I had a wonderful afternoon and evening on Sunday.
Ashley had invited me to a HOPE and local Pride Day lunch planning session. Proving there is no such thing as a free lunch we both volunteered or was it dragooned into helping out with this year's events.
After lunch we dropped by the mall for a quick bit of window shopping and wishing for an unlimited clothing budget. Then off to see an other girl friend in Hamilton and finally dinner. Back home by an incredibly yearly 9:00 PM.
True to form I stayed up way too late returning e-mails and redrafting a work agreement. My company was supposed to film today but it looks like the shoot will be scrubbed due to rain.
Oh and we met a Supermodel, Enza that is. Enza "Supermodel" Anderson is a trans activist, writer and banker. I remember seeing her on television when she ran for mayor of Toronto. Her motto was "A Super City Deserves a Super Model!" Now I find myself next to her having lunch. It was great to meet her in person, she is very down to earth and committed to making a difference.
Hugs,
April
OK I am going to totally geek out here and post the trailer for The Deathly Hallows Part 2:
It has been a while but the dark angel of depression enfolded me in her suffocating wings once again.
I have been working extremely hard at my new job to prove myself, to earn my salary in new business within the first couple of months, at that point I would tell my boss That I plan to transition. Thanks to some initially successful deals I was tantalizingly close to achieving my goal.
As of last week two signed sealed and delivered deals were now in jeopardy, I saved one but the larger one is now up in the air. After an exhausting week and many late nights working on proposals I did not have the energy to fight off the depression and welcomed the despair and sadness like an old friend. I retreated to bed still in my suit incapable of making dinner and seeking only the oblivion of dreamless sleep.
Once again I was failing my wife and family just adding to my feelings of worthlessness.
A true warrior whether male or female dusts themselves off and starts to plan a counter attack, sometimes I feel so damn tired. I am in a tough business (aren't we all these days) which requires a doggedness and level of entrepreneurship I fear I sometimes lack.
Perhaps I also secretly fear that I know that my bosses reaction will be negative and all this will be for naught.
Tomorrow is another day and right now I will take solace in the words of the Bishop of London who opened his sermon at the Royal wedding today with this quote:
“Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.”
I have been remiss in not blogging, from Good Friday on things at work were go go go. I was up writing proposals and articles until three am each evening. Wednesday my boss and I drove to Montreal for a meeting with the new network.
On the way down we had a chance to talk about business plans, cars, music and anything under the sun…well almost anything. Although tempted to tell him about myself (as I want to go full time soon) I am waiting until I have brought in a bit more new business.
Despite the rain and grey skies Montreal was beautiful, the meeting went well. We had a new 2011 Lincoln MKX to drive, I would have preferred a vintage Continental Mark IV or V. However, the cost of feeding a hungry 460 V8 at $1.41per litre would be painful.
Wind storms on the way back to Ontario, the grit spread by salt trucks during the recently departed winter produced mini sand storms and at one point a large metal road sign detached itself from a pole and just missed our windshield.
I returned home just in time to take my daughters to a school recital where the younger two were to perform. Back home for a quick dinner, stories and to bed.
The frantic pace of work, the business trip have all served to keep my mind occupied and the spectre of dysphoria at bay. A brief flare up when I spotted a group of red uniformed stewardesses checking into the hotel as I checked out. Virgin Atlantic maybe? Back home the dysphoria, sadness and doubt hit me hard and I could feel my frustration and anger build.
I am so worried what my boss's reaction will be, I am constantly over analysing any statement from him on sexuality or gender. The suspense is killing me.
Hugs,
April
PS. The photos are of my hotel room and the view from my window.
The new company I work for actually believes in holidays so I was banking on a rare Friday off. Because of family Easter events I thought I better get out with the girls Thursday night or nothing.
Thursday turned out to be a super busy work day leaving little time to get ready….as usual. The result being that by the time we got to Toronto (thanks for driving Natasha) I was already beat. Home by 3:00 AM, really I am too old for such nonsense. Honestly it was way more fun hanging out at Ashley's new place and enjoying girl talk and one or two of her excellent martinis.
Heading back to the car last night a guy in Cadillac tries to pick me up, but is was a Catera, I mean really….
This morning I am greeted by a phone call from the new network head demanding changes, new delivery dates etc…basically a red ball from heck with no way to get things done, since everyone from Toronto to Montreal is off for the long weekend. But my job to solve…..
Did I mention the proposal and article all due next week. Plus a trip to Montreal. Crazy but happy to have the job. Now about telling my boss, that is another kettle of fish.
Yeah I know I post a lot of Ramones tunes but here is a real hidden gem:
Late Sunday afternoon I was attempting to head out to do the week's grocery shopping with my youngest daughter.
I let her go outside ahead of me while I searched for my wallet, car keys and the list I just made. By the time I got outside she was deep in conversation with our neighbour. It seems his gas powered generator would not start. She had already volunteered my services to fix it, well I checked fuel delivery spark, choke but nothing seemed a miss. As he and I discussed possible problems and searched in vain for the manual she volunteered that "daddy" (that's me by the way) wanted to become a girl and was becoming a girl and that I had lots of girl outfits.
Great Caesar's ghost, I am sure I froze for a second, it was like watching a train wreck. Then she went to explain how at the father of a school friend had died as the result of being bitten by a snake, I believe this has less validity than her earlier statement. Laughing off her revelations I said I doubted anyone at school had suffered a snake related fatality. The neighbour seemed nonplussed remarking that it was understandable living in a house with three daughters.
Really I should not be surprised and expected this moment for some time. Perhaps she has already spilled the beans to her teacher, friends parents and the Sunday school class. On the whole I was more amused than horrified.
I did not correct her or swear her to secrecy, as there is nothing morally wrong with being transsexual/transgendered and I am not going to stigmatize it at home. I am hoping that going full time is not far off and then the point will be mute. In the meantime we will have to have a talk about when and to whom it is right to share such information.
Had to pick up all three from school today, driving home in the Electra we had Sam & Dave, Hold On I'm Coming playing, the two in the back providing an impromptu chorus of nonsense words….I could not help but be happy and grin like a fool…such a ray of sunshine on a cold grey day.
On Saturday I spent over half the day as myself, from early afternoon till three in the morning I was April.
We had a lovely week in Southern Ontario but Saturday it rained and rained. I had agreed to attend a forum on transgendered parenting in Toronto, where we would also meet a film maker working on a documentary on the same topic.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity I asked my friend Natasha to come along so we could hit the town that evening. I was in a terrible hurry as usual to get ready as I had to take two of my daughters to dance class that morning, leaving me with just over and hour to get ready. Running late and with only one coat of polish on my nails I left the house in jeans and boots, guy jacket hiding my top and no wig. Balancing a bag with a choice of heels and a skirt for the evening and an umbrella I managed to get in the Electra without looking like a drowned rat.
I was a little apprehensive about driving the 76 Buick in the rain and on the highway as the tires are of indeterminate age but no side wall cracks. Thirty five year old cars have a nasty habit of breaking down at the most inopportune times. Dressed en femme and in the pouring rain would surely tempt fate. On the plus side she had just taken me safely and at high speed to a meeting in Hamilton the day before. I had also replaced a leaking valve cover, changed the oil, greased the chassis, adjusted the timing and carb to factory specs, replaced cracked or dried out vacuum lines.
I made it to Natasha's place and we quickly got on the QEW heading to the big city. The weather made driving a white knuckle experience, I am sure we hydroplaned more than once, but we actually made good time to the heart of down town. Driving in Toronto can be a bit hairy and the congestion mirrors New York or London.
The forum was at the Sherbourne Centre, which has very limited parking, I had checked on line so I knew there was public parking a block north but it meant a walk in the driving rain and wind. Of course by the time we had parked the Electra, a space had opened up.
The forum was very diverse, M2F, F2M and lots of gender variants. Afterwards the rain had slackened but the temperature had dropped, braving the chill we walked over to a favourite Thai restaurant for either an early dinner or late lunch. Refreshed we retrieved the Buick before the meter ran out and drove over to the Gay Village, Natasha spotted some great on street parking but there was no way I was going to try an parallel park 19 plus feet of Flint, Michigan's finest.
We ended up parking her (the Buick not Natasha) at a nearby and heated underground lot that proved most useful for changing into evening wear, in my case exchanging the jeans and boots for a black skirt and low heels.
Not much night clubbing we ended having a much more enjoyable time at a local pub and later the coffee shop. Met some very interesting people, from an Algerian belly dancer top a Laotian oil man and his Filipino girlfriend.
Natasha lost her coat at a club but amazingly against the odds found it again at the last possible minute before we left far too late in the evening to head back to our respective suburbias.
Impromptu photo shoot with the Buick at 2:00 AM. I love this shot, I think it reflects how I felt that evening, confident and feminine. I want to be her all the time.
PS. The Electra ran great, (thanks to my recent tune up) consumed vast quantities of fossil fuels and garnered us many thumbs up on the way home from guys in their BMWs.
Amongst my many automotive obsessions I am also fascinated by the American Civil War. "J" and I toured the battlefields years ago in my 59 Cadillac. To steal a phrase from the excellent book Confederates in the Attic by Tony Horwitz our epic journey was a real civilwargasm.
I have been a civil war geek since my school days in the UK, my heart belongs to the romanticism of the South but my head knows that the Union had to prevail over the moral horror of slavery.
Insert witty segue here:
I managed to mire myself in the transgender vs. transsexual debate once again reading the posts and the comments both reasoned and vulgar. I even contributed to one blog.
I really need to keep clear of this civil war as it leaves me so depressed and full of self doubt. However, I have made some progress and can put that negativity I feel behind me. I do not mean any criticism of those who want to debate these issues but rather the mean spiritedness often on display.
Just a thought but do we see the same animosity between FtM pre and post op, early or late transitioners?
If you don't mind dear constant reader I would like to quote myself,
As for me personally I would have liked to transition earlier but I lacked the knowledge or even the frame of reference to know that such a thing was even possible. Not a day went by my entire life that I did not fervently wish I had been born female. Yes I fought those feelings and did my best to live the life that was expected of me.
I will transition, every mile on this road and been a battle, in the end I will have earned my womanhood.
Finally, I think it is very important to consider each persons social and economic situation as to when they choose to transition. I believe fate and to where and to whom we are born play a huge role in the ability to transition.
Who are we to judge?
Here is a beautiful take on my favourite hymn, though she does leave out the most powerful line;
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me: As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
