A Weak Ending

Another week goes by so fleetingly. Time is defiantly relative. My weeks seem to go twice as fast at 40, as they did when I was 10. At this rate if I make 80, a week will seem like a sleepover. Gosh that's a sobering thought, that whichever way I look at it I'm probably past half way now so I guess by now I'm slowly dying a week at a time. I just wish the weeks seemed longer.

Question Of Solace

What sort of blogger would I be if I didn't rip off the latest James bond film.
Its actually quite apt as I sit on another crowded Tuesday train to London, tapping this bit out on my blackberry whilst listening to bond themes. At the moment its "You only live twice" (once is enough for me). Spookily when I tapped out the word apt on this strange predictive Blackberry qwerty keyboard the word apt comes up as initially as spy. Dull point of note is that the qwerty predictive unput method doesn't like the word qwerty!
I have now written few dozen words and all I've gone on about is the words. If I am not careful I will disappear up my own backside in puff of blogging smoke.

In the latest bond film which I haven't yet seen, bond is looking for a Quantum of Solace after the death of his love Vespa in the previous film, or something. When the title was first released I among many, thought what a stupid title, but by now the title makes some sense. I guess everyone, whatever their situation in life at some time seeks enough solace just to keep going. Saying that, for some of the people of the world, their degree of suffering make finding their Quantity of Consolation must be well nigh impossible. Some of us born to relative prosperity are often heard to utter "well, at least there are some worse off than us" as we moan and whine about our negative equity, the price of petrol or some such irk of life. After all, isn't that what blogging was invented for. However, to gain Solace and comfort from others suffering is just plain wrong. I know that's not what people think of when compare ourselves to others, but a little musing behind the words does no harm  A healthy measure of guilt at our advantages should always rest somewhere in the recesses of our mind's, while we sit back and let the callous inequalities of the world stand unchallenged. The quantum of solace that we look for, should be that we have done everything in our power to change the world for the better. Only when we have exhausted every ounce of energy to make a difference should we gain solace for our privilege. I'm acutely aware of my hubris, as I sit here typing away on my expensive and ultimately unnecessary gizmo. I will probably spend as much of the day moaning that my comfortable train is 10 minutes late or that the quality of the lunch provided us not up to scratch, but let's hope that this moment's pondering does make me strive harder. As trade unionists, we do try and take a global view, particularly in Unison, but, do we really do enough? The absurd contradiction of last week, as we sat in a posh hotel,  in our posh frocks, eating our posh dinner while we debated child poverty, was, I hope not lost on any of us.

As for my own quantum of solace. Well I do seem to  have an underlying sadness in my life that I struggle to shake, and that is my lack of an immediate family. I have accepted that my life path is almost certainly one of ultimate loneliness. I will never have children, and I accept, I am unlikely to find a partner. People mean well with their kind words that I will find someone, but I am a realist. The chances of a 40 year plus trans woman will find the man of her dreams is about as likely as Stoke winning the Champions League, not impossible but highly unlikely. So what is my Quantum of Solace for this sadness. Well it is that whatever happens in my next 40 years or so, it will happen to me as a woman, and for that I am very lucky and should remain grateful.

Stoke 2 North London 0 
I said above about how unlikely it was that Stoke would ever win the Champions League, but these odds have improved just an iota this week. The mighty potters have soared up the league with 3 wins out of 4. We have now beaten both Arsenal and Spurs, so now London quakes at our name. Mind you, I'm not sure what we play bears as much relation to football, as it does basketball, after nearly all our goals have come from freakishly long throw ins.
The rest of my week seems to have revolved around looking for stuff. I love lists right now so here is a list of my lost in descending order of irritation

• Make Up - On a daily basis I lose a different item of makeup. This is done on a rota with eye makeup at the start of the week moving down to lip stuff by the end.
• Mobile Phones - There seems some strange law of physics that my 2 mobiles cannot exist in close proximity. They are almost like the identical poles of magnets in that they repel each other. Hence most of my phone calls are from one phone calling the other to find out where I left it.
• The matching top to my bottom - I don't mean my own halves which my top half is now 2 sizes below my bottom! I get up in the morning with a particular outfit in mind that would be perfect if I couple only find where I had chucked that precise coloured top, and I always end up with a imperfect compromise.
• The matching bottom to my top - See above.
• The matching shoes for my matching top and bottom - See above and above
• The one shoe - All my favourite pairs of shoes are now only singles.
• The last DVD in series Three of The Wire - I have now been looking for this on and off for the last 6 weeks. Ironically I have never lost a disc from Lost.
• My Passport - Although as this is now in a defunct old identity I'm not sure I want to find it.
• My Collie Cross Dog, Saffy - This was 5 years ago, but I still think every scruffy black and white dog I see is her.
• The Plot - Self evident really.
  

Weak Joke of the Week : What time does Andy Murray go to bed ?. . . . . . Tennish

Blubber Index : Down 4 llbs to 24 Stone 13.5 llbs

Capybara fact of the week : In captivity they may live to 12, but in the wild only typically have a life span around 4 years as they are eaten by Anacondas, Jaguars, Pumas, Ocelots, and Eagles

Up Next.....I'm off to Charing Cross Gender Clinic again tomorrow