Thursday, 26 March 2015

Motorhead Girls

Motorhead Girls ... we are girls who love cars, trucks, bikes, planes, and boats. Anything with a motor. Maybe we love some of them, maybe we love all of them, if it's got a motor, we love it.

Sometimes we think we can't love these things or play with them cause we're girls, well think again .... girls can do anything we want to ... just as long as we have the right outfit.

There's nothing much more to say ... JUST DO IT!

And here's something special for Bettie ... you know who you are ... see 1:10 for some real Betty/Bettie action



Friday, 13 March 2015

Right where I should be

Today I was at the Canada Summit Center for my (almost) daily 15 laps (3.0 Km) around the upper level walking track. Prior to starting my walk, I went into the Ladies room. 

Then it struck me, If some of these  bathroom laws in the US and Canada are passed I may not be able to continue doing this. I've been going to the ladies room for over 40 years, and never a peep or a hassle. My ID is all corrected and says Female, but what if ... ?

I admire the young people going to the opposite sex washrooms and taking selfies. Young trans men are doing it and young trans women are doing it.  Their campaign has received the right kind of attention and has been mentioned this week in a Canada Senate hearing on revoking the amendment to Bill C-279.

I really don't think I'll have a problem even if this ridiculous legislation passes. But still it would be embarrassing if some jackass arbitrarily asks for my proof of gender when I am entering a Ladies room.

So I offer this photo of myself in the Women's Washroom at the Canada Summit Center. This is right where I should be.

Top and Skinny Jeans by Long Tall Sally, Body by Long Tall Allie

Today was my personal best time for the 3 K walk of 31 minutes, 45 seconds, and average of 2:07 per lap, or a rate of about 5.7 KPH.

So in commemoration of my personal best, I give you a great tune from one of my favorite girl bands the Bangles ... "Walk Like an Egyptian".




and here's the track where I did my "Walking Like an Egyptian"

The upper level of the ice rink at the Canada Summit Center in Huntsville, ON is a .2 K track. It's open from 7:30 AM to 10:00 PM. Ant it seems there's always someone there. It's safe and accessible and used by the entire community.
   

Monday, 9 March 2015

Nice sunny day for shopping, and for just feeling good

Today was one of those mostly sunny days near the end of the winter and teases me that spring is just around the corner. So when I got ready to go do a bit of grocery shopping, I had to put on my sunglasses. 

I went into the powder room to check my outfit, and I figured that I looked so good I deserved a selfie. 

  
I like it when I feel good about myself. Today was one of these days, and as a matter of fact I was feeling great all weekend. The hubby came up to the cottage for the weekend and we had some very enjoyable time together. There are lots of projects on the go so we kept busy. 

But in the down times, we had some nice meals, watched some Netflix, and just spent time together.

But back to the sunny day with promise of spring and summer, here's a tune that always stirs me up, "Here Comes the Sun" by Richie Havens:


That was the tune that Richie Havens opened with at Woodstock 1969. What an event it was. In 1969 I was 19 years old, and a university student.

They say that if you remember Woodstock, you weren't there. I can't remember being there myself so ... ?? Sadly I couldn't find a clip of Richie doing this tune at Woodstock.

But I found this one that he closed with "Freedom / Motherless Child":

 
And with all of this pent up craving for spring and summer, I'm really missing our boat and the lazy days on the water. Here she is, "Happy I Am", a 1967 Crestliner 17 feet long built in Waterloo, Ontario. I can't wait till the first weekend in May, when she'll be back at the dock, ready to go out to the lake whenever we feel like it.

 
 

Thursday, 5 March 2015

An 11 year old girl ... une fille de onze ans



























Today I came across a picture in my aunt Meg's funeral album. I'd thought that I had destroyed all pictures of myself from the past. But there it was, like a slap in the face. It was a picture one of my cousins found amongst his mother's keepsakes.

There are 10 cousins all together, and I am smack in the middle.We are sitting on the steps to aunt Gerrie's house. The house was in an Acadian fishing village on the east coast of Canada, a small village, population 79. Originally accessible only by boat, but sometime after my mother was born, in 1925, and the beginning of World War II in 1939, a road was built to the nearest highway about 60 miles away.

I can remember the house and the wonderful times we had visiting there as children. Mom was always excited to go "down home" in the summer, and we went almost every year of my childhood.

It was exciting for me too. I liked my 'Cajun cousins. I had a bond with them. I was born there, and lived the first 4 years of my life amongst them. I learned to speak French as my first language, even though I lost it as I was later raised in an all English speaking environment.

In this photo I am 11 years old, as near as I can figure out. I was tall already, 5'11. I was gangly, but surprisingly well co-ordinated, and I was extremely dysphoric and depressed.

And so, what does this have to do with an 11 year old girl? Well, it is myself that I'm referring to. I had already started puberty and had reached depths of depression I hadn't known before. My gender dysphoria was growing stronger every day. Days of travelling by car, just sitting there gave me too much time to think about the girl I am supposed to be. It was awful, I felt terrible.

But one of the bright lights for me was that I was the favorite of most of my girl cousins. They always wanted to be around me and included me in there games and activities. I wasn't accepted as a girl, but I was accepted as one of their group. Maybe it was because I embraced their 'Cajun culture and unlike my siblings showed a love and respect for it. I liked being with them because we spoke French when we were all together, and it helped me to keep the spirit of Acadia alive in my heart.

But now comes the 11 year old girl part. When we visited down home, we stayed in various homes, and I stayed in aunt Gerrie's house. The spare room that I was placed in was also used as a storage room for my aunt's clothes. She had a lot of clothes, maybe all of her old outfits were kept and stored there but there were lots and lots of women's clothes. Including bras, panties, skirts, blouses, dresses, everything. Here I was put in a room by myself with all of these clothes. It was a dream come true for me.

When we were there, I always wanted to go to bed early at night because I would take advantage of the opportunity to dress up. Most nights I would try on two or 3 outfits, and I would pick one outfit to sleep in. Luckily, I woke up early enough to change out of the outfit before the rest of the house was awake, and get everything put back where I found it.

All but one time. That one time, Celia came into the room to wake me up for an early breakfast at a friend of hers. It was a close call. I was still under the covers but she was in the room. I don't know if I had left anything out from my rummage through the closets and drawers, but she never said anything. And in later years when I reconnected with my Acadian family, she came to me and said "you were always my favorite cousin". Today we remain the best of friends.

I was going to include something about the shame and guilt I felt about my dysphoria, and dressing up, But really this is not the place for that. I had a great time with my cousins and my Acadian culture, I had private room full of dresses and skirts. All things considered, the visits down home were the highlights of my life back then. Let's celebrate the good times when we get them!

And now, for some good old 'Cajun Zydeco from a Canadian artist Edith Butler, Allons Danser, Colinda:
 

And how could I forget a picture of the car we drove to get there? We had a '57 Pontiac for a long time. It definitely made the trip down home more than once or twice. It was a great car as far as I can remember and everyone of us in the family loved it. 

 

Sunday, 22 February 2015