Bad Day at Black Rock

Long meeting this morning with lawyer as part of "J's" and my mediated settlement. Both of us were emotionally drained after the session, sorry no gory details to impart but we did do lunch afterwards. And neither poisoned the other….though I do admit to feeling a little woozy after my first Big Mac in many moons.

It was very emotional, it finally sinking in that we are separated, that the relationship and marriage is over. Of course it was done almost four years ago but this felt like Lee at Appomattox….it was over!

We took separate cars and I parked the T-Bird on the street so I could leave a little later to pick up children from school. As I sat in the car listening to the ticking of the big block 460 cool in they winter air I noticed my reality challenged neighbour step out of his house and take a photo of me in my car.

No I was not illegally parked or blocking his driveway. Then he stands in his living room window video taping me sitting my car while I checked my phone messages. I did my best to ignore him though I really did want to confront him and his stalker behaviour.

His behaviour is really worrying me, I think he is one more incident from me calling the cops. After a trying morning this really put the icing on the cake.

sure its a cool car but why all the video attention

oh yeah me!!!!!!

back to factory wheels for winter

yes that is an Abba 8 track cartridge!

Hugs,

April

PS. thank to all who read or responded to my lonely post, your support means a lot

The Night Birds of Paris

A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots. 
Marcus Garvey 

Transsexual history has remained largely unwritten, those who survived the early days since the late fifties naturally went stealth, they did not become activists, they did not march in the street. Transsexuals were at the forefront of gay liberation of the late sixties but they too have been ignored. All their history and contributions forgotten or co opted into a larger LGBt narrative.

Nothing wrong with going stealth, I hope to do the same, to some degree.

As transsexuals we are outsiders and often exiles from our families, society and culture. An understanding of our history can provide a foundation to be build a new identity. I am not advocating separatism from the larger culture but to take strength from those who faced even greater challenges than we can imagine. 

Being transsexual is a curse but we should still take pride in the early achievements of our "sisters" and our own journey.

I wrote about Christer Strömholm's beautiful photographic record of the transsexual prostitutes of the Pigalle back in May. Here is a link to my published review in Frock: 

http://frockmagazine.com/frock018/#/30/

Sorry if you were expecting the History Channel....but who knows, one day.

A friend and great artist called it gorgeous and fierce, I hope you think the same.

Hugs,

April

Lonely

Perhaps it is only the change of seasons but I have been gripped by an inexplicable melancholy that saps my will and drive. I think it is just another variation of the depression I have been battling.

At bed time my head swims with thoughts that I have to force myself to quiet in order that Morpheus may visit unopposed.  

There is also an abiding loneliness, the children keep us busy and add joy to life but as J and I have drifted further apart we have become uncomfortable roommates. Two cold war super powers that cannot exist in spite of the other. The guard towers and barbed wire fences that separate us mean that neither has the unconditional support and love of the prior relationship. 

I never realized how lonely it would be. In my youth I was quite used to being something of a lone wolf, a state many of us no doubt found ourselves in. 

Hopefully that is a temporary state for both of us and that the desire of almost all humans for companionship and love will be fulfilled again. It is how I lull myself to sleep each night.

I have fallen into the old trap of using my automobile obsession to as a crutch for my emotions. So far I am happy with both, especially the Jaguar but I cannot allow them to blind me to reality. Some turn to drugs or booze I collect cars. It could be worse I guess it could be fire trucks or locomotives.

I had an interesting conversation with a woman at the Canadian Tire (think PepBoys, Halfords) help desk. She leaned over conspiratorially and asked if like her I felt invisible to the male staff. 

Kind of I replied (how often in early transition had all of us wished to be invisible) but mostly I find that I know much more than they do… Men I said, followed by an especially good eye roll. 

Hugs,

April

I have no idea what she is singing about but it seems to sum up how I feel:

Tired

I have been so tired recently, hormones/anti-androgens, depression, change of season. I mean who the heck falls asleep after three red bulls.

The evening after putting children to bed was my second shift to get work done but recently I just want to fall asleep.

I hate freelancing, not my long term plan that's for sure. One never knows when an assignment will be postponed. Working so hard to sell ideas to editors. Tired of living in genteel poverty, tired of being lonely.

Would be off to Thailand if the 59 Caddy sold….no deal. 

The last two cars will be appraised this week to give to lawyer for negotiated settlement. 

Sorry for the rant just feeling blue.

A few ups over the last week, met Bobbi and her spouse in person for coffee.

Some young guys in a slammed Civic raced to catch up to the XJ-S (and me I assume LOL) to take photos while we were racing along the highway so if you are reading can I have a copy.

In the middle of a rainstorm  a guy in a modified Ford van cruises up to the Lincoln to give me the thumbs up.

Having just written that I think I am too emotionally invested in my cars…..

Walking Dead is back, the only show I watch on TV.

and some days I feel like this

Hugs,

April

Speed Holes

Back from deepest Uxbridge this morning with my trusty rat rod looking Lincoln Mark IV thanks to a ride up north in Genni's trusty Jeep.  After a jump start and removal of a few billion pine needles she was ready to rumble.

I had the hood louvered in a 1930s style by Oddball Kustoms. The louvers follow the hoods power bulge and get wider as they progress towards the windshield. the hood was too big to fit in any louver press so a new piece of metal was let into the hood. See it all here:

Why? Well the custom built 460 gets mighty hot in the summer and of course it looks super cool. I was also tired of people asking when I was going to paint my car. The Lincoln is a custom work in process (also I can't afford to paint her yet) and the louvers help establish the impression that she is an under construction hot rod with most on lookers.

On my first trip to pick up my eldest daughter from school a class mate of hers approached asking me all about my custom Lincoln and saying what a cool car it is. Mission accomplished.

The origin of speed holes:

The drive back was uneventful apart from the large amount of fuel consumed by the Agostino Racing built 460. It was nice to have a powerful stereo system again with a ipod connector. Next project, custom grill then leopard skin upholstery accents.

Speaking of rat rods, I just penned an article for World of Wheels on the phenomenon.

Hugs,

April

PS. Almost forgot crazy neighbour has a theory my old cars are the cause of three peoples cancer in the neighbourhood. How medieval, I must be a witch. Think I will install some bright green neon lights in the trunk:

OMG OMG OMG

The election!!! I am on pins and needles, I will not be able to help myself today and will be obsessively checking my favourite news sites for each excruciating update.

In the past I used my two obsessions (cars and US politics) to help keep my mind off thoughts of transitioning. Such behaviours are hard to shake especially as I have a genuine love of both.

I have been a "Americanophile" since well forever, at boarding school in England my Canadian accent (we have one?) marked me as an American and I was often called upon to defend US foreign policy decisions. Being well informed and a good debater sometimes even saved me from a beating.

To me America is always the shining city on the hill, the arsenal of democracy and the greatest force for good in a wicked world, even though its own citizens forget this fact sometimes.

I do know American history, it was my first degree. I have travelled in the USA extensively. And once long ago I even tried to join the American military. 

After the 2008 election I had bigger things on my mind and I let my interest in politics cool. 

So to my dear American cousins, GO VOTE, exercise the right so many have died for and continue to be an inspiration to the world.

Love,

April

PS. notice I didn't tell who to vote for

Neighbourhood Watch

I have lived a charmed life so far, all things considered. I am passing and I have the support of friends and family. I have my share of problems but I have not lost everything like some transsexual women.

Last night I spent an enjoyable three hours in wide ranging conversation with two friends, one male one trans at a local coffee shop. We talked about everything from the royal family to recipes and the upcoming US election.

So I do feel a little churlish complaining about a recent incident, however it shows how easily going about ones own business can put “us” in harms way. In light of this event I can see how girls can end up assaulted or even dead.

This morning up early to move the Jaguar, so J could get the Town & Country out. I parked on the street careful not to disturb the piles of leaves awaiting municipal collection. On returning ten minutes later to put the car back in the driveway, a neighbour came out with his morning coffee yelling at me for not parking close enough to the curb.

I explained I did not want to disturb the leaves carefully raked up into neat piles. I also explained that hot catalytic converters could ignite them.

He began pointedly misgendering me and using my old name. I approached and asked him to use my soon to be legal new name. This set him off on a homophobic diatribe, including a limp-wristed pantomime that would under any other circumstance been a humorously dated example of sad bigotry.

I calmly explained that I was not gay and did not appreciate such bigotry. No really I remained cool as a cucumber. He continued his invective laden rant until he was literally shaking with rage, the accusations included that I had brought down the value of the neighbourhood, that I enjoyed anal sex, that I was a bad parent, that everyone in the block hated me, that I checked the oil in my cars too much (no really folks, how can that annoy anyone....what does he do watch me constantly), that I was neither male or female.

I might add that I have been walking on egg shells with this individual doing nothing to cause any perceived annoyance, including refraining from tuning cars or working on them in the evening.

The man’s anger was scary, however I was not afraid as I still think I could have defended myself physically and I could see he knew it too. Soon his adult son dragged him back into his house.

I was very upset but sharing with you dear constant readers has dulled the flame of my anger. Unfortunately such people are out there, perhaps in a different place and under difference circumstances such a situation would have lead to violence.

Be careful out there.   

Hugs,

April

we haven't had some Elvis in a while so....