For my sins I am temporally (I hope) in a work environment that features near continuous Christmas music of the saccharine kind.
For the most part I can block it out but it does tend to leave me with a rather bah humbug take on the holiday season. Scrooge's line jumps readily to mind:
"every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart".
Occasionally a cool yule tune by the Beach Boys or Elvis slips past whatever guardian of mediocrity programs the muzak. Now if this version of the King's Santa Claus Is Back In Town (dig the line about Santa arriving in a big black Cadillac) by The Creepshow ever gets played I will gladly get up on the counter and do the watusi.
A day or two of mild weather, so I reverted to my fifties bad girl JD look, fitted leather jacket, leopard print T and not quite visible Betsey Johnson skull earrings and necklace. I think I looked good swinging my high heeled black boots out of the lowered Lincoln Mark IV. http://www.betseyjohnson.com
Yes it has occurred to me that I sometimes cling to the rockabilly look as a crutch, leather armor that makes me feel like a tough girl when really I am feeling terribly vulnerable.
Trying my best Les-Lee impression
Les-Lee was a Canadian who performed at the Le Carrousel and a contemporary of the Coccinelle, April Ashley and Bambi. I believe Miss lee was also famous for this difficult to pull off open mouthed pose. http://zagria.blogspot.ca/2013/04/les-lee-1929-2010-performer.html
First an apology to my American cousins who have yet to get Thanksgiving and Black Friday out of the way. Above the 49th parallel we celebrate turkey day a little earlier so the stores can begin their Christmas sales that much earlier.
Secondly an apology for my lack of blogging, work, looking for a career position, family, car repairs etc have taken most of my time leaving little for writing or friends.
Jeez, I could do a whole post on installing a new distributor in my Lincoln Mark IV....took Napa three attempts to get me the right one. I will save the whole sordid story for another post, I know you can't wait.
I have attempted to write this post a few times but gave up. Again sorry but this will be somewhat stream of consciousness, if I don't write it now I never will. In a nut shell, in approximately one week I will leave my home (I guess it will no longer be my home), separation/divorce will be finalized. I will be moving about thirty to forty minutes drive away. I wish I could be closer but I cannot afford it.
Circumstances mean that I will not be seeing my children everyday like I have been used to, getting them up in the morning, making them lunch, walking them to school, picking them them up from school, making dinner, telling them bedtime stories.
The oldest understands the dynamics of the situation but younger two will be hurt and confused. I am worried about myself as well. I am not the most happy go lucky person and the new reality of being apart from my children for extended periods of time will be hard to bear. Not to mention being alone and in unfamiliar surroundings during Christmas, which I always found to be a bittersweet holiday.
I wish I could cry those tears now and get them out of the way. I have tried to prepare myself for the emotional impact but how?
Yesterday after a particularly exhausting day at my part time job I hit the grocery store to make sure I had something for dinner this evening and to get a few more school lunch supplies. Christmas music was already playing, cutting through the usual saccharine pap was Darlene Love singing her 1963 hit, Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) I almost lost it and started to sob as I pushed my cart around the store.
OK here are a few more Xmas tear jerkers and wrist slitters to get out of the way and I promise I won't re-post them.
Ravonettes:
Judy Garland:
Ravonettes again with Come On Santa, because these guys know black melancholy....enjoy
OK cats and kittens hope you all had a good cry and feel a little better now.
Love
April
PS. Yes that is the beautiful Jayne Mansfield trimming the tree.
For most of my life I believed I had been born at the wrong time. I love everything from the fifties, the cars, the music, heck even the chrome toasters.
My mom listened to the Beatles and Kinks but I preferred the sounds of the prior decade, rockabilly, the louder and more obscure the better. I pick and choose some of the cool stuff from the sixties and seventies but in my heart I want to turn the clock back to 1956.
Of course being transsexual in the fifties would have been even more of a nightmare. Only a few pioneers like Coccinelle, Bambi and April Ashley had the guts and blind ambition to make their true selves a living reality.
Not very easy being gay or lesbian either. Oh but we were out there….even in the Madison Avenue of the fifties, though the messages were coded to a “knowing audience”.
I had read that gays in the advertising industry (as it would have been mostly men in a creative role at agencies then) often snuck in phrases and imagery that would have only been picked up by “fellow travelers”.
While pursuing some vintage ads for one of my favorite Virgil Exner designed cars, the 1957-1962 Imperials. (he is also responsible for the Stutz Blackhawk) I think I discovered one of those ads. Check out the above print ad for a beautiful black Imperial Crown coupe.
Going beyond the ads tag line, which could be forgiven for being from an earlier decade the body of the text reads like the script for a gay porno movie….so I ask you am I wrong?
As Cass said when I sent her a copy, "do you think the groom had any idea she had transitioned?"
Who knew Chrysler Corporation was so progressive ;)
Here is some very modern but vintage sounding rockabilly:
A quick post to wish everyone a happy Halloween, of course for someone as zombie obsessed as myself, everyday is Halloween.
Spent last night gutting and carving pumpkins to my children's designs, the youngest wanted her first initial to light up the night.
I had to work today so only a little extra eye makeup, red lips and skull earrings and necklace. Another lady unprompted said I should be a model....Cass I knew it was you in disguise...boy do you squirm when I tried to pull the rubber mask off.
No time for the angel of death costume this year, though I might wear my black halo and wings to hand out candy.
trying to look scary
the Cramps, the best band to play on Halloween and every other day too
Well I guess that would be dating a guy and him never guessing I was not born a woman, as that is not the case perhaps the title of this post should be the penultimate in passing.
As I seek the restart my career (fruitlessly it sometimes seems) I busy myself as a freelance writer, which unfortunately is too unpredictable to pay the bills.
In this recession bound economy even part time jobs are hard to come by.I remind myself that I am lucky to pick up a position in what is one of Canada’s high-end department stores. I was flattered to be hired for the lingerie department though I spend most of my time in shoes.
I should not be worried about passing after SRS but having surgery is no guarantee one will immediately be accepted as a woman by the public at large. Nor do I think I would have been hired for this particular job had I not passed convincingly.
Beyond the pay, my time in this job is a fascinating personal education in female socialization through both my co-workers and customers. Of course I have worked with women in the past but never as one of them. I am pleased that no one is aware of my past nor has guessed I have not always been female in body if not spirit.
It is interesting to see how the most stern visagd customer will melt when receiving a sincere compliment about her outfit, make up etc.My favorite was an elegant older lady (store demographics skew to a more mature crowd) who after I complimented her amazing eye makeup told me I should be a model. I have since adopted her!
Mostly I take passing for granted, but at least once a day I am caught by surprise when I hear, “oh that young lady is helping me” ….oh yeah that is me :)
It is also remarkable to think that it was only three years ago that I left this same mall in tears convinced I would never transition or be able to pass.
getting ready for work
we can wear any colour so long as it is black....lucky it is my favorite colour
below...exhausted after a seven hour shift
All told its not quite as fun as "Are You Being Served " made it out to be:
Sorry for my on line absence, I have been stuck down by the virulent flu or perhaps zombie virus that is going around my part of North America.
I did look up the derivation of sick as a parrot but it is far too murky to get into here. I guess I picked it up when I was at school in the UK during the late seventies/early eighties. I believe it has something to do with sports and being disappointment in the results. I always felt it to be a good description of feeling under the weather myself.
I appear to be over the worst of it, (see above image) Imagine me in all my feverish nose running horror.
Normal sporadic posts on transitioning, cars, music and my so called life to resume soon.
Here is the greatest horror movie opening sequence ever:
