Nuts to You

fair waring, lots of car stuff follows with a pithy segue back to trans issues.

I was up early yesterday to drive to the industrial city of Hamilton to get a front end alignment done on the Electra. The old alignment shop I had used to patronize had to my chagrin closed , the owner retired…I guess it had been a while since I had been there…six or seven years as it turns out.

The new shop was near the harbour in the heart of the steel mills. It was a beautiful morning and even this part of the city looked bright and new in the spring sunshine. I made good time as I was running against traffic and flew over the Skyway bridge at 80 plus mph.

The Electra had developed a pronounced pull to the left at speed making driving rather unpleasant. I had a sneaking feeling that the tires, of indeterminate age, might be to blame.

A quick inspection at the shop revealed the front end to be tight and the mechanic

pronounced the Electra in excellent shape underneath (thanks original owner) and that the culprit was my first guess a bad right side tire.

I decided to drive home on the lakeshore road instead of the highway. Later that day I jacked the car and removed the offending tire. Once off the car a very bad bulge could be seen in the tread area. I am lucky I did not have a blow out at speed or my road to womanhood would have been in a hearse.

Getting the wheel off was a bit of a problem as the car had cheap replacement chrome lug nuts, I am sure GM never used these as original equipment. One of the nuts would only spin when a tire iron was applied.

Turns out that the shiny part was just a stainless steel shell over a standard open nut. Years of on and off again had distorted the shell making it spin around the steel nut and making the wheel impossible to remove. I managed to split the shell and pry it off with a scream driver so I could then get a ratchet on the nut .

I will invest in a new set of tires and nuts but to keep the Electra mobile I fitted a spare tire and Buick mag rim I just had stashed away in the garden shed. Sometimes it does pay to be an automotive pack rat. The tire and wheel was the spare from my dearly departed 1970 Riviera GS and the rim itself I believe dated back to my first car, a 1971 Buick Centurion convertible.

I even had a good used mag wheel centre cap to replace the original faded one. It had for the last few months served as a paper weight on my desk. A test drive showed the Buick to now drive and brake in a straight line.

How long had that wheel cap waited in a box in the garage then as a paper weight, now part of a functional automobile again after all these many years. Perhaps like that part those of us transitioning will have the benefit of a second act in our lives.

I know the role I am auditioning for.

Super tired today as 'J" and I were up talking very late, subjects both deep and trivial, like old times.

Like attracts like. Picture with the Allante is from Mother's day, both examples of GM luxury all be it from different decades in the appropriate setting of a country club parking lot.

Summer is almost upon us so lets have some Beach Boys.

Hugs,

April

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

I so often get bogged down in the terrible drama and angst of changing genders…or rather claiming the right one. Make no mistake it is the most socially subversive and difficult thing you can do.

On my calmer days, those rare occasions when I am comfortable and at peace with myself I often think what is the big deal, why should I worry about what everyone else thinks. I am lucky to live in a free and democratic society and it is my choice and mine alone as to who I am and how I choose to live. I must be channeling the true me, as my therapist describes her, ruthless but compassionate.

Now if I could just find a balance between the angst and Pollyannaish declarations of freedom I will be fine.

As I wrote to a friend the other day my worries over my job, business deals and the companies survival (let alone supporting my family, keeping the house etc if my job was too disappear) overshadowed if not outweighed the fear about coming out to my boss. All of a sudden I was snapped out of my paralysis of fear, I know I can tell him now and let the chips fall where they may.

I cannot go back, it I have to find a new job it will be as April, brave words I know. The title of this post is apropos as I have often said going full time is not burning your ship on the shore but the nuke the planet from space option. I am saving that clip from Aliens for the day I go 24/7.

Now I just have to catch him in a good mood. Give me a couple of weeks, stay tuned.

Saturday night I was able to get out a local GLBT dance, new Japanese themed dress from Le Chateau.

Hugs,

April

Is that a Hatori Hanso sword or are you just glad to see me?

Devil at the Crossroads

I feel that my life is at a crossroads, the time has come to tell my employer, the gateway to me going full time sooner rather than (much) later.

To say nothing and preserve the status quo, that road sees me cut my hair and put April on ice (a 45 right between the eyes for that pushy broad) or perhaps try and integrate her into my predominantly male life. I think it is all or nothing, living only for those stolen moments as my true self would be too painful.

The other road sees me open my arms to the possibilities of the universe, the real fear of financial ruin, public scorn and loss of a relatively comfortable middle class existence. The promise of success and the joy of becoming the woman I was supposed to be.

I'm tired of waiting on you…

Hugs,

April

Recognize the tune, used in The Walking Dead.

Roadrunner Once

I walked by the Stop n' Shop

Then I drove by the Stop n' Shop

I liked that much better than walking by the Stop n' Shop

because I had the radio on

Truer words have never been spoken

Random Thoughts from Suburbia

My up and down emotions had me in depressive valley yesterday, down about work and the worry concerning telling my boss. I think coming out to someone important is like an earthquake. The pressure builds and builds over time until the force of the truth must finally be released. I have tried to be cool and detached but as events at other companies have conspired to ruin all my best laid plans the time to tell has come whether I want it or not. I cannot wait any longer, the day is imminent, acceptance or ruin.

My fears about the toll my transition is taking on my wife's emotional well being are well founded. As usual when depressed I stayed up too late, this time we ended up talking instead of sleeping. Again she encouraged me to seek pharmacological help, we have drifted apart and neither can continue on the path we are on without breaking down. Although not her intention our discussion makes me feel terribly guilty, if it were not for the children I would wish to travel back in time and erase our meeting. To allow her to find someone normal and not the flawed person she ended up with.

On past occasion I will think can I put all this all behind me and try once again to live as a normal man, husband and father. Is it a sacrifice that could remain permanent? Would it save things? Our talk does not cause any of these doubts to return but rather reinforces my decision, my transsexual status all the more clear through the hurt of her own memories of our life together.

Lets switch gears, Magda Goebbels. I made the mistake of watching the excellent German film Downfall, earlier this week. The story of the last days of Hitler as Berlin falls to the final assault by the Red Army. I have always been fascinated by the end of things, nations, ideologies, even corporations. The disillusion of the Confederacy, the defeat of the Third Reich even the end of the Packard Motor Company. A list GM almost found themselves on recently.

The scene where Mrs. Goebbels, a true believer in National Socialism to the bitter end poisons her five children was almost too much to watch and I wept. Despite its intensity I would still recommended it highly. The eldest daughter Helga sensed what was coming and tried to resist.

I bumped into an old work colleague the other day at the Chapters book store. We were both looking at the hot rod magazines, he hadn't recognized me, not thinking I said hello. He appeared shocked, no I was not en femme, but my hair, the weight I had lost (not that much I thought) and the changes in my face brought about by hormones obviously threw him for a loop. We talked about business and cars but I could tell my appearance was a distraction.

Amazing election results here in the land of ice and snow an unnecessary (and dangerous to the economy) election called by the Liberal party to defeat the Conservative minority government resulted in a large Conservative victory, the New Democrats supplanting the Liberals as the official opposition. Speaking of the end of things the Liberals were reduced to only 30 plus seats and the separatist Bloc Quebecois party almost fades into oblivion. I have no doubt the Liberals will be back.

So not a bad week in the news, especially as the mass murder Bin Laden is also consigned to the dust bin of history. A Navy Seal dispatched him with a "double tap" to the head…shades of Zombieland.

Hugs,

April

Supermodel

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:

Dark Angel

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.”

Hugs,

April

Bonjour

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.