April E. Brucker's Blog, page 8
March 7, 2018
Crushing It........Kind Of
Life has been a little nuts lately. For one my schedule is filled. I am currently in a master's program for creative writing. It's one where I do a ton of field work and is ideal for the independent student. Yet it is a lot of work, a lot. I never disliked school and would have probably pursued a master's earlier, but I completed high school and was taking college classes as I was doing high school. And because my undergrad was so expensive, I completed it in three years. My parents were generous enough to fit the bill, and I was generous to complete it ahead of schedule, plus I entered college with college credit already.
Needless to say, as I went to school both winters and summers and never stopped, when college ended I could not take one more acting class let alone write one more paper. I would dip my foot into a graduate writing seminar or a master acting class, but the road was my first love and my brain needed a rest. I had an ex boyfriend once tell me that, "Your brain works overtime, and this is why you do so many foolish things. You get tired of thinking."
Harsh, yes. Also true.
Now I am back in school and love the program I am in. I am also paying for it myself. I am rediscovering how I love school actually. Currently I am on the literary magazine and spent the past month judging a short story competition. While I expected the good, the bad, and the ugly we got some amazing entries. Instead of the allotted six books required by the mentee group, I have chosen to read seven. My program mentor told me I could read more than the designated number and here I am doing it. As a rule, my annotations and writing packet are turned in early.
My mom called me having her yearly meltdown about my life. It happens around this time each year so she is directly on schedule. According to her, I wasn't greeting my new program with enough "gusto." Meanwhile, if I had anymore gusto I would burst into flames.
I am also rededicating myself to my acting. Each Monday night I take a comedy acting class, and I adore my teacher. More often than not I bring in work I wrote and he critiques me. He performs and writes his own work and thinks traditional theatre people are stuffy snobs. I have been with him for several months and want to continue.
Coming back to acting class was difficult as I loved my acting teachers in college, but felt a tad burned out. I was also very hard on myself as a youngster, and beat myself with a hammer to the point where it made progress difficult. Coming back was difficult as I was prone to beating myself up again, and I discovered it after one class where I was close to tears. The truth is, as my acting teacher explained, I am among friends in class. It is safe to fail in class. Things do not have to be brought to completion in class.
I also realize I am hard on myself. My mentor in my writing program called me judgmental in my work. I am judgmental when it comes to others because I hold myself to insane standards. There are days I leave the house wearing coffee wondering why the fuck I got out of bed. Only to realize everyone has those days. So yes, I am beating myself up less, or at least trying to.
In between, I am also starting a voiceover class every Tuesday night. I have always wanted to do this and believe I am a natural, and a casting director a few years ago told me to take a class and make a reel. He was a nice guy actually. Too bad I was too busy beating myself up to take his feedback. Now I will be in class every Monday and Tuesday night. I look forward to the class as it was a generous gift from a friend who knew I wanted to do this for myself for a long time, and this friend surprised me with the class as a present. While it is one more thing in my plate, it is also a welcome thing as this was a gift out of love.
Each Friday I am also rehearsing with my pianist. We are mounting The Lady and President Tramp in May. There have been rewrites to the show and I am sure there will be more. Being in a graduate program makes me not afraid to revise. I have a teacher in my program who says when you refuse to revise or get writer's block, it is fear. Never have truer words been spoken.
Saturdays are spent rehearsing The Crucifixion. I play Simon Peter, the one who helps Jesus with the cross and accidentally sells him out. He later flees because of his legal problems. Later Peter writes the story and builds the first church, only to be crucified upside down. The Easter story is pretty intense really. In this retelling, we have a Jesus who is a woman of color and a Jesus who is a break dancing black man. We also have a Judas who is a black man who sings country. And then you have Simon Peter, who is a tad queer. It all works and is the vision Family Founder Marvin Camillo would have loved.
I am singing in this show which is magical and strange, because I sing for my day job so this isn't a stretch. Granted, my voice is not as good as the young woman who plays Mary, a Broadway style singer who will likely be there someday, or Judas, who looks like Boys 2 Men but when he sings you hear his idol, Randy Travis. It's also an ensemble show that isn't comedy, which I haven't done since college either. We have performances Good Friday and Holy Saturday. I look forward to the opportunity for artistic and spiritual growth.
I am also in a comedy staged reading next week. I haven't done a staged reading in years which has me excited, and I am making big choices. While the opportunity isn't paid, it's opening doors and this company might also let me have readings of my own work, which would be exceedingly exciting.
On top of that I am still performing regularly, and working on becoming a headliner. Am I crazy? Maybe. But that's the world we live in. More on those developments later.
Monday night I realized all I had taken on, and knew this was going to be Herculean. Then I went to a show to perform and there was an improv jam that was ending. I hadn't done improv in years, so when they called me up I was shocked. But I just went with it and crushed it. If I died at that moment I would have been happy because I was having so much fun and loved what I was doing in that moment.
But then it could suck because I died.
Yet I am taking risks, going for it. Maybe I feel crushed, but when you feel crushed perhaps you are doing better than you think you are. If you feel like you are crushing it all the time, you probably aren't.
So I suppose I am crushing it.......Kind Of......
Now to get back to my reading for school
Buy My Shit
Needless to say, as I went to school both winters and summers and never stopped, when college ended I could not take one more acting class let alone write one more paper. I would dip my foot into a graduate writing seminar or a master acting class, but the road was my first love and my brain needed a rest. I had an ex boyfriend once tell me that, "Your brain works overtime, and this is why you do so many foolish things. You get tired of thinking."
Harsh, yes. Also true.
Now I am back in school and love the program I am in. I am also paying for it myself. I am rediscovering how I love school actually. Currently I am on the literary magazine and spent the past month judging a short story competition. While I expected the good, the bad, and the ugly we got some amazing entries. Instead of the allotted six books required by the mentee group, I have chosen to read seven. My program mentor told me I could read more than the designated number and here I am doing it. As a rule, my annotations and writing packet are turned in early.
My mom called me having her yearly meltdown about my life. It happens around this time each year so she is directly on schedule. According to her, I wasn't greeting my new program with enough "gusto." Meanwhile, if I had anymore gusto I would burst into flames.
I am also rededicating myself to my acting. Each Monday night I take a comedy acting class, and I adore my teacher. More often than not I bring in work I wrote and he critiques me. He performs and writes his own work and thinks traditional theatre people are stuffy snobs. I have been with him for several months and want to continue.
Coming back to acting class was difficult as I loved my acting teachers in college, but felt a tad burned out. I was also very hard on myself as a youngster, and beat myself with a hammer to the point where it made progress difficult. Coming back was difficult as I was prone to beating myself up again, and I discovered it after one class where I was close to tears. The truth is, as my acting teacher explained, I am among friends in class. It is safe to fail in class. Things do not have to be brought to completion in class.
I also realize I am hard on myself. My mentor in my writing program called me judgmental in my work. I am judgmental when it comes to others because I hold myself to insane standards. There are days I leave the house wearing coffee wondering why the fuck I got out of bed. Only to realize everyone has those days. So yes, I am beating myself up less, or at least trying to.
In between, I am also starting a voiceover class every Tuesday night. I have always wanted to do this and believe I am a natural, and a casting director a few years ago told me to take a class and make a reel. He was a nice guy actually. Too bad I was too busy beating myself up to take his feedback. Now I will be in class every Monday and Tuesday night. I look forward to the class as it was a generous gift from a friend who knew I wanted to do this for myself for a long time, and this friend surprised me with the class as a present. While it is one more thing in my plate, it is also a welcome thing as this was a gift out of love.
Each Friday I am also rehearsing with my pianist. We are mounting The Lady and President Tramp in May. There have been rewrites to the show and I am sure there will be more. Being in a graduate program makes me not afraid to revise. I have a teacher in my program who says when you refuse to revise or get writer's block, it is fear. Never have truer words been spoken.
Saturdays are spent rehearsing The Crucifixion. I play Simon Peter, the one who helps Jesus with the cross and accidentally sells him out. He later flees because of his legal problems. Later Peter writes the story and builds the first church, only to be crucified upside down. The Easter story is pretty intense really. In this retelling, we have a Jesus who is a woman of color and a Jesus who is a break dancing black man. We also have a Judas who is a black man who sings country. And then you have Simon Peter, who is a tad queer. It all works and is the vision Family Founder Marvin Camillo would have loved.
I am singing in this show which is magical and strange, because I sing for my day job so this isn't a stretch. Granted, my voice is not as good as the young woman who plays Mary, a Broadway style singer who will likely be there someday, or Judas, who looks like Boys 2 Men but when he sings you hear his idol, Randy Travis. It's also an ensemble show that isn't comedy, which I haven't done since college either. We have performances Good Friday and Holy Saturday. I look forward to the opportunity for artistic and spiritual growth.
I am also in a comedy staged reading next week. I haven't done a staged reading in years which has me excited, and I am making big choices. While the opportunity isn't paid, it's opening doors and this company might also let me have readings of my own work, which would be exceedingly exciting.
On top of that I am still performing regularly, and working on becoming a headliner. Am I crazy? Maybe. But that's the world we live in. More on those developments later.
Monday night I realized all I had taken on, and knew this was going to be Herculean. Then I went to a show to perform and there was an improv jam that was ending. I hadn't done improv in years, so when they called me up I was shocked. But I just went with it and crushed it. If I died at that moment I would have been happy because I was having so much fun and loved what I was doing in that moment.
But then it could suck because I died.
Yet I am taking risks, going for it. Maybe I feel crushed, but when you feel crushed perhaps you are doing better than you think you are. If you feel like you are crushing it all the time, you probably aren't.
So I suppose I am crushing it.......Kind Of......
Now to get back to my reading for school
Buy My Shit
February 14, 2018
Love Is In the Air (John Paul Young)
A little over two years ago, I ended a relationship with a partner who was mentally ill. When it dissolved into chaos as these things typically do with a person who refuses to seek treatment and self-medicates with narcotics, I found myself feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.
Combat related PTSD is a hard nut to wrap. Civilian shinks have a hard time treating it let alone understanding it. The VA can help them, but it's badly handled and backed up. Not to mention lots of times vets hate hospitals and like many trauma sufferers, prefer being homeless because being homeless means not having to face their triggers.
My support system was amazing. I went from wanting to smash everything in the room to crying all the time over his loss. A bad relationship is like a limb with gangrene. You know you need to lose it to live, but you want to fight to keep your arm even if there are maggots crawling out of it. One friend in particular said it best, "April, he's your knight of shining armor in a suit of armor that he stole!"
When my ex left, things initially sucked. They always do. But then I discovered a renewed love for comedy. I was studying joke writing like I never had before. I was pounding open mics like a young comedian who had never been on TV, and if she was she was standing on her friend's TV set. I was watching films of old master ventriloquists. I also developed Donald J. Tramp.
I also began to explore life on my own. This was scary but this also meant not being chained to a rock. While a partner can be a rock in a good way they can also weigh you down. This meant going to the RNC as a spokes person for an anti-Trump group, being credentialed press at the debates, and work shopping a one woman show. This also meant mastering releasing a body positive book, a line of merchandise, mastering full body puppetry, and applying for my dream MFA program in creative writing.
I would have been doing none of these things if I was still with my ex. Instead, I would have been a full time caretaker to a partner who refused to seek treatment. I would have continued to justify my codependency at the sake of my own self-preservation and sanity. I would have been "that woman."
I have a great support system around me. Whether it's my mom who gives my phone number and email address to strangers bragging about my status as a celestial being. Or my two straight male housemates who are dedicated to their art and families. Or my wonderful peeps from my Monday night acting class who love comedy as much as I do. Or my friend's from the stand-up world who agonize over every punchline. Or my friends from ACT UP who are as passionate about queer politics and queer identity as I am. Or my friends from my haunted house who I miss dearly and chat with on facebook and instagram. Or my friends from my master's program who are passionate about social justice and the written word like I am. Or my friends who remembered to say Happy Valentine's Day. Or my friends who laugh at my jokes. Or my one friend in particular who sent me flowers and listens to all my dreams no matter how stupid they are. Or my boss who lets me chase my dreams and pays me and hasn't fired me yet. Or my favorite Marine or favorite Mass-hole or favorite Frank Logan or favorite anyone and everyone.
I don't need a label to define me in any way, shape, or form. Whether it is this, that, or the other. I don't have to label the way I live or love as long as I am safe and happy.
I wish the same for you, too.
Combat related PTSD is a hard nut to wrap. Civilian shinks have a hard time treating it let alone understanding it. The VA can help them, but it's badly handled and backed up. Not to mention lots of times vets hate hospitals and like many trauma sufferers, prefer being homeless because being homeless means not having to face their triggers.
My support system was amazing. I went from wanting to smash everything in the room to crying all the time over his loss. A bad relationship is like a limb with gangrene. You know you need to lose it to live, but you want to fight to keep your arm even if there are maggots crawling out of it. One friend in particular said it best, "April, he's your knight of shining armor in a suit of armor that he stole!"
When my ex left, things initially sucked. They always do. But then I discovered a renewed love for comedy. I was studying joke writing like I never had before. I was pounding open mics like a young comedian who had never been on TV, and if she was she was standing on her friend's TV set. I was watching films of old master ventriloquists. I also developed Donald J. Tramp.
I also began to explore life on my own. This was scary but this also meant not being chained to a rock. While a partner can be a rock in a good way they can also weigh you down. This meant going to the RNC as a spokes person for an anti-Trump group, being credentialed press at the debates, and work shopping a one woman show. This also meant mastering releasing a body positive book, a line of merchandise, mastering full body puppetry, and applying for my dream MFA program in creative writing.
I would have been doing none of these things if I was still with my ex. Instead, I would have been a full time caretaker to a partner who refused to seek treatment. I would have continued to justify my codependency at the sake of my own self-preservation and sanity. I would have been "that woman."
I have a great support system around me. Whether it's my mom who gives my phone number and email address to strangers bragging about my status as a celestial being. Or my two straight male housemates who are dedicated to their art and families. Or my wonderful peeps from my Monday night acting class who love comedy as much as I do. Or my friend's from the stand-up world who agonize over every punchline. Or my friends from ACT UP who are as passionate about queer politics and queer identity as I am. Or my friends from my haunted house who I miss dearly and chat with on facebook and instagram. Or my friends from my master's program who are passionate about social justice and the written word like I am. Or my friends who remembered to say Happy Valentine's Day. Or my friends who laugh at my jokes. Or my one friend in particular who sent me flowers and listens to all my dreams no matter how stupid they are. Or my boss who lets me chase my dreams and pays me and hasn't fired me yet. Or my favorite Marine or favorite Mass-hole or favorite Frank Logan or favorite anyone and everyone.
I don't need a label to define me in any way, shape, or form. Whether it is this, that, or the other. I don't have to label the way I live or love as long as I am safe and happy.
I wish the same for you, too.
February 12, 2018
Naked Stand-Up
Hey guys, I have a new act. It's shattering the glass ceiling by proving we are all beautiful. It's preaching sex positive feminism. It's returning to my natural roots. I mean really natural.
I am performing stand-up comedy naked!
Yes, I am doing my act in the buff. Are you laughing at my punchline or my waistline? You decide.
I am performing stand-up comedy naked!
Yes, I am doing my act in the buff. Are you laughing at my punchline or my waistline? You decide.
February 5, 2018
Being Believed
It's the advent of the #MeToo movement. I am both proud and somewhat ashamed to say I fill the hashtag. I have earned the hashtag many times, more than I would care to admit not only to others, but to myself. I spoke about my experience to let others know that they weren't alone, but also to let others know that it didn't make them a victim to speak.
When it happens you always feel like a victim. There is part of your brain that tells you that you are overreacting. When I revealed to female friends an incident that happened when I was younger, one where a group of drunken white boys accosted me and I kicked off my shoes in order to get away, I wasn't believed. This female friend told me it was my "bad decisions" and that "you always put yourself there."
Not only did I stop being friends with her, but it made me feel like I was alone. In my experience, the most awful group when it comes to women is not men, but women themselves. Trans women, for instance, are more likely to be raped and assaulted. They are less likely to report. Among female activists, many do not want to address domestic violence and how cops treat trans women as a joke. Because of this they suffer. It's not a choice to transition. The only thing trans women are choosing is less rights and more oppression.
This is why the TERFs like Rose McGowan turn my stomach and make me ill. She not only invalidated that poor trans woman who challenged her, but then she went on a self-centered, cisgendered tirade, therefore closing the discussion for all victims.
I have walked alone as a victim. I have not been believed. There were people who didn't believe me when I said an ex of mine choked me. There were people who didn't believe me when I said a mentally ill partner was using his family members to stalk me. I would never shut anyone or any victim out of the discussion.
That being said, I have known women who unfortunately lie. The former girlfriend of a mutual friend, a drug addict who was later diagnosed with borderline, claimed he raped her. As the bandwagon formed, I had my doubts as she was known to lie. Later, she admitted she made the story up. While she is more the exception than the rule, there are these instances. These idiots who do this make it harder for the victims and less likely to believe. These liars are as bad as the rapists themselves.
Reading about Aaron Glaser this morning made my stomach turn. I had only met him once. He made my skin crawl. I didn't know why but I wanted to get away from him. When I read about what he did I was not shocked. Steve Crowder defended him which only made me believe the victims more. Aaron Glaser approached the crisis as an entitled whiner. I was part of the internet pitchfork mob bombarding his facebook wall.
Around this time, I revealed to a friend who I have become quite close with in the last two years. An older male, I didn't know how he would react but he is super easy to talk to. As I was waiting for his response, he gave me one I didn't expect. He said, "You went to New York to fulfill your dreams. You are still there. You're a survivor. Give yourself some credit."
He's right. I am a survivor. Some days are better than others but I am.
I get back at these predatory men not only by surviving, but by thriving. I have a career in comedy, laden with ups and downs. I have written two books and am working on a third. I released a calendar and line of merchandise. My one woman show is gearing to do a run in NYC, and I have started a master's program in writing. Life is not easy sometimes, but we all have a strike or two against us and we have to work with it.
Every time I think of the predatory men that hurt me, I use that energy to further myself because success is the best revenge. They will always be predators but it doesn't mean I have to be prey. I am not waiting for an apology I might never get, so instead I treat others the way I want to be treated, but treat myself that way, too.
As for Aaron Glaser, that NY Post piece was the funniest damn joke he has ever written in his entire career. Who believes that bullshit farce, #NOTME!
And one last thing, years ago I would have cried at the photo below because I was filled with such self-hate because of the damage predatory males did to me. Now I take them with style, not because I am acting out but because I want to and it's fun. So to all those doubters and predators, eat my dust, shitheads!
buy my shiznit
When it happens you always feel like a victim. There is part of your brain that tells you that you are overreacting. When I revealed to female friends an incident that happened when I was younger, one where a group of drunken white boys accosted me and I kicked off my shoes in order to get away, I wasn't believed. This female friend told me it was my "bad decisions" and that "you always put yourself there."
Not only did I stop being friends with her, but it made me feel like I was alone. In my experience, the most awful group when it comes to women is not men, but women themselves. Trans women, for instance, are more likely to be raped and assaulted. They are less likely to report. Among female activists, many do not want to address domestic violence and how cops treat trans women as a joke. Because of this they suffer. It's not a choice to transition. The only thing trans women are choosing is less rights and more oppression.
This is why the TERFs like Rose McGowan turn my stomach and make me ill. She not only invalidated that poor trans woman who challenged her, but then she went on a self-centered, cisgendered tirade, therefore closing the discussion for all victims.
I have walked alone as a victim. I have not been believed. There were people who didn't believe me when I said an ex of mine choked me. There were people who didn't believe me when I said a mentally ill partner was using his family members to stalk me. I would never shut anyone or any victim out of the discussion.
That being said, I have known women who unfortunately lie. The former girlfriend of a mutual friend, a drug addict who was later diagnosed with borderline, claimed he raped her. As the bandwagon formed, I had my doubts as she was known to lie. Later, she admitted she made the story up. While she is more the exception than the rule, there are these instances. These idiots who do this make it harder for the victims and less likely to believe. These liars are as bad as the rapists themselves.
Reading about Aaron Glaser this morning made my stomach turn. I had only met him once. He made my skin crawl. I didn't know why but I wanted to get away from him. When I read about what he did I was not shocked. Steve Crowder defended him which only made me believe the victims more. Aaron Glaser approached the crisis as an entitled whiner. I was part of the internet pitchfork mob bombarding his facebook wall.
Around this time, I revealed to a friend who I have become quite close with in the last two years. An older male, I didn't know how he would react but he is super easy to talk to. As I was waiting for his response, he gave me one I didn't expect. He said, "You went to New York to fulfill your dreams. You are still there. You're a survivor. Give yourself some credit."
He's right. I am a survivor. Some days are better than others but I am.
I get back at these predatory men not only by surviving, but by thriving. I have a career in comedy, laden with ups and downs. I have written two books and am working on a third. I released a calendar and line of merchandise. My one woman show is gearing to do a run in NYC, and I have started a master's program in writing. Life is not easy sometimes, but we all have a strike or two against us and we have to work with it.
Every time I think of the predatory men that hurt me, I use that energy to further myself because success is the best revenge. They will always be predators but it doesn't mean I have to be prey. I am not waiting for an apology I might never get, so instead I treat others the way I want to be treated, but treat myself that way, too.
As for Aaron Glaser, that NY Post piece was the funniest damn joke he has ever written in his entire career. Who believes that bullshit farce, #NOTME!
And one last thing, years ago I would have cried at the photo below because I was filled with such self-hate because of the damage predatory males did to me. Now I take them with style, not because I am acting out but because I want to and it's fun. So to all those doubters and predators, eat my dust, shitheads!
buy my shiznitJanuary 29, 2018
Love
It never amazes me how much love I have in my life on a regular basis. Sometimes, I am so immersed in my bullshit I forgot how much love there truly is in my life.
There is my family. Sure, they are all nuts but they would take a bullet for me.
There are my friends who's creativity, talent, and generosity never cease to amaze me.
There are my housemates, who, while both crazy, are always my listening ears.
There is my boss who calls me at all hours for deliveries, but legit cares about everyone who orders a telegram and everyone who works for him.
There are my fellows in my MFA program, who are studious about the written word and equally as passionate about social justice.
There are my fellows in the comedy world, OCD about every word and every punchline, but excited like children in a toy store each time they step onstage.
There are my fellows in the acting world, anal about craft, but because they care so much about the wordsmith who wrote the script and honoring them.
There are my fellows in the activism world, who sometimes can be obnoxious but really truly want to make the world a better and more beautiful place.
There are those who mentor me in my career, who never let me get off easy, often too honest, but only because they want the best product possible.
There are those who help with my shows. Sometimes they make me crazy in their own way, but their way of pulling the extra weight and dealing with my crazy are incredible.
There are my fan boys who are not afraid of a flame war on my social media, but make my social media what it is.
Sometimes I am mired in my own fog, my own mind, my own bullshit, that I forget to see all the love in my love.........
Buy My Merch
There is my family. Sure, they are all nuts but they would take a bullet for me.
There are my friends who's creativity, talent, and generosity never cease to amaze me.
There are my housemates, who, while both crazy, are always my listening ears.
There is my boss who calls me at all hours for deliveries, but legit cares about everyone who orders a telegram and everyone who works for him.
There are my fellows in my MFA program, who are studious about the written word and equally as passionate about social justice.
There are my fellows in the comedy world, OCD about every word and every punchline, but excited like children in a toy store each time they step onstage.
There are my fellows in the acting world, anal about craft, but because they care so much about the wordsmith who wrote the script and honoring them.
There are my fellows in the activism world, who sometimes can be obnoxious but really truly want to make the world a better and more beautiful place.
There are those who mentor me in my career, who never let me get off easy, often too honest, but only because they want the best product possible.
There are those who help with my shows. Sometimes they make me crazy in their own way, but their way of pulling the extra weight and dealing with my crazy are incredible.
There are my fan boys who are not afraid of a flame war on my social media, but make my social media what it is.
Sometimes I am mired in my own fog, my own mind, my own bullshit, that I forget to see all the love in my love.........
Buy My Merch
January 22, 2018
10 Things I Know For Sure
1. Gender is fluid. If someone wants to take a pay cut, be cat called, and put up with general sexism I will call her a woman.
2. Liberals have a lot of idiots on their side, too. I have met screamers who won't listen and make me want to have an ice cream cone.
3. Lots of conservatives call liberals snowflakes, but when you insult them, they cry like school kids.
4. When a woman says she isn't fucking you, it means she wants sex and she's crazy.
5. When a guy says his ex was crazy, he is a lying dirt bag who wants sex and he's the one that's crazy.
6. When a man has his kid's names tattooed on his arm, he isn't paying child support.
7. Women's Rights Are Human Rights.
8. You should have friends from every gender identity, orientation, and background. You don't always have to agree with their politics but the important thing is they are there for you.
9. Writing top 10 lists in sexy pajamas is fun
10. I was tired when I took the pic below, but the older I get the more I accidentally resemble Mae West......the reason I take to the stage and the page to begin with.
Redbubble
2. Liberals have a lot of idiots on their side, too. I have met screamers who won't listen and make me want to have an ice cream cone.
3. Lots of conservatives call liberals snowflakes, but when you insult them, they cry like school kids.
4. When a woman says she isn't fucking you, it means she wants sex and she's crazy.
5. When a guy says his ex was crazy, he is a lying dirt bag who wants sex and he's the one that's crazy.
6. When a man has his kid's names tattooed on his arm, he isn't paying child support.
7. Women's Rights Are Human Rights.
8. You should have friends from every gender identity, orientation, and background. You don't always have to agree with their politics but the important thing is they are there for you.
9. Writing top 10 lists in sexy pajamas is fun
10. I was tired when I took the pic below, but the older I get the more I accidentally resemble Mae West......the reason I take to the stage and the page to begin with.
Redbubble
January 21, 2018
The Importance of the Women's March to the Pro-Choice Movement
For the longest time, there has been March For Life. As a kid, the youth group of my church constantly went. We were beat over the head with the evils of abortion and how it destroyed the family. Priests preached at length about how the baby was killed during partial birth, and the Clinton's were monsters for supporting it. Abortion was murder, end of story.
At the age of 10, I gave out the white ribbons. I also helped design a cross in my Sunday School class as a monument to a soul killed to abortion. This whole debate was black and white. Abortionist doctors were bad. Women who got abortions were evil. The babies were angels. There was no talk of the father who flew the coup or the abusive husband who forced her into a pregnancy.
As I got older, I saw friends of mine get pregnant as teenagers. The Christian Right in my area pushed sex ed with religious speakers preaching for us to abstain from pre-marital sex. That was as effective as a band aid on a bullet wound. My high school had the highest pregnancy rate in the area as a matter of fact.
Some of these girls had support, but many struggled. The social stigma at school was horrendous. Some dropped out because they couldn't work, watch their kid, and go to school. The teen dad always cut and run, and he seldom had a job so garnishing the wages were out of the question. Most of the pro-life zealots were also white men who preached God, but wanted to cut the social programs to help these women.
The older I got, the more I realized it was a woman's body and it was her choice. She has to have the baby, and for the most part a man is just a sperm donor and jockey in the equation. There are men who do the right thing, but there are many who don't. Yet the world punishes the woman. Adoption should be an option and is a wonderful one. There are people willing to take kids as their own who aren't blessed with the ability, but you need the birth father's signature in some states and others make it difficult. And religious adoption agencies won't give to same sex couples who will gladly give that child a good, safe home.
For years, as I shed the conservative skin of my youth, I cringed when I saw March For Life. This wasn't a march for the unborn or the poor women in trouble. This was a march for the patriarchy to take control of my body. This was a march for bored white law makers who were obsessed with my uterus.
I realized if a woman had an abortion she always felt like she was the worst person ever. I realized if a woman gave her child up for adoption she always lost sleep wondering if the kid had a good life. I realized if a woman kept the kid she was forced on welfare most of the time and felt cheated out of what her life could have been. There are no winners here, and white male lawmakers fail to realize that.
That being said, for years Pro-Choice had no counter protest. Now we do. With every protest there is always a counter protest, or at least there should be. March For Life has their day, and we have ours. If anything, Trump made Pro-Choice activists mobilize in a way we never have before. Yes, one side believes my stance is morally wrong, and I believe their stance hurts women and children.
Despite my strong beliefs I have friends who are pro-life. We do not disagree on everything. For instance, we all agree most people overlook adoption and it should be easier for people who want to adopt to adopt. We also think there need to be social programs to help single mothers finish school so they aren't always dependent on welfare, and those programs shouldn't be cut. Because not only can they get educated, but their children don't continue the cycle by becoming teen parents themselves. Lastly, we all agree the court needs to come down harder on dead beat dads.
The March For Life and The Women's March are both important events. While I don't agree with pro-life completely, both need to continue to occur so the dialogue can happen. That way, women can make an informed decision as to what they want to do with their bodies without government interference. That the choice they make will be a safe one with the proper medical care.
And it will be the best one for the mother and child, whatever that choice might be.
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At the age of 10, I gave out the white ribbons. I also helped design a cross in my Sunday School class as a monument to a soul killed to abortion. This whole debate was black and white. Abortionist doctors were bad. Women who got abortions were evil. The babies were angels. There was no talk of the father who flew the coup or the abusive husband who forced her into a pregnancy.
As I got older, I saw friends of mine get pregnant as teenagers. The Christian Right in my area pushed sex ed with religious speakers preaching for us to abstain from pre-marital sex. That was as effective as a band aid on a bullet wound. My high school had the highest pregnancy rate in the area as a matter of fact.
Some of these girls had support, but many struggled. The social stigma at school was horrendous. Some dropped out because they couldn't work, watch their kid, and go to school. The teen dad always cut and run, and he seldom had a job so garnishing the wages were out of the question. Most of the pro-life zealots were also white men who preached God, but wanted to cut the social programs to help these women.
The older I got, the more I realized it was a woman's body and it was her choice. She has to have the baby, and for the most part a man is just a sperm donor and jockey in the equation. There are men who do the right thing, but there are many who don't. Yet the world punishes the woman. Adoption should be an option and is a wonderful one. There are people willing to take kids as their own who aren't blessed with the ability, but you need the birth father's signature in some states and others make it difficult. And religious adoption agencies won't give to same sex couples who will gladly give that child a good, safe home.
For years, as I shed the conservative skin of my youth, I cringed when I saw March For Life. This wasn't a march for the unborn or the poor women in trouble. This was a march for the patriarchy to take control of my body. This was a march for bored white law makers who were obsessed with my uterus.
I realized if a woman had an abortion she always felt like she was the worst person ever. I realized if a woman gave her child up for adoption she always lost sleep wondering if the kid had a good life. I realized if a woman kept the kid she was forced on welfare most of the time and felt cheated out of what her life could have been. There are no winners here, and white male lawmakers fail to realize that.
That being said, for years Pro-Choice had no counter protest. Now we do. With every protest there is always a counter protest, or at least there should be. March For Life has their day, and we have ours. If anything, Trump made Pro-Choice activists mobilize in a way we never have before. Yes, one side believes my stance is morally wrong, and I believe their stance hurts women and children.
Despite my strong beliefs I have friends who are pro-life. We do not disagree on everything. For instance, we all agree most people overlook adoption and it should be easier for people who want to adopt to adopt. We also think there need to be social programs to help single mothers finish school so they aren't always dependent on welfare, and those programs shouldn't be cut. Because not only can they get educated, but their children don't continue the cycle by becoming teen parents themselves. Lastly, we all agree the court needs to come down harder on dead beat dads.
The March For Life and The Women's March are both important events. While I don't agree with pro-life completely, both need to continue to occur so the dialogue can happen. That way, women can make an informed decision as to what they want to do with their bodies without government interference. That the choice they make will be a safe one with the proper medical care.
And it will be the best one for the mother and child, whatever that choice might be.
Buy My Merch
January 20, 2018
memes and pics oh my
Donald J. Tramp with some young voters
Donny grabbing it by the pussy
Some memesJanuary 17, 2018
Clothing Items and Meet Kimmie
This week's family member being spotlighted is Kimmie. I met her on the protest trail. She also has a role in The Lady and President Tramp. Not only is she a radical darling with her rainbow hair, but she is an audience favorite. I just wish Kimmie wasn't so.......well.......Kimmie
Also, this week, I am spotlighting a new merch item. That merch item is my t-shirt. It comes in sizes for both guys and girls. Buy one today so you can be close to me......and it comes in 28 different styles, bae bae!
Buy my merch
Also, this week, I am spotlighting a new merch item. That merch item is my t-shirt. It comes in sizes for both guys and girls. Buy one today so you can be close to me......and it comes in 28 different styles, bae bae!
Buy my merch
