#I am not going to Quebec

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Why, thank you, mother. That easily avoidable false alarm was just what I needed this afternoon.

[thatmahblog]

The 3rd gender was legalized 2 years ago where I live and the government has been trying to avoid the decision of the court and postpone its application ever since. They made a commity to think about what the right thing to do is and it includes 0 trans or non-binary person. We got "sex" change certificates and new birth certificates, but what they refused this whole time was to update any IDs, rendering that "X" completely useless.

Anyways, the news came out and the law that passed 1131 days ago will finally be (fully) applied on October 10 (we get to have IDs that correspond to our legal identities!) People, like me, have been without a valid ID or valid (obligatory)(government) health insurance, this whole time, because they refused to give us IDs.

Huzzah!

I'm still angry.

First of all, that atrocious commity has not been called off, somehow. But let me paint you a picture, if you will listen to my story. I am so angry and wounded and nobody around me seems to give a shit.

The year is 2022, I am rejoiced that the X has been legalized and painstakingly fillout forms, back and forth, by (physical) mail. I have already burnt out and screamed in agony before from the absolute bullshit™ that changing my name was. I am sick and tired of seeing my chosen name next to an "F" and being called "mam'" everywhere I go, regardless of if they've seen my face or heard my voice yet.

After a long wait I get my papers and go to the health center to fill the paperwork to get my new ID. It's recent, their paperworks are not up to date, no surprise there, my standards are below the ground. I get lucky and this extremely nice employee does everything he can to figure this out for me. He writes out X on the form and we attach a copy of my certificate. Now I wait again.

My new card arrives in the mail! I can feel it through the envelop, I am buzzing with glee.

There's an "F" on the card.

I collapse on the floor of my appartment, scream and cry and call off work because I am having a mental breakdown.

Small independent online news cover the story of non-binary folks being deprived of an ID. Months of silence. Major news network finally publish something (nobody talks about it). The gorvernment says they'll put up a commity to make a wise decision about what is best to do with IDs (even if the law has already passed). Months and months and months pass.

The year is 2024, I have made a lot of advocacy and shared my strife about this whole shitshow two years ago. People who are close to me know, because I fucking care about my human rights being respected, being treated like a human being with dignity and the law being respected where it fucking should. I share the news that this great injustice who has caused undue pain to thousands is finally to be rectified.

Nobody.

Nobody fucking says anything or react to my post in any way at all.

And I remember all the way back when I got my name on my ID and I happily boasted it to others as a great news and as I was met with indifference, felt a pang in my chest.

Nobody cares.

It matters so much, it is life changing, I have done everything I could to properly express and explain this. There is so much pain and injustice and where there should finally be joy and celebration I am met with a void.

It's grim, but with the growing transphobia internationally, I fret and wonder : how much of this silence, of this show of indifference, is hatred, disgust, or rejection? Does my life mean so little to you? Do you not see trans rights as human rights? Do you not see trans people as human?

I don't know, I'm just really tired. I fought so hard for this, and it hurt a lot. I got treated like shit and saw my rights denied. I dealt with dysphoria and gritted my teeth, trying to forget about that damn X, 'lest it rot my brain with anger and grief. And finally, though I don't want to believe it till I see it, it truly seems like what I wanted and waited for this whole time is finally within reach...

I'm angry. I'm sad.

I'm hurt

I wish I wasn't.

I shouldn't have to be.

[siffrins-therapist]

At least I was able to write like 1200 words before a migraine left me nearly immobile for the rest of the day X/

Maybe I'm feeling sympathy pain for torturing poor Feli

[transgaysex]

i got hit with like. nauseating anxiety a couple hours ago and i dont know how to make it stop

[milokissa707]

So I don’t know if anybody here knows what the series “Canadian Provinces as roommates” by kpoke613 on TikTok is. But I can’t help but notice the similarities to wtttsh. I mean the series are obviously not the same, what I mean by similarities is the fact of real personifying landmasses(and making them annoy each other). Less politics more just Canadians annoying each other. I haven’t seen anybody talk about this yet but someone might’ve and if they did, please tell me. But it’s just too perfect not to mention. I mean, if you’re having trouble writing or coming up with ideas for the provinces of Canada, this might be a good reference piece for you. 

Also, this guy had an amazing series about just dissing the entire US, which I’m for one am for. Lots of other funny stuff good comedian. 

The video that I put down here is his channel, but if you tap the link, it will lead you to his channel. But he doesn’t have all the videos posted there.

Also, I re-watched one of the skits, and they refer to Alberta as their, sooo I don’t know deal with that too.

I should stop editing this!

[jellogram]

One of the funnier aspects of working for a travel company is that every time you return from some kind of trip you get interrogated. Not in a "coworkers making casual conversation" way, but in like a legit attempt to gather insider information. They want to know what you did and what the vibes were like and what kind of intel you have to share. You must take up the helm of being the expert on that location by providing photos and copy/articles for the website, and any time that location comes up again you will be called upon to do that piece. It's like collecting merit badges.

[foxmulderautism]

worst week of my life (i bought the wrong salad bag)

[randomoranges]

idk maybe cause i ran out of videos i wanted to repost my old ancient DECADE OLD iamp fics as well. idk why. these are old. but. once upon a time they lived here. then i accidentally deleted my blog. it’s been 10 yrs. [how how how how how] 

listen, we all know my go to is the soft moments and all about the “”human”” connections instead of the historical ones. also say what you will about how qcon was the main ship and such, but hey, being from qc it was an easy ship to explore. oh ya also i was also alwayyyyysssssss a bigger fan of using the human names since 5evr.  #shrugemoji #aucunsregrets;)

ANYWAYS - i didnt “”fix”” these fics up. i fixed up the odd typo i found and maybe one structure but i kept them as they were in their imperfect decade old state.

idk why i put a preamble. maybe in case anyone Wondered, 

IAMP

Bring Me Home

327

Based on a drawing Lomitzz made. At long last, I’m dipping into IAMP land.

Jean remembered being here, in this spot, or at least, the same building, before. It seemed every time Oliver was being shipped to the other end of the world, Jean would drive him to the airport, and then come pick him up, if he could, and if they were on speaking terms. It was almost like a private tradition.

 It would be one spot, when he left Oliver and another spot, when he would come and pick him up, but they were the same spots, all the time. He would stand in the same general area, by the same pillar and he would wait. One time, he would wait to see the last of Oliver’s curls disappear, behind the wall, the other time, he would wait to catch the same glimpse, of those same curls.

 Jean wished he would have known Oliver’s plane was going to be late, in order to sneak in a cigarette. He knew how much Oliver disliked the smell of smoke, and he tried not to smoke too much around him. He’d go outside when he could and when he remembered, but Oliver still complained about the smell and the taste that clung to his very being. Or so Oliver said.

 He frowned, as he looked at the arrivals pane. Flight AC117 was still marked as delayed. He heard someone say, a few minutes ago, that the plane had landed, but if it had, none of its passengers had come out.

 Oliver had left for one of his endless business trips, ten days ago. They were used to their hectic schedules, to Oliver’s constant traveling, for one reason and another, but for some reason, this time, it weighed on him. He wanted to hold Oliver close and listen to him prattle on about some detail, he could care less about, until they made it home. He wanted to sit on the couch, with him, and tug at his curls, gently, watching them bounce back, with rapt fascination.

 He must have been lost in his thoughts, for suddenly, he heard a distinct yowl and hiss. He looked in front of him, as his eyes focused, and he caught sight of the familiar curls he had been daydreaming about, and the ever present Maple Leafs jersey. Of course, if nothing else, the jersey would travel along. His scowl lessened and his stance relaxed, a little.

 Oliver walked over to him, his pace accelerating, as he pulled his suitcase and two travel cages. As he got closer, Jean heard Schrodinger’s angry hisses and Fred’s little plaintive mewls. He couldn’t say he had missed the cats. Definitely not Schrodinger, but Fred was okay. She found him to be okay, and that was okay with him. He didn’t have to worry about his every move, and his life, around her.

 He waved at them; to Oliver, really and Oliver gave him a smile and hurried his step. When he finally got to him, Jean took the travel cages from him and put them down. He then opened his arms and Oliver easily stepped up to him, throwing his arms around his neck. Jean hugged him back, holding him close, and buried his face in Oliver’s neck and hair. For now, this felt like home. He’d enjoy the feeling for as long as it lasted.

 Oliver let himself be held, leaning into Jean and he sighed, glad to be home, relieved and pleased that  Jean had come to pick him up. The flight had been long and tiring and it was nice to have a small something to look forward to.

 In all honesty, he had missed Jean, more than usual. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t about to start psycho-analysing it either. He snuggled closer in the embrace and felt Jean’s arms tighten around his waist.

 They stayed that way, for a moment, enjoying it for everything it was worth. They remained silent, exchanging words, through their embrace. It was hello and welcome back, I missed you, how was your trip, and all the I love yous they had never told each other, but that they had guessed, in the other’s actions and attentions.

 When they finally pulled back, Oliver smiled softly at him and Jean returned the gesture. He then took Oliver’s suitcase and Fred’s traveling cage, before looping their arms together. Oliver leaned into him a little and they both exited the airport, heading home.

 FIN 1

  Started writing: October 5th 2013, 6:52pm

Finished writing: October 5th 2013, 8:19pm

Started typing: December 17th 2013, 8:56pm

Finished typing: December 17th 2013, 9:12pm

[kitkatcadillac]

chaque matin je prends un café...

[candies-and-eyeliner]

Eat this watermelon. Fastest wins.

Le maître du jeu (Taskmaster Québec), S01E08

[lakecoded]

on GOD i am graduating 2024!!!!!

[supercantaloupe]

also i think it would be a lot easier for me to care about my french hw if it was like. analyze this chapter of some book or whatever. instead of. pretend you're applying to a job

[crypticschism]

I'm not confused you're trying to rape and kill me, just like you said you would not if I can help it.

[softmeetscreatureplz]

(..)

[worthlessdumbasspieceofshit]

i NEVER even asked to be born. and yet I suffer everyday. every day my taxes are FUCKING WASTED

the world truly is shit we don't even have a single government subsidized communist stripper-mimes club.

how are we supposed to release our tension?!

okI want my money back

[seat-safety-switch]

Even in Canada, most people don't know that Quebec has a distinct legal system. As part of the messy business of consensus-building that is our beautiful-but-rickety Confederation, they were encouraged to develop their own justice doodads and gewgaws. I am assured by many attorneys "in the know" on this side that it is a lot of fun to observe on vacation, like visiting Disneyland and marvelling at the idea of a spaceman who can shoot lasers and fly, but in a law-talking kind of way.

Max, my shark of a lawyer, is no exception. He was born and bred on this side of Gatineau. Unlike myself, he does not have a thriving (some would say over-thriving) group of relatives in la belle province. As such, he is normally forced to rely on the insanely expensive hotel system over there. Me, I just drive up and park a shitty car in wherever it will fit in Great-Uncle Cliff's ancestral home's backyard, and walk in for a rich breakfast of cretons and and croutons whenever I want (to spend several thousand dollars on gasoline and car maintenance.)

Once he heard about this, Max immediately demanded to go with me on a road trip to go see my family. While I was busy gladhanding and surreptitiously checking my cousin Chaise's garage for a Saab F40 six-speed manual transmission that he's not using, Max would be in a courthouse, thrilling to every oddball twist of fate in small-claims court and each confusing interaction. Somewhere outside Steinbech, he took a break from coughing up exhaust-coloured phlegm to excitedly show me the page in his autograph book that he was about to fill up with the signatures of all the chief judges. I warned him that he was getting a bit ahead of himself, and to temper his expectations.

Friends, it is a little strange bailing out your own attorney, but I can tell you the coffee shop next to the Palais de Justice is extremely choice. Max paid, of course. It was the least he could do after ruining Great-Uncle Cliff's big day in traffic court with all that flash photography.