So I went shopping over the weekend at this little consignment shop in a neighboring town that I absolutely love. I can always find some rare, interesting treasure in that shop that I absolutely must have and exhaust all my will power to not scream, “TAKE MY MONEY!!!” like a fucking lunatic and buy everything I see.

But on this particular trip (with a hostage I’d brought along for company), I found a gem that literally made me groan and roll my eyes… There, hanging up for display, were buttons (the pin kind, you know), all of which had different things printed on them: he/him, she/her, they/them, etc… I turned to my shopping hostage and said, “Oh look! Now you can wear your pronouns like labels! No one needs to ask anymore! How convenient!” And I said it a bit louder than I intended… because I’m fifty-fucking-one… I’m losing my hearing and don’t know how loudly I’m speaking half the time. I’ve also reached that age where I no longer care what the fuck I say 99.9% of the time. But I believe I offended the owner’s girlfriend (the owner being female also) and I didn’t mean to make her feel as if I’m against them being lesbians. I’m fine with that. But this pronoun shit?! Just no…

And this actually took me back to the weekend before when I’d spent time with a long time “friend” of mine. I don’t don’t if I’ve mentioned her before, so we’ll call her Roberta… There’s a history of falling outs between she and I, most because she began acting like she was better than me once she had finished college because I never went and because at some point she felt the relationships we were both in at the time were a competition even though I made it clear I didn’t want the same commitment this guy did. Yet she still felt she had to one up me. She’s weird… Anyway, our last discussion had started out pleasant, we were laughing and talking as we always had in the past and it was nice. Or it was until she suddenly changed into the “I’m better than you” mode and conversation turned to the politics of one of the biggest controversies in the world today, that being should we give children hormone blockers or give them hormone treatments to help them change themselves to appear as the opposite sex as what they were born… We did not see eye to eye on this subject. And this was where the issues started…

You’re probably wondering what the fuck my cat, Sebastian, has to do with this… I made an entry quite some time ago about his needing PU surgery because he could no longer pass during through his urethra because it’s so narrow through a cat’s penis. He kept getting blocked up and the only solution was to lop his knob off and reroute the urethra so he pees like a female, but he’s male. Essentially my cat had gender reassignment surgery to save his life… Look, I’m a hip cat mom, whaddaya know…

But that’s just it, isn’t it? These kids that want hormone blockers, that want hormones, at such a young age… They don’t know their assholes from their belly buttons yet. They don’t know who they are as a person, don’t feel accepted and feel so lost. But then here’s the trans community… They’ll accept you, with open arms, of course. It will only cost you your gender. But hey, what’s giving up what makes you you as long as you’re accepted, right? It’s not like you can’t reverse it, right…? Well… not everything… You can repair some things, but you’ll never be the same again, so you better be damn well sure this is what you want.

And then there are the wannabe “hip” parents… It’s trendy to have a trans child! Who doesn’t want one? So let’s groom our precious little miracle into thinking they were born into the wrong body so they can mutilate themselves and we can look hip and trendy by default! No… It doesn’t work that way. And, despite what Roberta thinks, “If they don’t start giving them hormone blockers or hormones, do you know how many of them will commit suicide?!” Do you know how gigantic an idiot you sound like when you say shit like that?! Listen, teens are going to self-harm and try to commit suicide no matter what for various reasons (I know, I tried it myself back when I was 16). But it always comes down to the same reason… They feel they don’t belong, feel isolated and unloved, like no one understands them. It’s not just because of “gender dysphoria”… It’s because they’re teenagers! That’s just how they’re made! But she began spitting all this shit out all this shit at me… And she made sure to tell me she has a trans friend. Good for you…I have two gay friends,, what’s your point? I’m not homophobic or transphobic. I just don’t believe we should allow children under eighteen to make this decision.

And, much to Roberta’s dismay, I don’t believe you’re being supportive by asking people their pronouns… I’m a grammar nerd; you only have certain choices in my book. If you’re a man or you look like a man, you get he/him. If you’re a woman or you look like one, you get she/her. Unless you have multiple personalities, there’s no way in hell I’m using they/them. You’re one person, singular… I refuse to use a plural pronoun for a single person because all the rules of grammar would haunt me (again, unless you have multiple personalities). And all these new pronouns people are making up? Just fucking no… So that’s where I stand. I’m cool with who you want to be, but don’t expect me to ask your pronouns. I call them like I see them.

So… now you know where I stand. I’m not transphobic. I just don’t think minors should medically transition because they’re not mentally mature enough and I’m pretty set on pronouns. What do you expect? I’ve been told I should have been an English teacher… I can’t help it…

I never did update you, dear readers, on how I’ve been… I guess because I’m just trying not to think about it and just going day by day (like the song here, see?) or I’d lose my marbles… The doctor’s appointment I had the day all the shit with Anakin began was to return a heart monitor I had to wear for 48 hours. I’d also finally scheduled my 6 month lung CT that I’d been putting off for a month. But Memorial Day really must have been one helluva celebration for medical staff. It took those fuckers a week and a half to post my results to my online chart and/or call me about them. The nodule in my lung has not grown any (thank god) which is a good sign that it’s just a funky nodule and nothing to worry about, but I still need to go for regular CT scans. That sucks… Now my heart monitor results… The nurse called and I never heard anyone so eager to get off the phone. “You had some rare, irregular beats in the upper chambers of your heart. No treatment is needed. Have a nice day.” What?!? I quickly said, “Wait! So… am I healthy?!” She just said yes, I didn’t need treatment and got off the phone. What the fuck… Great bedside manner…

Well… I got nothing from Nurse Ratched… I have a stress echo coming up at the end of the month, so I guess we’ll see what happens then. Sadly, the only person who ever gives me real answers is my cardiologist (and I don’t like this new guy, I miss the one who retired), but I don’t see him until November… Now, I was told when I saw him last to call in May for an August appointment because they don’t schedule that far ahead. Well, I was there in May, so I made the appointment and the soonest I could get in was November! I thought they didn’t schedule that far ahead… I really wish they’d make up my fucking mind, I really do… This is such fucking bullshit! It’s no wonder I need a fucking cardiologist, but they’re the idiots putting all this stress on my heart at the moment! Ugh… But that’s okay… I have my beautiful flower bed to work in and fuss over to help me relax an, you know, get cut to shreds in from the roses…

I also took up making hippie dippy bracelets!

Aren’t they pretty? I’m actually pretty proud of myself that I managed to do this myself! I decided that if other people could do it, why couldn’t I? So I went on Amazon and bought a bunch of these beautiful, natural stone beads and some of this polyurethane elastic thread to string them with. The bad part was that I bought 8mm beads and I thought they were a bit too big for what I wanted. So back to Amazon and I ordered all the same types (plus one extra one) in the 6mm. They were the exact size I wanted! The morning Anakin showed up at my house unannounced, this was what I was doing; I was relaxing and making bracelets. Or I found it relaxing until he showed up, anyway…

But this leaves me with the issue of what to do with all the 8mm beads I have that I didn’t use. I happen to like the flower jade (bottom right) so I decided to order more of that size so I have 108 of them plus some special beads, including two white jade lotus beads, so I can make a mala and a matching bracelet like I saw advertised on Facebook for “free”… Nothing that pretty is free. I didn’t trust it, but since I found the lotus beads, I’m making my own. I hope it works…

And apparently I’m a fashion influencer, hahahaa…

I had someone go out of their way to approach me Saturday to tell me she loved my necklaces… I’ve had people do this for my jewelry, my glasses, my outfits… I never know how to respond. I was the girl who got bullied all through high school because I was too poor to afford the latest fashion. I still don’t spend a lot of money on my stuff; I just buy what I like. I did then, too. But now I have people go out of their way to tell me how much they love whatever I’m rocking and I don’t know how to react… Compliments are something I’m unfamiliar with. I just smile uncomfortably and say thank you with as much gratitude I can muster while trying to figure out why they’re doing this and since when am I something to admire… Imagine, Jackie Blue: Fashion Influencer, hahahaa! At 51, influencing the young. Scary…