even helped me save more money.

After that, I couldn’t wait to shop.  My first stop was to be a great consignment store that has been super helpful in the past.  After a half hour train ride to the suburbs, I walked into the shop.  The clerk was with another customer across the store.  She asked if she could help me, and I told her I would just browse.  She informed me in a loud voice that they only had women’s clothes.  A few other customers looked up at this, and I simply replied, I know.  She then said, in a sarcastic tone, no men’s clothes.  More people looking at us. I said ok and walked out.  I was pissed and disappointed and totally out of the shopping mood.  Why should she care what I wear? Why would she choose to address me loudly in front of everyone else?  

After writing bad reviews of the store, the owner contacted me.  The ownership changed this past month and maybe that explains the change in attitude. 

The rest of the weekend was great, though. A whole nine hours of sleep Saturday night and shopping on Sunday.  I still was a little leary of shopping.  I didn’t buy anything, but went out looking.  I think I had to convince myself that Saturday was an isolated incident and not the norm.


I really had nothing in particular to write about, but some time to write a post, so I get to vent a little and hopefully it at least helps me.

Work is still very stressful.  A little more hopeful looking, but still not good. It took turning a three day weekend into a one day weekend to squeeze out the little bit of hope there is.  I was looking forward to some serious shopping for my new wardrobe over the weekend, but instead worked too much.

As a result of long hours at wkrk and constant stress, I don’t like this city!  Ok, I really do, but a break from the crowd would be nice. A few days without rude people pushing their way in front of me for the last spot on a train or bus would be nice.  Better yet, no rude people pushing their way in front of me for a spot on a nearly empty train or bus.  I get the feeling they do it just to be rude, I can’t think of any other rationalization for them.

Speaking of rude people, I am sick of excuses.  Some people seem to think misgendering, using a wrong name, or making sarcastic gender comments is ok if they can think of an excuse.  I am too old to remember/change, I have trouble remembering, and I don’t understand are the top ones I have heard so far.  Guess what, I personally do not understand being in a body that matches my gender, I have never experienced that, but I don’t use it as an excuse to be rude to you! I also really don’t need to be singled out, especially in front of others, and told I am not being lady like.  Being a woman in no way implies I am a lady, and I never will be if it means adhering to someone’s random stereotypes.

Ok, maybe I do feel a little better now.  Sorry to be so negative.  Something happened the other week that makes me smile when I think about it, hopefully you can get a chuckle from it.  A round, fat baby seal looked at me with his cute adorable face.  I swear he was smiling at me, then he let out a ripping loud fart 🙂