I have always found the Christmas season at bit melancholy, the celebrations tinged with sadness for those who are no longer with us and the fleeting nature of the peace and fellowship even the "grinchiest" of us feel.
I always cry when watching A Christmas Carol and It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas eve.
This Christmas will be the last for us as an intact family and next year will be even tougher. But Christmas is also about hope for a new start, this year my first as April. So as we countdown the days to Christmas as I know my children are doing I plan to post a new Christmas tune each day.
First up to bat is my guy Billy Fury, revered in the UK but unfortunately not so well known in North America. Here is his only Christmas offering:
I seem to have slipped into a bad habit of falling asleep after I have put the children to bed then waking up still dressed, makeup on and contacts in at midnight. Then I will return to the computer and work or e-mail or just futz around for an hour or two.
This means my sleep patterns are all messed up and I wake up tired. A side effect are some rather weird dreams most of which disappear like ill remembered phantoms once I have had that first cup of coffee.
Some are trans related, reflecting concerns about being read or last night dreaming I was stealth then outed at work.
Or in other cases the convoluted fantasies of my own pop culture obsessions. I dreamed I was a Hollywood producer trying to explain why I green lighted an Elvis movie (GI Blues) directed by Ed Wood featuring the cast of Le Carrousel in Paris with music written by Hasil Adkins and Delores Fuller.
For those of you with a more normal taste in movies and music I will save you the trouble and will provide links to explain why those elements would have made it the best movie ever!
Le Carrousel: April Ashley top middle and a rare shot of Coccinelle with black hair, Amanda Lear with short dark hair to the right of Kiki Moustic.
Elvis needs no introduction of course, except to say that he must be of extraterrestrial origin as no one from this planet could be that cool.
Ed Wood was the director of some of the worst or best grade Z movies ever made (think Plan 9 from Outer Space). He was also a confirmed cross dresser who made the film Glen or Glenda to explain his obsession and to capitalize on the story of trans woman Christine Jorgensen.
Ed Wood: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ed_Wood
Also check out the bio pick starring Johnny Depp, highly recommended.
Le Carrousel inParis was a very popular club that featured the top acts in female impersonation, many of the girls going on to have SRS with pioneering surgeon Dr. Georges Burou. Their number included Coccinelle, April Ashley, Amanda Llear (though she denies it), Bambi and many more.
Paris seemed so romantic in the fifties, I wish I could have seen it then. I did visit as a child and retuned a few years ago for work.
(above; Amanda Lear, Coccinelle and below Bambi)
Hasil Adkins was a West Virgina mountain man and rockabilly legend who specialized in the most primitive rockabilly ever stamped onto vinyl. A lack of commercial success never deterred him and was eventually discovered in the eighties by a wider audience. His demented She Said was even covered by the Cramps.
http://hasiladkins.com/biography.php
Dolores Fuller was Ed Woods girlfriend and co star in Glen or Glenda and Jail Bait, inexplicably going on to write songs for some of Elvis movies in the sixties, including Do the Clam and Steppin out of Line…the first even covered by the Cramps.
Really truth is stranger than fiction. Another Elvis connection apparently he did meet April Ashley while on leave in Paris, at least according to her, a possibility but a picture would be nice.
So I hope I have contributed to your cultural corruption and no I have not been hitting the eggnog to hard before bed.
Sorry no earth shattering insights into being transsexual just a post about the boring stuff I did today.
Had a set of "car show" tires that came with my Corvette but they were too dried out and cracked to be safe for use. I finally got my act together and took them to the dump…after getting all the collected rain water out of them. Since it has been below freezing most of it came out in solid form. Did you know you can fit four full size tires in the trunk of a 76 Buick Electra and not even have to take out the spare?
Normally I would not get dressed up to dispose of junk but I also had to drop by my old employer (the job I left voluntarily because I knew they would not accept me transitioning) to collect a formal record of employment. I had them leave it with reception as they don't know about me "yet". Not that I care that much now.
Although they had not seen my Electra I was worried they would recognize it as just the type of car "he" used to drive. They would remember the Cadillac and the Lincoln so I left them at home. I forgot my sunglasses so I couldn't play international woman of mystery. "J" at reception was as completely unflappable as I remember her. A little disappointed she recognized me but did say I had nice legs.
I didn't stop by to say hello to anyone else as it is not that much of a friendly place and by no means did I want to run into my old boss.
Made it home by three no thanks to traffic to pick up the children after school and make dinner. So ends my exciting day, really I just wanted to share this picture with you, despite the shadow across my face I really like it.
I heard from World of Wheels magazine, they commissioned a story on rust proofing, yes money.
So what colour did I choose…bright red!
Well Christmas is fast approaching and despite being out of work I feel a little bit of the Christmas spirit trying to displace my inner Scrooge. Here is The Creepshow's version of The Ramones, Merry Christmas Baby, I Don't Want to Fight Tonight, great rocking version with a supercharged Buddy Holly feel.
I had a post complete with photo, graphics and a song already to go but I decided not to use just yet. I wrote it feeling very angry with the world but I feel a little better now. I will save it when I am totally pissed off again, you likely won't have to wait that long.
Sorry about the photo I know it is out of focus...I was in a rush.
Winter is almost upon us, in this part of Southern Ontario we have been spared the indignity of any meaningful snow fall. Instead we have had a few blustery days and light overnight dusting that disappear with the coming dawn. Each little appearance of snow is like a blackmailers letter cut up from random words in the newspaper, an ominous threat of trouble to come.
I am behind in preparing my fleet of cars (collector or hoarder…I will leave it for the reality shows to decide) for winter duty and for others storage. The Corvette finally ran for shelter in my mother's garage (thanks mom!!!), the Electra is booked in for rust proofing next week and the storage. The Lincoln has a somewhat quieter exhaust, still needs more work, new alternator and may yet require a tune up in the form of plugs, wires, cap and rotor. Nevertheless she is moving on her own now.
So as you can tell I have been spending more time on the cars than I have in quite a few months, including visiting parts stores, re builders and running into "fellow" enthusiasts. Despite trying hard to avoid it working on vintage cars means getting dirty. I wear girl jeans, t shirt, guys work shirt winter jacket etc. As I explained earlier on in this blog, the time spent on cars was the only period where I was not consumed by thoughts of gender dysphoria. Ironic now that when I have spent some quality time with my Detroit born children I fell too male. I actually asked "J" today if I looked any different..less female… such was my paranoia.
Perhaps it was just the clothes…haha
Took the Lincoln for a quick spin and pulled into a parking lot to check the idle speed, I was approached by a guy who wanted to know all about the car. Turns out he was a big Ford fan. I spoke freely and didn't hide my knowledge of cars, did he read me, didn't seem to be any indication but then again Canadians are known to be awfully polite. Same thing happened two weeks ago with the Buick, that time I was positive I passed but they guy didn't clearly know what to make of a woman so into cars.
Slow on the job front, more resumes to get out.
I informed the car magazine that I write for as a freelancer about my name and gender change. They were very nice and had no problem with a new byline. The last two articles I wrote were published under my old name, next months will be the first as April. If you are in Canada check out your news stand for World of Wheels, I am sure you can guess which are my stories.
Off to do something feminine, like paint my nails metal flake pink, now that would make a cool colour for a 72 Mark IV.
Here is Joey Ramone with a great tune I have been blasting all week, sure to put a smile on your face. And the equally infections Dahlmanns tribute.
The neighbourhood Christmas party was Friday and I wore a new tight fitting sparkly red sweater with blue jeans. I liked the sweater but perhaps it makes my shoulders look too big. Anyway everyone seemed very nice and I was ensconced with the girls for the evening. A certain point the men left to watch the a hockey game in the den. I had little contact with the guys (likely make them uncomfortable) but I was addressed by my new name and I felt no negative vibes.
I almost didn't go as I had gotten very upset earlier over issues around separation and came close to ruining my make up by crying.
The trip to see old friends east of the city went well too. Once I pulled into their driveway all my nervousness kicked in and I reluctantly followed a minute or two behind the rest of the family family. Conservatively dressed, jeans black t shirt and a leopard print cardigan. I don't think I looked my best as I had gotten so little sleep the night before.
I was initially rather standoffish as there was a misunderstanding regarding a comment about my appearance. Once that was cleared up and "P" and I went out to look at his new restoration (Austin Westminster) it seemed like old times.
I really appreciated their effort to remember to call me April and to use the right pronouns.
The children played and we had a great dinner and as usual we parted wishing we lived closer to each other. I felt very comfortable with my old (no I am not calling them old…in joke) friends and I pray we can all still be friends after the separation.
Some late rockabilly as it morphs into surf, the Paragons with their instrumental Scramble:
Mid season finale of The Walking Dead, the survivors finally find Sophia the little girl from their group who panicked and runs off. Despite a coordinated search for her, she was virtually right under there noses all along. In a powerful last few minutes of the episode the producers manage to engender sympathy for the "walkers" lost humanity and tragedy at the fate of a little girl.
I know its just a TV show but when an undead Sophia emerged from the barn I burst into tears and cried and cried. The pain of the mother all too real.
A bit of an over reaction on my part but it has been a stressful week or two. The uncertainty of my employment status, the frustration of finding enough time to do everything. But mostly the hurt feelings and grieving over "J" and I's imminent separation proved too much.
I never feel so bad as when "J" and I argue. I did not head down this road blind, I knew where it would lead. Do I wish I never started. Yes and No.
If you are wondering how the Christmas party and visit with old friends went, good but more about that tomorrow.
Hugs,
April
Here are British psychobilly band Demented are Go with my fav Wanda Jackson tune:
What am I up to, mostly looking for work, being a "mom" and writing when I have a minute. The terrible fall/early winter cold has almost dissipated and with its retrial hopefully a return of my old energy.
My cooking skills have improved dramatically as I am usually responsible for dinner, the search is always on for quick and tasty recipes.
Transition wise my phone voice must have improved as I had two Ma'ams from different telemarketers. Gas station attendants are also much more solicitous.
Had my first phone interview as April as well!
Two rather nerve racking events coming up, the neighbourhood Christmas party, so far everyone has been very nice but I do not speak with everyone on our street on a regular basis. I am sure the entire neighbourhood has seen me out at some point whether it is going to pick up the children from school, raking leaves or working on a car. But for many it will be the first time the see me up close.
There is also a trip planned to see some old friends from university. They were initially very upset to learn of my transition and the eventual break up. I would not be too nervous meeting them one or one or even as a couple but a gathering of each family including children makes it a much more uncertain proposition.
Culturally (or what I classify as culture…cars and rockabilly) interests me this moment is Lincoln Mark V's the Mark V superseded the Mark IV of course, I have a 72 and 76 model (who knows I may even get top keep them after the separation as they are still not much of a valuable collector car).
The 77-79 Mark V is mechanically the same as the 72-76 Mark IV but had a new angular body with the same neo-classic design cues. I have admired them for some time and would love to have a vinyl roof delete model in silver, or a triple white loaded model, top of the list is the fifty or so coach built convertibles. Be still my beating heart. Oh yeah make sure they all have the 460 V8.
Other topics of fascination, Elvis' girlfriends after Priscilla, Linda Thompson and Ginger Alden. Linda was later married Bruce Jenner and music mogul David foster and also the subject of a brief reality show.
The last Lincoln Elvis bought (yes he had Mark IVs too) was a white 77 for Ginger. Ford was sold out and a special call had to be made to Detroit to locate a car immediately. After all that trouble the big Continental was too much for Ginger who prior to that only had a three speed bike. Elvis bought her Cadillac's "international sized" Seville.
While we are talking about Elvis, check out his last "travelogue" movie Live a Little Love a Little, (I have featured it here before) the office scenes where he juggles two jobs, as an advertising photographer/executive and a pin up photographer have a definite Mad Men feel about them. To match his new success he gets a cool apartment, new suits and a 68 Imperial convertible to drive around in…. very cool!
Musically I am still listening to Teenage Head's complete discography. Wish I had seen them live when I had a chance. But I will leave you with an alt take of Elvis' T.R.O.U.B.L.E. from 1975:
It snowed the other day, a little wet blowing snow but ominous signs of what is to come. I am not a winter person and before anyone in even colder parts of this great Dominion call me a wimp I have lived In Thunder Bay and Sudbury too and have experienced its Siberian like temperatures.
Makes me want to run to Florida or the South of France! I await my invite in the mail dear constant readers?
But the little snow we had reminds me of how close Christmas is and how far behind I feel. Not enough resumes out, not enough work on my voice and name change paper work. I seem to be so busy just being a "mom" dropping off or picking up, getting dinner ready. When the school day ends at just after three until all are in bed I cannot begin work again till well past nine pm….by which time I am usually beat.
No I don't believe this is divine retribution for my past sexist ways I was always very aware of how hard stay at home parents worked.
Needless to say I am rather behind on car work as well. The Seville is running and should be ready for its mandatory safety check. I finally got the exhaust manifold off the Lincoln Mark IV…wow what a job requiring all sorts of ingenuity and tricks not detailed in the official Ford manual (six volumes). As usual trying to do most of the work myself to avoid further enriching local mechanics. Grease, rust particles and foundation do not go well together.
I have also churned out a new automotive article for a domestic buff magazine entitled The Top 10 Cars to survive the Zombie Apocalypse….I know I know it just writes itself. Yes a paying gig too! The image above was photo shopped for article thanks to "J". "Mom" and daughter zombie fighting team.
How is being full time going, great! I do feel so much happier as myself sometimes I think I need a good pinch to wake myself up. Being out and about amongst my fellow "man" is no longer such a concern almost second nature. Last week was also the first time I tried on clothes using the stores woman's changing room.
I continue to feel I am passing most of the time. The cashier at the store offered me a candy again and called me sweetie, the young guy at the pizza place called me Ma'am, the staff at the Napa auto parts store both male and female never seemed to notice anything.
But how much is being polite? The girl who helped me choose a new phone never batted an eye when I handed her my still male drivers licence.
OK one funny story, walking children to school, the youngest runs ahead to the crossing guard, he says wait for your mom. My little darling proceeds to tell him that I am her daddy and that I just look like a girl….then she bids him a cheery good morning.
Had a chat with my friend Krissy today on the phone it felt just like two woman having a conversation and I guess it was.
Hugs,
April
Here is the first single by local punk band Teenage Head. I have also been listening to their 1996 album Head Disorder, great!!! go and find it or their Trouble in the Jungle from 86 but the best has to be Frantic City 1980. The most rockabilly of all punk bands.
A strange week that seems to have slipped by far too fast. So much to do and even when not working full time I seem to have so little of it. Being a "mom" and home maker is also proving to take its toll on my working hours.
Emotionally up and down but no serious depression and I damn well hope it does not return.
Met with two girl friends this week one for lunch the other for coffee. Each is at different stages of their transition just behind me….wow suddenly I am the experienced one, what the heck happened.
Transition is a gift (a life saving one) but it is not cheap. No I am not talking about the not insubstantial cost of surgery…SRS…FFS…implants but the emotional, the relationships, jobs etc.
It is finally hitting me that "his" life is over and that the most important relationship is forever changed and finite. I knew it all along in my head but not my heart, I have the taste of ashes in my mouth.
It would make sense to play Bruce's the Price You Pay but that so so depressing I want to open a vein. No offence to his fans I am one too. Here is another tune with a slightly more upbeat sound if not message.
PS. Photo is me singing along....thank God this is not a VLOG.
Well while we are on a Bruce kick:
Tougher than the rest…the road is dark…
Now this is more my speed:
Open all night featuring a guy driving a first generation Cadillac Seville:
Well the unthinkable happened, no not split ends or a run in my last good pair of nylons, I was laid off Tuesday afternoon. There is an unfair shame in loosing your job, a feeling of worthlessness. I hate to even tell you dear constant reader….I want you to think me a successful woman but a blog like any diary should be about honesty.
I really believe I am psychic when it comes to job loss, over ten years ago I was laid off at the bank (found two jobs in a month or so….clearly a different time) and the day before I had a very ominous feeling about work. Same this time so I was not totally surprised and took it well without breaking down in tears…that came later.
Nothing to do with being transsexual, I am confident it was purely a business decision. The same one I would make if I had to.
Understanding is one thing, emotions are another. After I sat stunned in the parking lot for a good half an hour. I could hardly summon the energy to drive, I unsteadily piloted the Electra to a park by the lake where I could sit in silence and contemplate the speed hypothermia can kill. I Googled it later and it is quite an unpleasant way to die.
A beautiful pink and blue late afternoon sky, Canada geese flying south for the winter. The on coming tsunami of depression could be felt in every cell of my body but the cipralex I am on seemed to do a good job and prevented a full collapse.
I knew this job was a risk and I do not regret leaving my old one, it was a horrible environment that was killing me. This job was my ticket out and allowed me to transition. For that i am grateful.
In the very near past I was my job, it defined me, to loose that identity would have been traumatic. In the process of really becoming myself I have moved beyond what I do defining me and am surprised to find I am OK.
Ashley called we talked, would I go back, no the thought never crossed my mind. I AM April, to go back would be a lie. My experience full time has been brief but my confidence has grown immeasurably. It will be scary looking for a job as a woman but I will. It will be nice to start a new job (hopefully) as April with a lot less baggage.
"J" called we talked she gave me a wonderful pep talk, I waited a while longer said goodbye to Lake Ontario then drove home in silence.
The other day determined to make a nice dinner for the family I made a lovely Shepard's pie with fresh mushrooms, salad, french bread etc. Turns out I used some expired chicken broth. I had to throw it all away. I was so upset and had a bit of a breakdown all out of proportion to a ruined dinner. Clearly I was more upset about the job than I told myself.
So the blog continues to morph, the transition story continues, now I can also document the trials and tribulations of the job search process for a trans woman in the 21st century…..great googly moogily….stay tuned.
Times like these call for the blues, here is Johnny Lee Hooker with Boom Boom from my favourite movie of all time:
I had intended to post a buoyant post about Halloween but my mood has taken a bit of a downturn lately. I would not say that the euphoria of going full time has worn off it is just that the price we pay has become clearer.
I will leave those thought for later in the week and deal with the celebration of All Hallows Eve first.
For the first time since I was nine or ten I wore a costume. Despite Halloween being the perfectly acceptable and safe time to indulge in one's feminine side I never did. In all my closeted years I was never invited to or wished to attend a costume party. Nor would I have had the courage, as Jenny pointed out on her blog It would have been just too close to home and I would have been afraid someone could tell I was enjoying it a bit too much.
So this year I spent too much on a costume, a Fallen Angel, short black bodice dress with black wings and a black halo. Type casting perhaps?
My friend Genni who lives close by invited me to her Legion (Legion as in veterans and their relations, not the fallen angel sort of legion) Hall for a Halloween costume party dinner and dance. A number of Genni's friends at the Legion already knew about her. We were quite the pair, both in four inch heels (no I don't wear these normally….mostly flats now) and her in a beautiful Disney style Snow White costume complete with royal blue cape.
Funny I would have declined if I was not living full time. Needless to say we were one of the main topics of conversation and apparently the next day too. We were sitting with a group of women and I was applauding myself for seemingly passing when the lady beside me said I don't know how you guys do it in those heels. Perhaps she meant guys in the general sense. She seemed rather confused by me, especially when I told her I had children…I could almost see her brain working …..is that humanly possible?
Later in the evening an older lady whispered in Genni's ear, the table across the room was debating my genetic origins and she had been sent to find out the truth. Genni replied that I was a girl, she turned to her friends and said, "told you so". Ah victory is mine!
The dinner was very nice and I had a great time, everyone was friendly despite the curiosity.
Later we met up with our friend Dan at the Carrigan Arms, they had a live band all dressed as characters from the Wizard of Oz. A rather scary looking biker asked me to dance. He was not dressed as a biker he really was one. I was afraid he would not take kindly to any disappointment at finding I was not entirely kosher so to speak. So I asked him what he rode, a Harley of course, what model I asked, a full dresser, really I replied belt or chain drive? I think he got the hint. Was I chickening out, perhaps I should have danced with him.
Halloween night I was just April and tested my patience escort five girls around the neighbourhood trick or treating. Hope you like our pumpkins, the product of a few hours of carving Sunday afternoon. The vomiting one was my oldest daughter's idea.
Hugs,
April
The party is over boys so close those coffin lids....
I rarely feel regret at not transitioning earlier in my life. Of course I wished I had been born the right sex from day one, it would have prevented much pain and confusion for myself and others.
I cannot regret the life I lived, I did the best I could, I am lucky to have beautiful children that I would not have otherwise and to have experienced a close, loving and supportive relationship.
That relationship is evolving and an eventual separation will occur, nevertheless it has not ended in acrimony and hatred like so many "normal" marriages.
The past is the past and it is only the future I have the ability to change. Generally words I can live by but occasionally there is a longing for what I missed by living a good deal of my life as a male.
I recently received a copy of my old schools annual newsletter (about the size of a small paperback novel). I attended a boarding school in the UK with roots going back to the sixteenth century. When asked I usually described it as a cross between Tom Brown's School Days and Lord of the Flies. A very Victorian institution, it had a great deal of influence on me mostly for the good. And no you wisenheimers it is not the cause of my current predicament. It was there however that I began to realize the depths of my dysphoria.
As a child I hated it and was terribly homesick by my final year in the senior school I had come to accept it as my home.
The current issue featured article detailed the school's transition to being co-educational. Girls were only admitted beginning in the early seventies. By the time I arrived they were a distinct but entrenched minority. Reading about these pioneers and even recognizing a name or two was an odd sensation. Both a feeling of nostalgia and loss, reminding me that I am for now still something of an outsider looking in at the world of women.
Week Three
Life goes on as normal as possible, there are days I feel I pass better than others. I haven't had any unpleasant experiences.
One event of note was taking the children to swimming practice, they insisted on using the ladies changing area and not the family one. I was not going in the pool myself just seeing that they changed and made it to their classes on time. I have always used the female washroom when out but this was a more public experience and one where my presence if read could be construed as objectionable by some.
No one seemed to notice and I watched on deck until "J" relived me so I could get dinner going.
On a more light hearted note I was flirted with by the older gentleman cashier at the grocery store. He looked a bit like Santa Claus and offered me a candy. I have no intention of running off with him to the North Pole but it was rather validating and sweet.
I trust everyone out there in TV land will be glued to AMC this weekend to check out episode 2 of the second season of The Walking Dead. I caught a repeat of episode one on Sunday, of course watched alone in the dark. Very intense, you have been warned.
How many of you find your mind wandering to survival strategies for the upcoming zombie apocalypse….just me, jeez I knew I was weird.
Feeling very positive about transition. Not so much about work. I have proactive job, there is rarely a beginning, middle and end to anything I do. It has been hard to muster a lot of enthusiasm as the marketplace has been so unresponsive. Feeling a little too much like a zombie my self behind this desk. Hopefully I can regain my humanity over the weekend and fight back with new resolve Monday.
A few snapshots from going full time:
Took children and their friends to Mc Donalds for a treat, in the midst of trying to place the order my middle child says loudly Daddy I want….the three women behind the counter according my eldest daughter all exchanged puzzled looks. I continued like nothing happened. Oh well if they looked unsure that was likely a good sign that I passed the initial inspection.
9:30 am appraiser dropped by to see one of my cars for insurance purposes. I answer the door, is (insert male name here) at home? Playing it by ear I say no. Get the keys and answer a few questions, trying to speak about myself in the third person. Assume I passed, not sure.
The software I got to help with my voice turns out to be different from the one shown me at the voice clinic. Does not seem to display pitch while I am speaking. Annoying, anyone have any suggestions?
The dysphoria I used to feel when visiting a mall, seeing other women etc has almost dissipated. Sure I still want surgery, implants, FFS but much more at peace with myself. Liking more what I see in the mirror, finally reflecting who I really am inside.
Relearning how to speak, I am seeing a doctor in Toronto. It is up to me to make the effort to practice and change my voice. To avoid as little disruption to family and work I have scheduled my appointments as early as possible, 8:30 AM.
Monday morning was my first appointment, I had gone a few weeks earlier for testing and evaluation.
To make it on time means getting up at five am or earlier to beat the traffic and find a place to park. If Toronto is famous for anything it should be traffic congestion. I used to commute everyday by car so I know it has gotten worse and worse over the years.
Contemplating the large fuel bill for my 455 powered Buick and another twenty bucks for parking, "J"said why not take the train. Well yes I guess I could! I had avoided the train in the past because I didn't feel comfortable i.e. able to pass riding cheek by jowl with the rest of the city's bleary eyed work force.
I am full time now so just bite the bullet and do what not so long ago I would have considered unimaginable. Once again I erred on the conservative side dressing in jeans, flats black top and sweater. The trip was uneventful and no one gave me any funny looks despite sitting very close together in the rather cramped seats. I was surprised by the number of women waiting on the platform in skirts and heels, one very memorable Russian woman in leopard skin pumps.
Heels would have been nice but I had planned to walk from Union Station to the appointment and that might have been just a bit too far and too uncomfortable. Good thing too as I got a call to come to the studio as I was waiting for the train home enjoying a coffee and admiring the imposing imperial architecture of Union station.
Ditched the coffee and caught the subway north of the 401 to pick up an episode on hard drive to drop off at the other studio which is on the way to Niagara Falls. Another subway and train ride home. The subway was equally uneventful though I think the woman across from me may have suspected something. The guy besides me reading his e book certainly didn't.
By the time I got back to Union then the train home it was 1:30. Retrieved the Buick from the GO Train parking lot and headed west. Pulling off the highway I was followed closely by a police SUV almost all the way into the city, I turned right, he turned right, I turned left, he turned left…I started to get worried. I really thought he was going to pull me over (of course I had been exceeding the speed limit on the highway) eventually we parted company. I really think he was running my plate, strange woman in vintage car, sounds like trouble with a capital T.
At the studio I dropped off the hard drive and stuck around to say hello to my contact there, him, Hi what's new?. Me oh nothing much…this was the first time he had seen April and was nonchalant to the point of being comatose, rather funny really.
Almost finished two articles for a Canadian automotive magazine, one on the development of the 19681/2-1971 Lincoln Mark III and another on the history of the revived Stutz company in the seventies. My first commercial writing under the name of April!
Week two…wanted to post this earlier but all heck broke loose at work today.
Last week Ontario had a provincial election (my guy lost), of course ID is required to vote. The woman officiating at the polling station looked up from my drivers licence as said to her partner, no that is not right, I need yo see YOUR ID. I offered that I had a second piece of official identification if required, no I need YOUR ID, you gave me the wrong one. Finally I told her that yes that is me. Realization dawned slowly across her face and completely flustered she thrust me my ballot. Glancing back on my way out the door I caught her staring.
The neighbours on the street have been very nice, using the right name and even inviting me over for coffee. Whether I will be ever be accepted as one of the girls is uncertain. I recognize that it takes a while to accept fully such a profound change. I walk my youngest to school almost everyday and have not had a problem from children or teachers, though I do hear through the grapevine that some of the dads were uncomfortable.
Yesterday I had my first client meeting as April. Once again an epic drive into Toronto battling rain and traffic. Some very impatient and reckless drivers, amazed at some of the aggression on display (did that used to be me?). The Electra carried me safely through the maelstrom and consumed the entire $45 dollars of gas I put in the tank the day before.
It would be the first time my boss had met April in person so I dressed conservatively, dark blue dress pant like jeans, flats, a black and tan lace top and a light tan sweater, minimal jewellery. No skirt and heels today though it would have been appropriate for the meeting. As far as I can recall of the other two women in attendance, one wore a skirt and moderate heels the other pants. Boss was complimentary and only slightly freaked out ;)
I had been prepared to introduce myself and explain who I was in order that my situation not be a distraction in meeting (I had not met or corresponded with any of the participants prior). Turned out not to be necessary as my boss took the lead in the discussion. Overall a short meeting that saw us kicked up the food chain to the national management, so a return trip is hopefully in the cards.
The assistant who I had scheduled the meeting with didn't seem to guess who I was and asked where the "he" she had been dealing with by e-mail last couple of months was.
Another first would be working outside on the cars and gardening (mowing and raking…all the gardening I care to do) in full view of neighbours some of who even stopped by to talk. I felt rather self conscious at first as the automotive part is stereotypically seen as a male pursuit and in jeans, t-shirt and no makeup I didn't feel my most alluring. Installed a new Vintage stereo in my 76 Lincoln Mark IV.
My fear of going out has mostly evaporated as the demands of work and family mean I cannot hide away at home.
Almost one week full time, so do I have any great revelations. Did the heavens part and was the secret of femininity bestowed upon me. Nothing so dramatic, I think the week would be best summed up in a free association list of experiences:
- entering a shoe store with "J" to buy some much need flats, "how may I help you ladies today" from the manager (who I had bought shoes from in male mode in the not too distant past) YEAH!
- dropped off TV show on a hard drive at studio, receptionist didn't recognize me. I chickened out and didn't speak to editor and studio head.
- knowing look from lady on the street (was I read), driver in passing car took a photo?…of the tranny?
- interacted with teenage girl on the till at another shoe store and with a guy at the hardware store. Neither seemed to read me, though I did have my sunglasses on.
-stopped by my father's church (yep he is a Rev.) for a chat, first time he had seen April "live". Told I am too tall and my hair needs to be longer….I am working on changing the later. Sorry not meaning to be harsh he was very nice.
- girls calling me DADDY repeatedly and loudly in Halloween store , "J" came up with the moniker Dee Dee ton use by the girls when we are out.
- mom called me April
- won't be going to Thanksgiving dinner at brother in laws with rest of 'J's" family.
- first conference call as April. My boss never miss gendered me or used the wrong name.
- official work e-mail changed to April
- first client proposal sent out under my name.
- answered phone at least twice using male name…Doh!
- while pulled over to talk on the phone, guy asks me about the Buick Electra
-witness to a drunk driving incident, identified my self as April, had to provide a written statement. female officer was taller than me…by quite a bit.
- walked children to school every day this week
- getting used to spending a lot more time (not unexpectedly of course) to get ready in the morning.
- do I feel any different, not really just feel like myself…that's good right?
Hugs,
April
Here is the Grace Change with the greatest version ever of I Want you To Be My Baby, try and not dance to this!
Up an hour earlier than I would in former guy mode to do my hair, makeup, appropriate outfit, make lunches for the children and to generally prepare for a 10:00 AM meeting.
I had been dealing with the potential client over the phone as "him" during the last few weeks so I felt it only fair to inform them that I would be presenting as female. I mentioned in my e-mail that if they were uncomfortable the meeting could be conducted over the phone or I could arrange someone else from our company to meet with them.
Twenty minutes before the meeting I received a call that the boss of my contact there was not comfortable meeting me. I felt rather crushed but kept a professional tone and set up a meeting between them and my boss. I am upset, one for being rejected out of hand and secondly that my status may jeopardize the deal or at least take it out of my hands. I was looking forward to reporting back some success today.
On the other hand I did receive a very nice call from a friend and colleague today.
I am well into day three of my RLE, full time, 24/7, presenting as my chosen gender, whatever you wish to call it.
I had Friday off to travel to Niagara Falls with "J" to both get our hair done. I wanted to take some photos of what I wanted but gave up as I could not find what I was looking for on line the night before. "J" drove through a torrential rain storm to get us to the DV8 Salon (great name by the way) on time. I toned things down to leave the house, dark blue jeans, black t shirt, low heels, a gold chain necklace "J" had given me.
I was so nervous I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, the staff were great making us both feel very welcome. It was such a positive place with an amazing friendly energy, everyone seemed to be having a good time working there, it must be wonderful to come to such a lively place everyday.
It was a unique experience to be in such a feminine environment without feeling the interloper.
I was in the skilled hands of Ron Lee the owner, again I cannot say enough about his skill and the excellent service. I told him what I was looking for but basically offered myself up to his expertise. Instead of a darker colour I ended up blond with cute bangs that work well to completely disguise my unfortunate widows peak. I also had my make up done and listened diligently and asked lots of questions trying to absorb everything she was doing.
I was ecstatic with the cut and it did wonders for my confidence. "J's" hair also blond but a little darker looked amazing, especially since she has such beautiful long full hair. After the salon we went to lunch with Janis, Ron's mom and a friend of "J's" who helped set up the whole day. Janis regaled us with stories of her done everything, eventful life (now she could write a blog!)…thanks for lunch!
We were supposed to be home by six pm to relieve my mother who was watching the children, but due to a massive traffic jam we had to detour around St. Catharines but still made it home not too late.
Day two I had to take my youngest to her gymnastic class and wait with all the other parents. I took the Saturday paper with me so I could bury my nose in the news but no open seemed to pay me any undue attention. The 76 Electra likely attracted more attention.
Later that day I went by the local mall to say hello to a friend who works at the Bay then over to another mall to get my ears pierced….yes I waited this long. Walking around the mall was a little nerve wracking but no one seemed to stare or do a double take even the gaggles of teenage girls. I have gotta get some flats as the two inch heels make too much noise clicking across the polished floors. I am trying to blend in not announce my presence.
Saturday night Genni, Dan and I attended the Carrigan Arms dance, it was eighties night. I had a rather short pink dress that Dan had found for me, lots of fun dancing to the Ramones, Blondie and Billy Idol. Our usual after action coffee at Tim Horton's across the street.
Monday is going to be interesting. Dropping of children at school and a meeting with a new client at 10:00 AM….
