Jebus...That Thing is Long

No not what you think!

I took the children to school this morning. As I was backing out of the parking lot in my lowered 76 Lincoln Mark IV. One of the moms not realizing I had the windows down uttered the above quote and I just knew I had to use it for the title of today’s post.

I am not sure if her exclamation was spoken in amazement, horror or admiration. So what does this have to do with being Trans….not much actually. However, I often take the children to school and it is hard not to succumb to dysphoria as I admire all the moms, whether dressed for the office in skirts and heels or just casual jeans and a t shirt.

Still presenting as male I am effectively segregated from their conversation, I long to be one of the girls. I want to tell them that I am one of you but of course I cannot.

When I transition I will not leave and start anew, I have children and responsibilities. It is inevitable that most of the people you see me will know who I used to be. Will I be included when I take the children to school as April…it should make for some interesting conversation on the playground before the bell rings.

Sunny day must be improving my mood, also heard that some progress has been made on my Jaguar XJS wiring harness (it has a Chevy V8) so that is good news. The Corvette powered Jag strikes me as a real April kind of car….we all need a little under hood conversion right?

Last night I washed the Lincoln and sealed up a leaky gasket around the steering column that was letting in copious amounts of hot air from the custom built 460. Then finally able to shed horrid guy clothes for girl jeans bra and top to watch TV and fold laundry...my I lead an exciting life.

By the way Jebus…it’s a Simpson’s thing
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=jebus

Hugs,

April

Am I A Woman?

My head starts to spin sometimes when I read transgendered theory, not just the scholarly works but also the insights of those of us so "afflicted”.

I used to go for long walks and debate endlessly in my mind whether I was really Trans or just fooling myself. I would return home physically and mentally exhausted.

I am past that stage now and am confident in my decision to transition. However, does that mean I was always a woman in the wrong body?

I can’t say that I always felt like a woman, really what benchmark would I use? I just knew that I was different and did not have the same ease amongst those of my own physical gender as did my contemporaries.

I had few if any male friends and preferred to hang out with the girls at university. I used to think that my lack of male bonding was due to the fact few guys shared my eclectic interests (no I am not talking about a love of shoes.)

So am I a woman, right now I don’t know. I wish I could answer in the affirmative but I feel trapped in a no man’s land between genders. I know I long to leave this purgatory and become the woman I am meant to be.

The process has started and I know I will make it

Hugs,

April

April’s Automotive MissAdventures (a continuing series)

Being thoroughly fed up with the Toronado’s leaky sun roof and stripped interior, I drove her home from work then parked her under cover for the rest of the week and will hopefully have some time to delve further into the mysteries of GM’s and ASC (American Sunroof Corp.) astroroof design.

My SO and a neighbor pushed the carburetor free 72 Mark IV out of the driveway so I could move the Corvette. The Vette was washed (it was of course dark by now) and driven over to my mothers for winter storage (thanks mom!). From mom’s I retrieved the 1976 Lincoln Mark IV which will hopefully serve daily driver duties until she goes into the shop for some tranny work…don’t get excited that means transmission.

The 76 Mark ran well though she is a pig on gas, single digits compared with the Toro’s 20mpg. A couple of idiosyncrasies to fix including a vacuum headlight switch that likes to fail on a regular basis. Her most glaring shortcoming is a terrible paint job that is beginning to chip and peel, no doubt to an earlier life spent outside in the hot Florida sun. If the Mark is to serve this winter the twenty inch rims will have to come off for the original 15’s.

Bottom line nice to have a car with an interior again!

Told Dad

I had lunch with my father on Friday and told him about how depressed I had been. My father called on Saturday and Sunday showing concern. I was working Sunday, filming at the race track. I told him that I would meet him at 10:00PM at his house.

I was not planning on telling him until much later in the transition process but I felt that I needed to tell him now and that the time was right, sometimes you have to follow your instincts. I was incredibly nervous and so scared it was almost physically impossible to get the words out.

My father is also an Anglican Minister (Episcopalian in the USA), his second career. It helped somewhat to think of him in his role as a minister hearing a confession rather than my father. I told him I am Transgendered, however he was not sure of the term, I explained what it meant and he was surprised. As a minister he did not have any real experience with Trans people but the Anglican church is open to gay community. It does turn out that he knew one M2F, an older woman who had passed away two years ago. She had fought in Burma in WWII and transitioned in the early seventies. He had thought quite highly of her.

I told him everything about the hormones, plans for surgery, what my real name is, I even showed him a couple of photos. He took everything quite calmly and asked intelligent and respectful questions. He told me that I had nothing to be ashamed or guilty about and that I am as God made me. He is still my dad so I held it together and did not cry but came very close. He even suggested that once my transition is "complete" that they have a celebration at the church. He was sorry what what I had gone through as a child and that I could not share my feelings earlier on.

I am so relived I was dreading having to tell him, we have not always had a close relationship and I went expecting the worst. I am really surprised but incredibly happy at his reaction to the news. I had a tough weekend dealing with some depression but feel a new purpose this morning.

Hugs,

April

Crappy Car Stuff:

In case you are interested in my automotive adventures. Just had time this morning to drop into an auto glass place, basically they washed their hands of the Toronado, too old too complex. I am trying to locate a terrible sun roof leak, I mean massive. I had the entire interior gutted and this is my daily driver! Feel silly driving around in an empty car with the headliner temporarily taped into place.

Some suggestions on where to look next, means more disassembly and that means car may have to be off the road for a time. As usual up to me to fix.

Getting desperate for a daily driver, Don’t want to push my Eldorado project as it is still a bit of an unknown, think best bet will be to fix trans issue on 76 Lincoln Mark IV as the car is in very good overall mechanical condition. Too bad the paint job is so bad.

Sent the carb for the 1972 Mark in for professional repair, bad news was that it kept leaking but I think I narrowed down the problem to the carb. The 72 is scheduled for storage as it is too delicate for winter duty.

Argh driving me to distraction…..with everything else going on I really don't need all these car problems. I need to save my time and energy for family and transition. Really who needs a double digit collection of 19 ft long cars?

Precious Hours

Ah the weekend, she approaches with endless promise. Family, a fleet of less than perfect “classic” cars and a house to clean does tend to eat up any down time.

True I have been able to dress in a more feminine fashion at home but it is hardly 100% April or for much time. The children have dance class, swimming and there are always chores to do outside. I am not quite ready for the neighbors to meet April.

My slice of suburbia is a real Peyton Place where no secret can remain hidden for long. As soon as one person knows he is planning to become a she the entire street will know about me….as they say, there goes the neighborhood.

Still I am lucky enough to get out once a week for coffee or drinks (mostly coffee, I am not that kind of girl) with a few close friends.

So much planning, preparation and stealth goes into these few precious hours I can be myself. Before I know it the evening is over and like Cinderella I must return to the drab male world for another week. I look ahead to living full time as a woman otherwise I would go mad.

But for a few hours I can be me and the joy is sometimes overwhelming and sometimes a quiet contentment. It is during these precious hours that the guilt and shame are vanquished and depression blotted out by a radiant soul.

This post is dedicated to all my sisters and brothers waiting for the weekend.

Hugs,

April

Hiding the Better Angels of Our Nature

Being Trans means that you are basically living in stealth all the time. Trying to be a man when inside you really are female. Or visa versa of course. Does being female but having to live as man mean I am in stealth mode?

Trans means never doing anything to bring attention to our true selves. To avoid at all costs any hint that we have female characteristics or tendencies.

The mundane becomes torture, I used to avoid shopping malls and still do when in drab. The predominantly female oriented shops caused terrible dysphoria and before I came out to my SO I was afraid my longing sideways glances at the store windows and a life denied would instantly give me away.

I work in a very male environment and have to be a typical bloke (as our English cousins say), laughing at the sexist jokes and mean spirited humor. Inside I recoil in disgust longing instead to be one of the girls.

Being Trans means always feeling apart from our co-workers and society at large, hiding our true selves, playing our cards close to our chest. Never showing the best of ourselves to our loved ones and friends. Hiding the better angels of our nature.

Cracks are appearing in my male persona, my hair is longer, and I wear it differently. Can my co-workers sense anything; do they notice the lack of facial and arm hair? The weight loss, the depression? Perhaps I am paranoid but I think they suspect something they just don’t know what. I know my co-workers already consider me “different”. I guess my eventual transition (not in this job LOL) will not be a total surprise. They will be able to say, “I knew there something wrong with him (her)”.

Extra Bonus Bitch Session:
Sometimes day to day life makes all the Trans issues doubly hard to deal with, work, car problems, home repairs sigh.

Blog absence yesterday was due to some on location filming for work. Managed to find an hour last night while family was out to work on my Lincoln Continental. A little progress on the Mark IV, no more flooding carb but odd exhaust note and lumpy idle remain.

One step forward two back, the family "truckster", Chrysler Town & Country is having mysterious drive train maladies…argh. SO is taking the big white mini-van (is that an oxymoron) to the garage today for a diagnosis.

Have to do more filming on Sunday so I miss the big British car show they have here every year. Although most of my cars come from Detroit I have a soft spot for cars from the old country.

Ok bitch session over. Here is something completely different as a palate cleaner and reward for listening to me whine:

Evelyne Courtois` singing a French version of Sha La La La Lee.




Hugs,

April

The Power of Song

I didn’t come to a love of music until my late teens after most of my contemporaries had already firmly established their musical tastes and were spending lots on albums and cassettes (wow dating myself).



I was searching for a sound but commercial radio and pre-internet media was still a mainstream wasteland. It was not a until I heard an obscure track from Jerry Lee Lewis, Ubangi Stomp, better known by Warren Smith both on the SUN label. Talk about a weird song to change ones life but there you go.



The DJ came on and said that was rockabilly, I now had a name for what I loved. Now you can hear the most obscure and rarest rockabilly 45’s with the click of a mouse. Back then I searched through dusty used record stores for 45s and bought high priced European imports.



Rockabilly has a large contemporary following and has even evolved into a “lifestyle”. Back in the day (geez I sound like grandpa Simpson) it was totally below the radar and being a fan was about as popular as being trans. Please note that the above paragraph does not apply to the UK where they have had a wide spread Teddy Boy/ Rockabilly sub culture since the fifties.



No musical talent myself, my brother is a different story (a great guitarist) but I did have my own radio show at university to propagandize for my eclectic taste in music.



I use rockabilly pretty loosely, I love early country, fifties gospel, sixties garage punk, French girl groups, surf and anything that has that wild rockabilly and innocence of early rock and roll.



I mentioned in n earlier post that I have been wrestling with depression, sometimes we forget how powerful music can be to move the soul. Last weekend I was able to fight of the blues with some new rockin’ tunes. My current favorite band is the Raveonettes, here are two tracks that have raised my spirits and have been keeping me dancing around the living room for the past couple of days.



By the way, Sharin Foo the female part of this Danish duo is very pretty and shows off some great retro dresses. I also love her straight blond hair.



So do yourself a favor, break out your favorite track and dance and sing out loud you will feel better.



Hugs,



April

Random Thoughts from Suburbia

Saturday September 11th, flew Old Glory from my house. It looked so beautiful hanging there the red white and blue against the newly laid sod.

I have tried to make this a tradition; I still feel the terrible pain of that day. No one I knew died that day, one employee of the national bank I used to work for was killed. All Toronto came to a halt and the streets were filled with people trying to get home as the subways were closed.

I stayed late at my desk and left an empty business district at the end of the day to journey home to a waiting family. So many would wait in vain…

Despite being English by birth and having lived in Canada most of my life in my heart I am an American. My family’s first steps in the New World were through New York, like generations of immigrants before (but not Ellis Island which closed in 1954).

I majored in American history at university, the cars, the music I love they are all a product of the amazing democratic experiment across the 49 parallel. The freedom and liberty we enjoy would be impossible with her existence.

A bit of a manic weekend. Saturday saw a return of depression, trouble with my Lincoln Mark IV carburetor, rebuilt it but no joy. Sent me into a bit of a tail spin, will try again this evening.
Went out with my girl friend Marissa last night for coffee, drove a new Mitsubishi Evo press car. Still on such a high, it sooooo good to be out, happy with the photos too! We talked about my progress and for a minute I felt I was in the fast lane. Getting out so builds one's confidence, I wish I could do it more.

Feeling positive hope I can make it last!

My birthday today. My oldest gave me a home made card that said that my present was that she was renaming the character in her "novel" she is writing April, after me! Yes, I was very moved! Best present ever!

Hugs,

April