April E. Brucker's Blog, page 45
September 4, 2013
Unhooking The Stars
When one is young and they have a room for an infant, they install a mobile in the crib. I remember I had one when I was that age. It had moons and stars. They fascinated me so much that I would just tug at them. I pulled off the moon. Then I pulled off a few of the stars. And then one day the whole mobile came crashing down. Maybe this was foreshadowing the fact I would be so ambitious.
Or maybe sometimes it is symbolic of how something so beautiful and so perfect can be destroyed by humans.
Most recently, I had a huge falling out with a friend and co-collaborator. We were doing big things. We were writing, getting ready to film a television pilot, the wheels were turning. I ended up sort of a part of his circle of friends. He became like a brother friend, and I hadn't had one since my friend Joe who sadly passed a little over two years ago. I also really liked his fiance. I was like new friends, "YIPEE!!!"
So we started working together and it all seemed good. Out of the projects I had under my belt this was the closest I was to being on a time line. I was set. The wheels were in motion. We were booking the spaces, making the outlines, booking the guests. And then he had an announcement. He was honeymooning in Hawaii.
Granted, he was getting married. So he was unavailable to begin with sometimes. Then when he announced he was honeymooning in Hawaii it meant suddenly he was saving his money and wanted everything for free. Free and New York City aren't the same thing. I felt like I was being pushed around as at first I scouted out discount space and then when asked to split it with me he insisted I pay EVERYTHING. What was worse was that he sat back, barked orders, and then insisted I do all the work. When not done to his specifications, he would bark more orders. When I tried to make him a part of things he was busy at his spinning class. Tensions were running high. That was the understatement of the century.
Nothing with this whole thing was coming together either. As time went on, I began having anxiety attacks. The bullets on his end turned from professional to personal. I was a man hater for being a strong woman instead of the pedigreed princesses he believed all women should be. I was a Simon Legree because God forbid I make him do his share of the work. Last Thursday everything came crashing down. I got us a good deal on a space and apparently it wasn't good enough. It resulted in us cussing each other out via text. From there, he disfriended me on facebook, disfollowed me on twitter, and of course went the extra mile to subtract me as an admin from a page with mostly my followers. The falling out hurt. I won't lie. The only thing I did was demand someone do what they were supposed to do and treat me fairly. Nevermind he was so manipulative and demanding I could barely eat and lived on ginger ale
I miss having a big brother friend and the friendship we had. However, I don't miss him putting down every little idea I had and insisting I had issues with men that weren't there. Yes, all men want is sex. Most dudes can be honest. Why can't you? Plus don't you think it's a little creepy that you tell people if you weren't marrying what's her face that you would be with me?
As for his fiance, I really liked her. I thought she was a decent person. I think she was desperate to get married and have a baby. Her plans would have thrown us off course if she had gotten knocked up. I think she settled and could do so much better. But on the flipside, I don't know how good of friends we could have been. She has been planning her wedding since she was five and expects the dude to pay when he takes her to dinner. I am on the other side of the spectrum. I don't need a guy and I don't care. Actually, I spend most of my time making fun of women like that.
Overall, I think I will be fine. I have some other neat projects. One being a musical. Two others being awesome. And the third being my audiobook which should be up by next week.
I guess the loss of a friendship hurts. But being worked to death and used hurts much more. I am glad things didn't go forward. It could have only ended badly, and we would have spent a lot of money. There is a part of me that says he can enjoy knowing that everytime we went out, people always recognized me from television. There is another part of me that feels maybe I could have done things differently. But there is a third part of me that may never know.
Either way in the end it was a collision of instincts and knowing that sometimes a dreamer and a doer cannot play together that was the lesson of the day.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
Or maybe sometimes it is symbolic of how something so beautiful and so perfect can be destroyed by humans.
Most recently, I had a huge falling out with a friend and co-collaborator. We were doing big things. We were writing, getting ready to film a television pilot, the wheels were turning. I ended up sort of a part of his circle of friends. He became like a brother friend, and I hadn't had one since my friend Joe who sadly passed a little over two years ago. I also really liked his fiance. I was like new friends, "YIPEE!!!"
So we started working together and it all seemed good. Out of the projects I had under my belt this was the closest I was to being on a time line. I was set. The wheels were in motion. We were booking the spaces, making the outlines, booking the guests. And then he had an announcement. He was honeymooning in Hawaii.
Granted, he was getting married. So he was unavailable to begin with sometimes. Then when he announced he was honeymooning in Hawaii it meant suddenly he was saving his money and wanted everything for free. Free and New York City aren't the same thing. I felt like I was being pushed around as at first I scouted out discount space and then when asked to split it with me he insisted I pay EVERYTHING. What was worse was that he sat back, barked orders, and then insisted I do all the work. When not done to his specifications, he would bark more orders. When I tried to make him a part of things he was busy at his spinning class. Tensions were running high. That was the understatement of the century.
Nothing with this whole thing was coming together either. As time went on, I began having anxiety attacks. The bullets on his end turned from professional to personal. I was a man hater for being a strong woman instead of the pedigreed princesses he believed all women should be. I was a Simon Legree because God forbid I make him do his share of the work. Last Thursday everything came crashing down. I got us a good deal on a space and apparently it wasn't good enough. It resulted in us cussing each other out via text. From there, he disfriended me on facebook, disfollowed me on twitter, and of course went the extra mile to subtract me as an admin from a page with mostly my followers. The falling out hurt. I won't lie. The only thing I did was demand someone do what they were supposed to do and treat me fairly. Nevermind he was so manipulative and demanding I could barely eat and lived on ginger ale
I miss having a big brother friend and the friendship we had. However, I don't miss him putting down every little idea I had and insisting I had issues with men that weren't there. Yes, all men want is sex. Most dudes can be honest. Why can't you? Plus don't you think it's a little creepy that you tell people if you weren't marrying what's her face that you would be with me?
As for his fiance, I really liked her. I thought she was a decent person. I think she was desperate to get married and have a baby. Her plans would have thrown us off course if she had gotten knocked up. I think she settled and could do so much better. But on the flipside, I don't know how good of friends we could have been. She has been planning her wedding since she was five and expects the dude to pay when he takes her to dinner. I am on the other side of the spectrum. I don't need a guy and I don't care. Actually, I spend most of my time making fun of women like that.
Overall, I think I will be fine. I have some other neat projects. One being a musical. Two others being awesome. And the third being my audiobook which should be up by next week.
I guess the loss of a friendship hurts. But being worked to death and used hurts much more. I am glad things didn't go forward. It could have only ended badly, and we would have spent a lot of money. There is a part of me that says he can enjoy knowing that everytime we went out, people always recognized me from television. There is another part of me that feels maybe I could have done things differently. But there is a third part of me that may never know.
Either way in the end it was a collision of instincts and knowing that sometimes a dreamer and a doer cannot play together that was the lesson of the day.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
September 3, 2013
Sparkle Motion
I came home for the first time in forever this past weekend. Things had been a hippin and a hoppin in The Big Apple and let me just say I needed a bit of a rest. So I spent Labor Day weekend crashing by my mother's pool and chillin with the grandparents.
Friday night I found myself back at my old high school though. It was Friday night lights. Both football teams were on the field and everyone was ready. After all, this is Western, PA. Of course anyone who is anyone is there from the mayor on down. The school board superintendent was there along with the school board publicity person. This is just the start of fall. The start of football weekends. The start of the half time shows good and bad.
Our home team was winning. My baby cousin was on the field working as a water boy on the field earning his proverbial wings. All was well in the little hamlet outside of the Steeler Nation. That is when the home team's band began the half time show. You figure their football team sucked. Maybe their band will rock it out. At first it started out innocently enough. I always cut them some slack because they are kids. Granted, I live in NYC, where we have the greatest talent pool ever. They began their set with some lackluster eighties song and went downhill from there. When the band and football team suck, at least there is always the closing number, right?
Dead wrong.
When the band announced their closing number, I expected them to prove me wrong. Blow me out of the water. That is when they announced they would be performing "Ode to Joy." The band absolutely butchered this classic by the great Beethoven. To add insult to injury, their drill team did this terrible dance rendition to it. They were out of sync with each other. The girls were leaping at different times and even Stevie Wonder could see that they were off. Then the baton twirlers kept dropping their batons. Then one girl dropped a flag.
I kept thinking,"It is Friday night, you are in the spotlight. Get it together or get off the stage."
Of course I also pictured poor Beethoven, who had long suffered his entire life. He had been overshadowed by the more handsome, more commercially successful, but albeit 17th century hack Mozart. Not to mention he was so poor and desperate that while on a walk home in the rain he grabbed a pen off of Shubert's grave. Then lest we forget his father beat him until he mastered the piano. And then he lost his hearing and died in poverty. Now this man who suffered so much was stabbing himself in the head with the pen he stole from Shubert in the afterlife. Oh the horror! As I pictured the poor aggrieved composer I remembered a line from Donny Darko that surmised this series of events best:
"Sometimes I doubt your commitment to sparkle motion."
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
Friday night I found myself back at my old high school though. It was Friday night lights. Both football teams were on the field and everyone was ready. After all, this is Western, PA. Of course anyone who is anyone is there from the mayor on down. The school board superintendent was there along with the school board publicity person. This is just the start of fall. The start of football weekends. The start of the half time shows good and bad.
Our home team was winning. My baby cousin was on the field working as a water boy on the field earning his proverbial wings. All was well in the little hamlet outside of the Steeler Nation. That is when the home team's band began the half time show. You figure their football team sucked. Maybe their band will rock it out. At first it started out innocently enough. I always cut them some slack because they are kids. Granted, I live in NYC, where we have the greatest talent pool ever. They began their set with some lackluster eighties song and went downhill from there. When the band and football team suck, at least there is always the closing number, right?
Dead wrong.
When the band announced their closing number, I expected them to prove me wrong. Blow me out of the water. That is when they announced they would be performing "Ode to Joy." The band absolutely butchered this classic by the great Beethoven. To add insult to injury, their drill team did this terrible dance rendition to it. They were out of sync with each other. The girls were leaping at different times and even Stevie Wonder could see that they were off. Then the baton twirlers kept dropping their batons. Then one girl dropped a flag.
I kept thinking,"It is Friday night, you are in the spotlight. Get it together or get off the stage."
Of course I also pictured poor Beethoven, who had long suffered his entire life. He had been overshadowed by the more handsome, more commercially successful, but albeit 17th century hack Mozart. Not to mention he was so poor and desperate that while on a walk home in the rain he grabbed a pen off of Shubert's grave. Then lest we forget his father beat him until he mastered the piano. And then he lost his hearing and died in poverty. Now this man who suffered so much was stabbing himself in the head with the pen he stole from Shubert in the afterlife. Oh the horror! As I pictured the poor aggrieved composer I remembered a line from Donny Darko that surmised this series of events best:
"Sometimes I doubt your commitment to sparkle motion."
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
August 29, 2013
Being Of Service
The other day I was so tired my bones hurt. It had been a busy week in the land of The Superfoxxx. I was an overworked, tired woman trying to take on the world. Just then my phone rang. It was my boss Bruce. He wanted me to deliver a singing telegram to Sloan Kettering. Apparently, the woman I was delivering to was going through chemo and her friend in another city couldn't be there to support her. So she wanted to make her friend laugh and decided to send a black gorilla.
I always like delivering to Sloan. It's one of those places where everyone is positive. They have to be. It's a cancer hospital. I went up to the front desk and asked where the chemo room was. As to surprise the woman under the treatment, I went to the bathroom and changed into my gorilla costume. Out in my get up, I asked where the chemo room was. The doctor, who saw me, laughed and said, "This way."
I entered the chemo room, and the woman I was singing to was under the drip. Her friends there to support her were laughing like hyenas when I entered in the black gorilla costume. I sang "You Are Great," Don't Worry Be Happy," and gave the woman a little cheer. She was flattered and embarrassed. As her friends laughed, she said, "I am so happy I am not in the waiting room right now. I want to kill Amy." And then she started laughing. There were plenty of photos and laughs. And then a nurse came in and snagged me to go into the room of another patient. I gave that patient a good luck fist bump.
Both these women will hopefully go into remission. And part of their experience at the hospital, which is stressful, will be that they received a singing telegram. They will remember it as something positive mixed in with the terrifying diagnosis of the Big C and all the pain, worry, and HMO drama that came with it. They will remember how for as rotten as things were at that moment, they got to smile.
The wonderful thing about seeing success in my career is that people tell me they enjoy my book and my work. But sometimes, when things get stressful with my new schedule, I lose site of my original purpose. I decided to pursue the path I did because I enjoy making others laugh. I enjoy making the world a better place.
While my job is to be fabulous, I cannot lose track of my original mission.
That is to be of service.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
I always like delivering to Sloan. It's one of those places where everyone is positive. They have to be. It's a cancer hospital. I went up to the front desk and asked where the chemo room was. As to surprise the woman under the treatment, I went to the bathroom and changed into my gorilla costume. Out in my get up, I asked where the chemo room was. The doctor, who saw me, laughed and said, "This way."
I entered the chemo room, and the woman I was singing to was under the drip. Her friends there to support her were laughing like hyenas when I entered in the black gorilla costume. I sang "You Are Great," Don't Worry Be Happy," and gave the woman a little cheer. She was flattered and embarrassed. As her friends laughed, she said, "I am so happy I am not in the waiting room right now. I want to kill Amy." And then she started laughing. There were plenty of photos and laughs. And then a nurse came in and snagged me to go into the room of another patient. I gave that patient a good luck fist bump.
Both these women will hopefully go into remission. And part of their experience at the hospital, which is stressful, will be that they received a singing telegram. They will remember it as something positive mixed in with the terrifying diagnosis of the Big C and all the pain, worry, and HMO drama that came with it. They will remember how for as rotten as things were at that moment, they got to smile.
The wonderful thing about seeing success in my career is that people tell me they enjoy my book and my work. But sometimes, when things get stressful with my new schedule, I lose site of my original purpose. I decided to pursue the path I did because I enjoy making others laugh. I enjoy making the world a better place.
While my job is to be fabulous, I cannot lose track of my original mission.
That is to be of service.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
August 28, 2013
Talking Funny
When I was younger I always got made fun of for the way I spoke. I sounded squeaky. The words I used were too big. The my tone was too high. It was just another stone mean kids threw. Nevermind I struggled with my weight. My mother also dressed me. I had cystic acne. Things were not going well. What I had going for me were my dreams, my love of writing, my love of creativity, and my skill to nose dive no matter how much of a fool it made me look.When college came around, I was in New York. I asked someone for a gumband. In Pittsburgh, we say gumbands and mean rubber bands. So I asked for a gumband. These kids who were weaned on Prozac with doctor parents and went to private schools laughed at me. They didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. I already hated the way I talked and felt like a redneck who had hopelessly wandered into a Metropolis. Then there was the incident in the speech class where my sounds were hopelessly being corrected. That is when one of my teachers who was from Pittsburgh said, “It’s your accent coming out.”The kids in my class said, “April isnt just weird.”“No,” My teacher explained. “There is a whole city of people who talk just like this.” Awestruck and fascinated, my classmates went to a website where regional dialects were listed. That semester, our section at The Lee Strasberg Institute became obsessed with my accent and my slanguage. For the first time ever, I was alright with the way I talked.The serenity would be short lived. During my junior year, I managed to get into a relationship with someone that was abusive. I have written about him. He made me give up my puppets and that was just the tip of the iceberg. When things were heating up between us, I was set to hang out with his friends. We were sipping coffee at Starbucks and my ex said, “When you hang out with my friends, just…..play it cool.”“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked confused.“Look, my friends don’t like the way you talk.”“What?”“Yeah, they say you sound like a chipmunk.” My confidence was shot. It was an arrow. My ex wasn’t defending me against his friends and now I had to compromise. I sent the session with him and his boys silent as a mime. I soon tried to change the way I talked which just made me feel like a fraud. I swore a lot which made me feel fake. I tried to drop my voice which made me feel like a man. It didn’t work. I became a phony mute about a lot of things, like the extent of the abuse I was facing. I don’t know what was worse about that part of my life, the fact I had to endure it or the fact I chose to put up with it. When the relationship ended, I was left a self-loathing mess. I remember doing a set where someone told me the way I spoke was distinct. I thought it was their way of saying annoying. When my ex and his friends began their relentless campaign of harassment, one thing they aimed at was the way I spoke. I remember thinking that I was smarter and better than they were, and one day I had the guts to realize it and that’s how I was able to escape. That is when I realized I had let him take away my sense of self-worth. The way I spoke was okay. It was alright. And anyone who didn’t like it could go to hell.Slowly I began to embrace the way I spoke. It not only became a part of the new, confident me. As I became more confident in my speaking voice, my singing voice began to take a better shape. Granted, it was always it’s own animal, but I better understood how to make it more pleasing to the ear. I wasn’t afraid of what people would say about me. If they didn’t like the way I spoke we didn’t have to be friends, plain and simple.This past winter/spring Metrophonic and Mercy Sound became a second home to me. My old college classmate and sound engineer Archie Ekong explained my fans would want to hear me reading my book. Archie told me it would have a unique flavor with me narrating. Then he said, “April, you are the only one with your voice. It’s pretty distinct.”“Yeah, that’s what people tell me. I don’t think I will get away with prank calling anyone soon.” I said.Archie looked at me dead in the eye and said, “No.” And we both burst out laughing. At that moment I realized that it was pretty cool that I was the only one who spoke like I did. These past few years have also seen success not only in the realms of writing but also comedy getting me television time. Sometimes fans recognize me when armed with my puppets. Other times, I will get recognized by the way I speak. The other day, I was at a meeting for a pilot I am shooting. We were deeply emerged in a discussion when the waitress came over. She asked me, “Excuse me, I have a question for you.” “Yes.” I asked.“Are you a comedian?”“Yes.”“The guy who works with you in the back thinks he saw you on TV.” My jaw dropped open. He was in the back. There was no way in hell he could have seen me.“How did he know it was me?” I asked. “Oh, he recognized your voice and says you are very funny.” She replied. My jaw dropped open. This was awesome!!!! I made a new fan and friend. Something like this is double awesome when it happens at a pilot pitch meeting. My co-host and co-producer thought it was pretty cool as well. Later that evening, I was running errands and heard two kids talking. They were taking fun of this young woman in their class at school and the way she spoke. These two mean girls mimicked her. It made me think of some of the people who gave me the same “star treatment” back in the day that now have the audacity to write me a facebook letter to congratulate me when things go well with the career. Actually, it was disgusting as it brought back a flood of hellacious memories. Then I passed the theatre where Kinky Boots played. I remember when Cyndi Lauper did an interview where she spoke about being bullied for the way she spoke and dressed. She remarked in her Betty Boop-eque twang, “They used to throw rocks at me for my clothes, now they want to know where I get them.”For the longest time my voice was like Rudolph’s nose. People made fun of me for having it, now it part of the package that is beginning to make me successful. Cyndi Lauper’s, it is part of the package that has made her a legend. Hopefully the young lady they were making fun of will just realize that those two are idiots who need to be ignored and won’t feed in.
Hopefully she won’t care and will always use her voice.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.com
Hopefully she won’t care and will always use her voice.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.com
August 26, 2013
The Responsibility to Be PosITive.
When your career starts to take off, it is really exciting. I know because I am experiencing it now. Several times a week I am in front of a camera for ITTV. I have a taping for one project, a location scouting appointment for another, and of course a conference call for a third. Of course in there my audiobook is now ready for release and there is a musical to be written. Oh and I have a book signing I am currently scheduling in my hometown. Then there is something I am doing where I have to call on West Coast Time. If this were an oven, it would be hot. So needless to say at the end of a lot of days I am tired.
Last week I was feeling crunched. When I feel crunched I start snapping at people. From the fat woman who doesn't walk fast enough to to the idiot with the baby carriage to the gaggle of kids talking too loud on the train I want to scream. Of course I then want to throw my damn phone because suddenly it seems everyone is in cahoots to shorten my lifespan. Then there is the snapping on the phone to my mother where I seem to hate everyone. After that there is the people pleaser where I apologize to the point of masochism, and the psychotic overachiever who says "yes" to everything. Then I wonder why I feel like I am drowning.
The other day I was talking to an old friend of mine and talked about life then and now. Despite the craziness my life has become as of late, I realized something. When I was younger, hitting the mics and hoping every day and night things would start to happen, things are finally happening. I used to look at people who had big projects on the burner and would say to myself, "Someday, that is going to be me." Well guess what, it is finally me. I would pass newsstands and see magazines hoping to be in them someday. Well I was in the TV Guide already, and whenever I pass a magazine stand I see someone I have worked with or know. The other day I was in a cab and on taxi TV was Jane Pratt. I was on xoJane. Then I saw Arianna Huffington on the front of the Learning Annex. I have written for the Huffington Post!!!!! And then I walked past The Today Show and saw the people. I was on there. As a kid I was an on camera host in Pittsburgh, now I am doing that in NYC. I also wrote articles and won writing awards, now my book is available. Maybe I wasn't at the VMAs but Britney Spears plugged my book. My book was also on the shelf next to Juno Diaz who won a MacArthur Award and Ophira Eisenberg who just sold a film. I can do these things too.
I used to dream of these things all the time. They seemed like they would never happen. And now they are finally happening. I am turning into that person, that "star" if you will that I have always wanted to be.
The other day I answered fifty fan letters I never realized I got. At first I cried about disappointing my fans, now I realize I am grateful and blessed to have them. As a kid, I used to dream about the concept of fans from everywhere. Now it is starting to happen. This is awesome. Sunday I woke up to two fan letters. I am on TV a bunch in Europe.
Yes, my work schedule is heating up. But on the flipside, I really work for some wonderful people who believe in me and have my back. Not only are they bosses, but they are friends. That is why for as crazy as they make me sometimes, I know they do it because they want to see my best work and want me to use my full potential. That is why not only don't I mind breaking my back for them, but it is an honor and a pleasure. Not to mention they value me not only as an employee but as a person.
Yes, my mother is currently coordinating my book signing. Yes, she calls me in the morning when only God is probably up. But she is the best press person ever. My mom doesn't sleep and I am blessed to have her. End of story.
Of course there is my assistant Masimo (Yes I have an assistant). While I am getting used to this, he is always on it. I hadn't called him this week because the annoying feminist part of me is used to doing things on her own. He called yesterday and asked, "Are you okay?"
My boss at ITTV told me that I couldn't slack off on facebook. My fans needed me.
My boss at the singing telegram company told me I had to stop apologizing.
My mother told me to start taking my vitamins.
The other day I got a letter from a young woman who wants to be an actress. She told me how I inspired her to follow her dreams and how she looks up to me. I remember this letter came in the fifty I didn't know I had. I also got another fan letter from a young woman who was bullied. Another who had escaped an abusive boyfriend.
I remember having those dreams, growing up. Everyone told me they were foolish. I used to watch the television, knowing those people started foolish dreams too. I read about those fools as well.
I was that overweight, bullied kid who didn't have a TV. Now I have been on many of the channels I could not watch growing up. While I am not where I want to be quite yet, if I keep moving and grooving I will get there.
I dated that psycho who tried to get me to abandon my hopes and dreams. Not only did I dump him but found myself again.
Kids look up to me now. It's my responsibility to show them it's going to be okay. It's my responsibility to let them know that you should reach for the stars and settle for nothing less. It's my responsibility to let them know that for as crazy as life gets, it does get better.
No matter how tired I feel, no matter how overwhelmed I get....
It's my responsibility to remain positive.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.comwww.twitter.c...
Last week I was feeling crunched. When I feel crunched I start snapping at people. From the fat woman who doesn't walk fast enough to to the idiot with the baby carriage to the gaggle of kids talking too loud on the train I want to scream. Of course I then want to throw my damn phone because suddenly it seems everyone is in cahoots to shorten my lifespan. Then there is the snapping on the phone to my mother where I seem to hate everyone. After that there is the people pleaser where I apologize to the point of masochism, and the psychotic overachiever who says "yes" to everything. Then I wonder why I feel like I am drowning.
The other day I was talking to an old friend of mine and talked about life then and now. Despite the craziness my life has become as of late, I realized something. When I was younger, hitting the mics and hoping every day and night things would start to happen, things are finally happening. I used to look at people who had big projects on the burner and would say to myself, "Someday, that is going to be me." Well guess what, it is finally me. I would pass newsstands and see magazines hoping to be in them someday. Well I was in the TV Guide already, and whenever I pass a magazine stand I see someone I have worked with or know. The other day I was in a cab and on taxi TV was Jane Pratt. I was on xoJane. Then I saw Arianna Huffington on the front of the Learning Annex. I have written for the Huffington Post!!!!! And then I walked past The Today Show and saw the people. I was on there. As a kid I was an on camera host in Pittsburgh, now I am doing that in NYC. I also wrote articles and won writing awards, now my book is available. Maybe I wasn't at the VMAs but Britney Spears plugged my book. My book was also on the shelf next to Juno Diaz who won a MacArthur Award and Ophira Eisenberg who just sold a film. I can do these things too.
I used to dream of these things all the time. They seemed like they would never happen. And now they are finally happening. I am turning into that person, that "star" if you will that I have always wanted to be.
The other day I answered fifty fan letters I never realized I got. At first I cried about disappointing my fans, now I realize I am grateful and blessed to have them. As a kid, I used to dream about the concept of fans from everywhere. Now it is starting to happen. This is awesome. Sunday I woke up to two fan letters. I am on TV a bunch in Europe.
Yes, my work schedule is heating up. But on the flipside, I really work for some wonderful people who believe in me and have my back. Not only are they bosses, but they are friends. That is why for as crazy as they make me sometimes, I know they do it because they want to see my best work and want me to use my full potential. That is why not only don't I mind breaking my back for them, but it is an honor and a pleasure. Not to mention they value me not only as an employee but as a person.
Yes, my mother is currently coordinating my book signing. Yes, she calls me in the morning when only God is probably up. But she is the best press person ever. My mom doesn't sleep and I am blessed to have her. End of story.
Of course there is my assistant Masimo (Yes I have an assistant). While I am getting used to this, he is always on it. I hadn't called him this week because the annoying feminist part of me is used to doing things on her own. He called yesterday and asked, "Are you okay?"
My boss at ITTV told me that I couldn't slack off on facebook. My fans needed me.
My boss at the singing telegram company told me I had to stop apologizing.
My mother told me to start taking my vitamins.
The other day I got a letter from a young woman who wants to be an actress. She told me how I inspired her to follow her dreams and how she looks up to me. I remember this letter came in the fifty I didn't know I had. I also got another fan letter from a young woman who was bullied. Another who had escaped an abusive boyfriend.
I remember having those dreams, growing up. Everyone told me they were foolish. I used to watch the television, knowing those people started foolish dreams too. I read about those fools as well.
I was that overweight, bullied kid who didn't have a TV. Now I have been on many of the channels I could not watch growing up. While I am not where I want to be quite yet, if I keep moving and grooving I will get there.
I dated that psycho who tried to get me to abandon my hopes and dreams. Not only did I dump him but found myself again.
Kids look up to me now. It's my responsibility to show them it's going to be okay. It's my responsibility to let them know that you should reach for the stars and settle for nothing less. It's my responsibility to let them know that for as crazy as life gets, it does get better.
No matter how tired I feel, no matter how overwhelmed I get....
It's my responsibility to remain positive.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.comwww.twitter.c...
August 23, 2013
Steaming Naked
The other day I was at the pool. I had gone for a swim and entered the sauna. Women go in there naked all the time. I know. My first few times in there I went in with a suit on. Recently I have bitten the bullet and gone in naked. Granted, I am not shy. But still, I am naked.
I know there are some women who pose naked and have sex with large numbers of people on screen for money. How do they do it? I mean, granted, if they saw some of the people buying these videos and magazines they would probably staple their clothes onto their bodies. Not to mention the camera does not lie. If there is cellulite, a fat spot, or an ugly scar you are doneski.
I have been in the sauna a bunch of times and saw some of these chicks who ditched their clothes. Nothing wrong with being confident but knowing some of them in real time, I just know them a little better. For someone like me the idea of getting naked in the sauna is strange cause of the way I was raised. It's the Catholic I think. You cover that shit up. In church you wear a jacket and in the sauna you keep your swim suit on.
These days I get fan mail from men wanting to marry me. It's bizarre because if you knew me growing up it was much different. There were the pimples, braces, and weight problem at once. Yes, I almost have a six pack now but it's weird. I can't wrap my mind around some of the crazy things male fans say to me. In school my friends were books and words. As an adult my friends are puppets. Women like me don't steam naked. You don't picture us naked. But being on national television changes all of that I suppose. May Wilson on the other hand will get naked for you. She told me.
I am not a big waxer either. Brazilian waxing almost killed me when I was twenty two. Ho Chi Minh's long lost granddaughter-at least I think she was because she was a Vietnamese lady who was a little too happy to see me scream-kept saying, "Do you have a man?" When she kept ripping the hair from my chocha. That was the end of me being sexified. Hell they had to get me drunk to pluck my eyebrows when I was fourteen.
But steaming naked wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I lived. It was alright. I felt good afterwards, too. Maybe I need to stop being such a basketcase about everything. And maybe Ho Chi Min's long lost granddaughter needs to torture me into beautifacation again xoox
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
www.twitter.com/aprilbrucker
I know there are some women who pose naked and have sex with large numbers of people on screen for money. How do they do it? I mean, granted, if they saw some of the people buying these videos and magazines they would probably staple their clothes onto their bodies. Not to mention the camera does not lie. If there is cellulite, a fat spot, or an ugly scar you are doneski.
I have been in the sauna a bunch of times and saw some of these chicks who ditched their clothes. Nothing wrong with being confident but knowing some of them in real time, I just know them a little better. For someone like me the idea of getting naked in the sauna is strange cause of the way I was raised. It's the Catholic I think. You cover that shit up. In church you wear a jacket and in the sauna you keep your swim suit on.
These days I get fan mail from men wanting to marry me. It's bizarre because if you knew me growing up it was much different. There were the pimples, braces, and weight problem at once. Yes, I almost have a six pack now but it's weird. I can't wrap my mind around some of the crazy things male fans say to me. In school my friends were books and words. As an adult my friends are puppets. Women like me don't steam naked. You don't picture us naked. But being on national television changes all of that I suppose. May Wilson on the other hand will get naked for you. She told me.
I am not a big waxer either. Brazilian waxing almost killed me when I was twenty two. Ho Chi Minh's long lost granddaughter-at least I think she was because she was a Vietnamese lady who was a little too happy to see me scream-kept saying, "Do you have a man?" When she kept ripping the hair from my chocha. That was the end of me being sexified. Hell they had to get me drunk to pluck my eyebrows when I was fourteen.
But steaming naked wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. I lived. It was alright. I felt good afterwards, too. Maybe I need to stop being such a basketcase about everything. And maybe Ho Chi Min's long lost granddaughter needs to torture me into beautifacation again xoox
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
www.twitter.com/aprilbrucker
August 22, 2013
Can't Always Win the Trophy
This whole week has been insane. Everyone has been pulling me different ways. Sometimes they both yank my scalp at the same time. Sometimes they yank my arms. I guess this is what happens when you have a career. People expect you to do things. There have been some things that have been hard. Namingly people. Some are overdemanding. Some are children who happen to have adult bodies and want what they want and they want it NOW. Of course there are those who just want me to be two places at once. Or then there are those who value their personal lives more than their careers therefore expecting me to pick up the slack because they choose to get laid. Yes, I will say it. When you choose ass you are an ass.
Some of it is being a perfectionist. I was always a good student. I was always driven. Some of it is being a woman. I am raised to be a people pleaser because of my gender. We all are. Of course being a woman who takes a leadership position I have to be "nice" because then I am labeled a "bitch."
Yesterday I was forced to choose between two engagements. Both were good. One I had booked weeks in advance and the other was a last minute thing. I could have done both but the second moved to CT. I tried. Then the first one was cancelled. I had to see if I could get the second but a coworker of mine had already booked it. It's fine. It wasn't in the cards. Fuck me for trying to make everyone happy. Then I booked another gig, but had to cancel that because they decided the first one was back on. At the end of the day I wanted to fuck everyone with a big, black dildo. Not just any big black dildo, a monster dong. And it was going anal baby!
On top of that I went into my other folder and saw fifty unanswered fan letters. The thing about having fans is that you always want to make them happy because they love you without knowing you which is magic. I love to get to know them and insist on answering every letter personally. I am always so afraid of disappointing my fans too in a way. Everyone is when they first get a following. I always want to put out things that speak to them. And then I wonder, will my fans think I am tall enough? Stupid stuff. That made me feel like a failure.
As I was bemoaning my problems on the sidewalk, a nice construction worker type saw me. I was literally crying there like a mature adult. This construction worker dude saw me and asked me what was wrong. I wanted to tell him to get fucked. I was in no mood to talk to men. That is when he picked up my laundry bag and carried it to the laundromat. The annoying feminist in me shut up and thanked him. I admitted I was overwhelmed at work. That is when he told me he managed fifty one buildings in Manhattan and wished he had a zipper in the center of him because he too, was being pulled every which way.
I felt better for a bit and then melted down like a mature adult to my mother on the phone. My mom put it in perspective. That if I wasnt in NYC I wouldn't have either opportunity. I told my mother how overwhelmed I felt and she said that sometimes when good things happen they can smother us. My mother however, was quick to point out one must always have perspective. That keeps you grateful and keeps you from losing your mind. I have always insisted God speaks through my mother. While she drives me nuts-calling me as early as 6 AM sometimes because she is organizing one of my book signings-she is the woman who gave birth to me so she's allowed.
While I lost the high profile star studded gig I got some great news from LA on a project I am doing. It actually made up for the fact I lost the star studded gig.
The day ended with me crying to a friend of mine over a slice of pizza in the village again. Note, there was a lot of crying yesterday. My friend reminded me that our best is all we can do. She also reminded me about how I always wanted this career and should be grateful I am WORKING. I told my friend I was still Naomi Campbell cellphone throwing pissed. That is when my friend stated, "April, you can't always win the trophy."
My friend was right. I couldn't always win for as much as I wanted to. She also stated that these days, while I was concerned about letting my fans down, I had fans and I needed to concentrate on that. While I am still getting used to the idea of an assistant, I have one of those too.
I have the dreams and the career I have always wanted. Some of it is getting used to the demands of my new life. I know I will be fine. I am a workaholic. I also think deep down it's that fear that I don't deserve anything good. A fear that I won't get what I want while at the same time fearing I will get what I want. And then on top of that excited that things are falling into place after years of planning, paying my dues, poverty, and hard work. And then there is a part of me that wonders if this is real. But it is...
I just think for as crazy as everyone is making me, I have to remember to keep things in perspective, have an attitude of gratitude.
But also that I can't always win the trophy.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com.
Some of it is being a perfectionist. I was always a good student. I was always driven. Some of it is being a woman. I am raised to be a people pleaser because of my gender. We all are. Of course being a woman who takes a leadership position I have to be "nice" because then I am labeled a "bitch."
Yesterday I was forced to choose between two engagements. Both were good. One I had booked weeks in advance and the other was a last minute thing. I could have done both but the second moved to CT. I tried. Then the first one was cancelled. I had to see if I could get the second but a coworker of mine had already booked it. It's fine. It wasn't in the cards. Fuck me for trying to make everyone happy. Then I booked another gig, but had to cancel that because they decided the first one was back on. At the end of the day I wanted to fuck everyone with a big, black dildo. Not just any big black dildo, a monster dong. And it was going anal baby!
On top of that I went into my other folder and saw fifty unanswered fan letters. The thing about having fans is that you always want to make them happy because they love you without knowing you which is magic. I love to get to know them and insist on answering every letter personally. I am always so afraid of disappointing my fans too in a way. Everyone is when they first get a following. I always want to put out things that speak to them. And then I wonder, will my fans think I am tall enough? Stupid stuff. That made me feel like a failure.
As I was bemoaning my problems on the sidewalk, a nice construction worker type saw me. I was literally crying there like a mature adult. This construction worker dude saw me and asked me what was wrong. I wanted to tell him to get fucked. I was in no mood to talk to men. That is when he picked up my laundry bag and carried it to the laundromat. The annoying feminist in me shut up and thanked him. I admitted I was overwhelmed at work. That is when he told me he managed fifty one buildings in Manhattan and wished he had a zipper in the center of him because he too, was being pulled every which way.
I felt better for a bit and then melted down like a mature adult to my mother on the phone. My mom put it in perspective. That if I wasnt in NYC I wouldn't have either opportunity. I told my mother how overwhelmed I felt and she said that sometimes when good things happen they can smother us. My mother however, was quick to point out one must always have perspective. That keeps you grateful and keeps you from losing your mind. I have always insisted God speaks through my mother. While she drives me nuts-calling me as early as 6 AM sometimes because she is organizing one of my book signings-she is the woman who gave birth to me so she's allowed.
While I lost the high profile star studded gig I got some great news from LA on a project I am doing. It actually made up for the fact I lost the star studded gig.
The day ended with me crying to a friend of mine over a slice of pizza in the village again. Note, there was a lot of crying yesterday. My friend reminded me that our best is all we can do. She also reminded me about how I always wanted this career and should be grateful I am WORKING. I told my friend I was still Naomi Campbell cellphone throwing pissed. That is when my friend stated, "April, you can't always win the trophy."
My friend was right. I couldn't always win for as much as I wanted to. She also stated that these days, while I was concerned about letting my fans down, I had fans and I needed to concentrate on that. While I am still getting used to the idea of an assistant, I have one of those too.
I have the dreams and the career I have always wanted. Some of it is getting used to the demands of my new life. I know I will be fine. I am a workaholic. I also think deep down it's that fear that I don't deserve anything good. A fear that I won't get what I want while at the same time fearing I will get what I want. And then on top of that excited that things are falling into place after years of planning, paying my dues, poverty, and hard work. And then there is a part of me that wonders if this is real. But it is...
I just think for as crazy as everyone is making me, I have to remember to keep things in perspective, have an attitude of gratitude.
But also that I can't always win the trophy.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com.
August 18, 2013
Top of the World (The Carpenters)
Sometimes it feels that it is you against the world, like Sysifus rolling the boulder up the hill. It never makes any sense how it happens. I think women have this feeling more than men, although men have it too. For women, it's that we take on too much while we are never enough. At least that is my experience. For me my career is everything. Maybe I place too much importance on something so material. When I wake up in the morning I am on.
This past week I was having a meltdown. I am a personality who has to be in control. Even when I don't want to be I find myself in charge somehow. Some of it is because I am "bright." Some of it is because I am hardworking. As an artist, I am more apt to create my own work anyway. I have been told when I "make it" my career will be on my own terms. This is true. So far it has been. I work very well independently. Some of it is being a middle child. Some of it is being a woman with half a brain in a jungle of sexist male nitwits. Some of it is being this same woman and having no support from my own and being forced to stand on my own. With this independence always comes a feeling of anxious apartness and terminal uniqueness, like I am the only one with my issues and will never fit in.
Tuesday was a rough day. I am currently working on a project with someone that has a personal life, something totally alien and foreign to me. I have my friends but no lover. Anyway, we got into one of the many text wars we had this week over the fact this person's decision to marry someone lovely is getting in the way of a mutual project goal we have. I was speaking to my mom about the crunch I felt. That is when my mom said something wonderful. She said, "Well isn't it nice not to have to work alone?" As we were speaking I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. My mom had a point. While my partner shortens my life span from time to time it could be worse. He makes up for the things I lack. In contrast to the fact I get so fired up I could blow a gasket, he is very live and let live. While he tells me to chill quite a bit which I hate with a passion, it is nice to know that I don't have to make important decisions by myself.
As I felt overworked to the max and panicked because these days I have an assistant and don't know what to do with it, there was a terminal uniqueness that came over me. Not to mention I felt like no rising star ever had my issues and no one ever felt overwhelmed in their creative endeavors. This week I ended up seeing a fellow I knew who was a composer who's musical opened in London. He knows exactly how I feel. He is a reference point in case I need support. We connected because he is open to talk as my friend if I need one. He gets it. Another man I knew in passing was walking back from the close of his Broadway show. He too knows how I feel. Both could identify with wanting to have full control all the time and no one else understanding them at points when it came to their art. Other friends who might not be creative identified with the feelings I had. I am not terminally unique after all. I don't have some growth on my head. Sometimes I just feel like it though.
Of course there was the mean girl issue I had. Sometimes that can make me feel so isolated especially because this individual is so tiring. Needless to say my friends were wonderful. Some of them had suggestions on how to block blocked numbers on my phone. Some of them had experience to share with someone similar. Some had feedback on how not to upset myself and to keep myself safe from an alcoholic, drug addicted stalker. Some even told me to shut the hell up about it.
The beautiful thing about friends and connections is that they remind you that it's not that serious. Even those you meet on the sidewalk. As I was stewing at the world as a whole this week I saw a little girl run by in a Wonder Woman outfit. Suddenly it took me out of the zone where I was tired, angered that people didn't act the way they should, and no one appreciated me. I gave the small girl a high five and we had a laugh. How can you be angry when you see a two year old Wonder Woman? Answer, you can't.
How can you be angry when you see a friend zip by on a City Bike as she is on her way to work? And how can you be angry when you see a picture of her little girl in some play on facebook as she is dancing with another friend. Answer: You can't.
How can you be angry when you see your friend on the way to work and you two shoot the breeze about life? How can you stay in your head where it is dark and lonely?Answer: You can't.
How can you be angry when you go to kickboxing, bust a few punches on a bag, and burst out laughing at the big clownish man in the class? Answer: You can't.
For as big and wide spread as the city is, I know at any given time I can walk down the street and see a friend or make a new one. With any bad day, I can press restart. I can laugh with people who can enjoy my Beyonce moments cause they supported me when I was Lindsay Lohan. Translated: I am not alone unless I have to be.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
This past week I was having a meltdown. I am a personality who has to be in control. Even when I don't want to be I find myself in charge somehow. Some of it is because I am "bright." Some of it is because I am hardworking. As an artist, I am more apt to create my own work anyway. I have been told when I "make it" my career will be on my own terms. This is true. So far it has been. I work very well independently. Some of it is being a middle child. Some of it is being a woman with half a brain in a jungle of sexist male nitwits. Some of it is being this same woman and having no support from my own and being forced to stand on my own. With this independence always comes a feeling of anxious apartness and terminal uniqueness, like I am the only one with my issues and will never fit in.
Tuesday was a rough day. I am currently working on a project with someone that has a personal life, something totally alien and foreign to me. I have my friends but no lover. Anyway, we got into one of the many text wars we had this week over the fact this person's decision to marry someone lovely is getting in the way of a mutual project goal we have. I was speaking to my mom about the crunch I felt. That is when my mom said something wonderful. She said, "Well isn't it nice not to have to work alone?" As we were speaking I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. My mom had a point. While my partner shortens my life span from time to time it could be worse. He makes up for the things I lack. In contrast to the fact I get so fired up I could blow a gasket, he is very live and let live. While he tells me to chill quite a bit which I hate with a passion, it is nice to know that I don't have to make important decisions by myself.
As I felt overworked to the max and panicked because these days I have an assistant and don't know what to do with it, there was a terminal uniqueness that came over me. Not to mention I felt like no rising star ever had my issues and no one ever felt overwhelmed in their creative endeavors. This week I ended up seeing a fellow I knew who was a composer who's musical opened in London. He knows exactly how I feel. He is a reference point in case I need support. We connected because he is open to talk as my friend if I need one. He gets it. Another man I knew in passing was walking back from the close of his Broadway show. He too knows how I feel. Both could identify with wanting to have full control all the time and no one else understanding them at points when it came to their art. Other friends who might not be creative identified with the feelings I had. I am not terminally unique after all. I don't have some growth on my head. Sometimes I just feel like it though.
Of course there was the mean girl issue I had. Sometimes that can make me feel so isolated especially because this individual is so tiring. Needless to say my friends were wonderful. Some of them had suggestions on how to block blocked numbers on my phone. Some of them had experience to share with someone similar. Some had feedback on how not to upset myself and to keep myself safe from an alcoholic, drug addicted stalker. Some even told me to shut the hell up about it.
The beautiful thing about friends and connections is that they remind you that it's not that serious. Even those you meet on the sidewalk. As I was stewing at the world as a whole this week I saw a little girl run by in a Wonder Woman outfit. Suddenly it took me out of the zone where I was tired, angered that people didn't act the way they should, and no one appreciated me. I gave the small girl a high five and we had a laugh. How can you be angry when you see a two year old Wonder Woman? Answer, you can't.
How can you be angry when you see a friend zip by on a City Bike as she is on her way to work? And how can you be angry when you see a picture of her little girl in some play on facebook as she is dancing with another friend. Answer: You can't.
How can you be angry when you see your friend on the way to work and you two shoot the breeze about life? How can you stay in your head where it is dark and lonely?Answer: You can't.
How can you be angry when you go to kickboxing, bust a few punches on a bag, and burst out laughing at the big clownish man in the class? Answer: You can't.
For as big and wide spread as the city is, I know at any given time I can walk down the street and see a friend or make a new one. With any bad day, I can press restart. I can laugh with people who can enjoy my Beyonce moments cause they supported me when I was Lindsay Lohan. Translated: I am not alone unless I have to be.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
August 17, 2013
Over Tired
I am having the kind of day that is low key. I need to have this kind of day every once in a while in order to keep my sanity. Granted, the world doesn't give a rat's ass about my sanity but that's okay.
This week has been a long one. I don't know what is worse, when people don't do that they are supposed to do or are way more immersed into their personal lives. For as much as people dream they don't give a rat's ass about their careers. I must be the only person who cares about making this happen. Oops. Things aren't just handed to me. I have to make it happen. As I said, I have a sense of urgency most people don't. I don't have a boyfriend to coddle me.
I feel like sometimes I work hard and people just want to suck the life blood out of me. Yeah woman, you go do that while I go fuck all the bitches in the land. Or sorry April, I have to spend time with the worthless lump I call a boyfriend/husband. Could you pick up the slack for me? I won't say thank you. I won't do what I am supposed to. Instead I will hate on you, rip you up, and then you will have to listen to everyone else complain about me. Fuck you and your fucking relationships. When you have nothing because you have love, don't whine to me when your dreams aren't coming true. You chose to chase ass and now here you are getting fucked.
As for the haterade being tossed my way, the ugly Port Authority Drag Queen is starting to calm down. It's what she looks like. I hate her. People tell me to pray for her but I am not there yet. I also have a plan of action. If she crosses the line again I am going to the police. I hate having to get the law involved but it is what I have to do. I also am getting an app on my phone to block unwanted calls. It will make my life easier and I will no longer have to have a relationship that is functional with a stalker.
My life really isn't that bad. I am just overtired. I have a lot to look forward to. My new on camera hosting gig at ITTV is awesome and I love my cohosts. I am working a lot which means rent won't be a problem. My audiobook is getting ready to go on itunes. Projects are on the stove. Life is good.
I just wish people had their priorities straight.
Sigh, I think I need to go to the pool for a swim.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.com
This week has been a long one. I don't know what is worse, when people don't do that they are supposed to do or are way more immersed into their personal lives. For as much as people dream they don't give a rat's ass about their careers. I must be the only person who cares about making this happen. Oops. Things aren't just handed to me. I have to make it happen. As I said, I have a sense of urgency most people don't. I don't have a boyfriend to coddle me.
I feel like sometimes I work hard and people just want to suck the life blood out of me. Yeah woman, you go do that while I go fuck all the bitches in the land. Or sorry April, I have to spend time with the worthless lump I call a boyfriend/husband. Could you pick up the slack for me? I won't say thank you. I won't do what I am supposed to. Instead I will hate on you, rip you up, and then you will have to listen to everyone else complain about me. Fuck you and your fucking relationships. When you have nothing because you have love, don't whine to me when your dreams aren't coming true. You chose to chase ass and now here you are getting fucked.
As for the haterade being tossed my way, the ugly Port Authority Drag Queen is starting to calm down. It's what she looks like. I hate her. People tell me to pray for her but I am not there yet. I also have a plan of action. If she crosses the line again I am going to the police. I hate having to get the law involved but it is what I have to do. I also am getting an app on my phone to block unwanted calls. It will make my life easier and I will no longer have to have a relationship that is functional with a stalker.
My life really isn't that bad. I am just overtired. I have a lot to look forward to. My new on camera hosting gig at ITTV is awesome and I love my cohosts. I am working a lot which means rent won't be a problem. My audiobook is getting ready to go on itunes. Projects are on the stove. Life is good.
I just wish people had their priorities straight.
Sigh, I think I need to go to the pool for a swim.
LoveAprilI Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girlwww.aprilbrucker.com
August 16, 2013
Shit Sisters Talk About
This morning my baby sister, Dr. Skipper, messages me. Lets just say this is another golden convo
Skipper: Hi April, I'm working nights and about to go to bed. Just know I am thinking of you, have a great day.
Me: Aww thank you.
Skipper: I know we are home on different weekends and I am sorry because I know you wanted to be home on the same weekend. We'll have to catch up by phone.
Me: I would like that.
Skipper: I am sending you this message while pooping. You are not allowed to use this text stream on your blog.
Me: LOL, I didn't need to know that but thank you. And your text are golden, it is going in the blog.
Skipper: I thought you would appreciate this moment of intimacy. Anyway, have been reading your blog. Seems like you are doing a lot of exciting things. So proud of you.
Me: I am proud of you too. So proud this is going in my blog.
Skipper: Oh my!!!!
Me: What can I say, your exchanges are golden.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
Skipper: Hi April, I'm working nights and about to go to bed. Just know I am thinking of you, have a great day.
Me: Aww thank you.
Skipper: I know we are home on different weekends and I am sorry because I know you wanted to be home on the same weekend. We'll have to catch up by phone.
Me: I would like that.
Skipper: I am sending you this message while pooping. You are not allowed to use this text stream on your blog.
Me: LOL, I didn't need to know that but thank you. And your text are golden, it is going in the blog.
Skipper: I thought you would appreciate this moment of intimacy. Anyway, have been reading your blog. Seems like you are doing a lot of exciting things. So proud of you.
Me: I am proud of you too. So proud this is going in my blog.
Skipper: Oh my!!!!
Me: What can I say, your exchanges are golden.
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
