(Almost) A Superstar

The other day I was delivering a singing chicken out in Rockaway Beach. As we all know that is quite the trek from Manhattan. First it is the A train. But then you have to transfer at Rockaway Avenue if you want to go to Rockaway Beach because the A train goes right to Lefferts and that is sort of the ‘hood.  Then you get off at Broad Channel. From there you have to take the S shuttle which runs when it wants to run and then you end up at your final destination.

I had my chicken costume and mylar balloons. It was windy as hell and no one was picking up the phone. The bag over my balloons blew off. Cursing myself for taking this chicken in the far reaches of hell I wondered what was I doing with myself? Sure I love doing the singing telegrams. But nights like this I wonder why I make the decisions I do. I tried the contact, no answer. There were cars in this driveway. But the lights were off. The temperate was starting to drop. I was going to lose my balloons and this delivery was going to be a disaster.

Finally the contact picked up. Yes! But they weren’t there yet.

I got to meet her and she was nice but sort of old school NY Italian type of gal. We talked for a few minutes and then she and her fiancé drove me around the corner to change. Apparently the telegram was from her aunt who was in Aruba at the time.

When I got to the house to do the telegram my recipient was one tough customer and it was a tough crowd. I told myself not to give up but these people were harder than a math test at MIT. Taking a deep breath I told myself the show must go on. Finally I asked him to cluck and the people started to warm up. Towards the end they got into it. And at the end the recipient gave me a big hug and told me I did a good job. I felt like beating myself up because usually I have them rolling in the aisles but again, these people were tough. Plus I was still thawing from being in the cold for so long.

The contact explained that her uncle, the recipient, was a nice guy but a tough customer and her whole family was. But they did in fact enjoy it and I got a nice tip. I took off my chicken mask and she looked at me. She asked, “How do I know you? Wait, I have seen your face before. You have been on TV.”

I nodded and said that I in fact had. I asked where she had seen me. She said, “You were that girl with the puppets from ‘My Strange Addiction.”

“Yes, and I even have one right here.” I informed her and then proceeded to pull out Officer E, my gay cop puppet.” That’s when I got him out and gave her a few seconds of material.

“You should have done that tonight. They would have loved that.”

“Eh, I wasn’t booked to do that but maybe I will next time.” I told her. Then I said I appreciated her telling me I was on TV with my children because I do not own a TV.

“Why don’t you own a TV?” She asked.

“Eh….I watch TV on internet.” I told her.

We laughed for a brief minute and then she said, “Well you should do the puppet thing. You should follow it. You have a real gift for that.” She said and then wished me a nice night.

As I rode home I was amazed she had recognized me. I had a fan and didn’t even know it. Sometimes it feels like an uphill battle with the politics of this industry and with every project I do I seemingly get no where. However this was a signal my dreams are starting to come true.

Today I carry this message and this star. And with this message and this star it doesnt make it as bad that someone I thought to be a friend dissed me in an ever public forum.

More or that later.

Happy New Year!

Tune into Confessions Sunday night from 8-10 pm EST on younow.com’s 25 plus channel. Topic, New Years Resolutions.

Love April

A Red Neck Life Lesson

Over the weekend my lawyer father read some case law a cousin of ours had on the books. My relatives have done a great many things when testing the judicial system. However Harry Albion Diffendal has a case on record in Diffendal v. Commonwealth of Virginia.

To give you a background on these family members, they are the side of my grandmother’s family that never made it out of the Shannandoah Valley. Their ancestors were scouts for Robert E. Lee. They didn’t own slaves. That would involve money and some modicum of class. They were just red necks that didn’t want the U.S. of A. Most people are under the misconception that the Civil War was all about freeing the slaves. No, only a small sliver gave a damn about the slaves. My rels could have taken the blacks either way. There was a United States and they just didn’t want them Yankees in their business.

Anyway to make a long story short cousin Harry Albion (who happened to be a lawyer), probably brother to Cooter, was watching the property of his client, a man by the name of Smith, who was currently on vacay in Alaska. It seems cousin Harry Albion was probably a country lawyer and Smith may have been one of the few clients he had. Missing teeth and saving up his funds for his shot gun, Smith probably repaid my cousin Harry Albion twice removed with a weekend on his Hill Billy Palace while he was in Alaska getting Polar Bear hide.

A woman, who happened to be a cop, pulled up next to the property in her car. Harry Albion and his friend didn’t recognize the vehicle. Immediately they assumed this was an intruder and when you live in the backwoods everyone has a shotgun, therefore this indruder could have very well been armed and dangerous. Or at the very least, an even bigger and badder red neck with the stains of chewing tobacco on his teeth as the coffee colored saliva ran down his mouth. Even worse, if he was met with Lassie the Rapid Blood Hound this Hee Haw Reject could have been really dangerous and ready to kill. Even worse, it could have been a weed smoking hippie. Someone who should have been shot on merit alone in their eyes.

Fearing for their safety, they hid in the bushes with their rifles ready to attack. In between, in typical redneck fashion, there was hollering involved to make one’s presence known. Harry Albion emerged with his rifle and discovered the woman, there to check on an elderly neighbor, was a cop. They could tell by the clipboard on the dashboard of her car. Not exercising tact, Harry Albion informed the officer that there had been police twice on the property that week doing searches, both which he believed were illegal. Harry Albion then informed her that if a cop were to come again he would shoot first and ask questions later. As the conversation continued and Harry lowered his rifle as he got more comfortable. However, there was more hollering in between. Eventually the cops, were called, Harry Albion got arrested and all went to court.

Just when all hope was lost for cousin Harry Albion, he turned out to be the hero of the story.

In the end the ruling was that it was lawful for a person to have a weapon and use any force necessary if they truly believed their life was in danger. This case has been cited in several instances, one where a prisoner stabbed a guard with a shank because he believed his safety to be in danger as the guard was supposedly using excessive force. The prisoner got off and it was all because of my cousin, Harry Albion Diffendale. Harry Albion and his case have been cited numerous times not only in the state of Virginia but on the federal level as well citing a precident for self defense law everywhere.

My dad upon discovering this told us he had some case law on books. My sister informed him, “Dad, you were on the prosecution side. You weren’t the defendant.” While that seems like a good thing it is. It's even better because just as in life, in my family that is like encounting a UFO and a vampire in the same day, an utter rarity.

At the end of the day a great many things can be said about my rels in the Shannandoah. They are red neck mountain people who probably drink moonshine as they listen to country music. They are probably missing teeth in some vital places as well. Not to mention they probably  support the Tea Party, and might even be marching with their local militia in a paranoia that the government will soon turn on them. Oh and some possibly even sport the mullet believing it is the best fashion trend next to jean overalls with no shirt and a beer belly.

However Harry Albion Diffendal was not a victim. He knew his rights and if anyone told him otherwise he fought them. So many people in this world don’t know their rights and don’t stick up for themselves because they are afraid to. As a result of my cousin Harry Albion, brother to Cooter, there is case law saying I can use whatever means necessary to protect myself if I feel that my life and safety are being threatened. Translated, they would probably disagree with my liberal leaning, dance music listening, gay friend having lifestyle in NYC as they wave their Confederate flags convinced someday the South will rise again.

 However, we agree on one thing. There are plenty of evil people in this world willing to hurt a person for no reason.  There are plenty of people in this world who will assume you are stupid and will manipulate you in any way that they can.

Why not know your rights and why be a victim? Why let them win?

Christmas Picturing and Other Matters

Today my family took a family picture. It had been years since we had taken one. Actually, the last time we took a familial pictorial was when I was at NYU, my brother was finishing undergrad at Brown and my sister was still in high school. It looked like Ronald McDonald did my makeup while on crack for the last one plus I was a little hefty. Perhaps it was best we took another.

So we did. This picture was a little different. For one we weren’t all in white which was nice. Being a coffee drinker I would have most definitely stained my shirt ruining the entire photo. Of course there was the fact I fired Ronald McDonald as my makeup artist. Then there was the edition of the Santa hats. Oh and lets not forget my brother’s wife Stacy. Yes my brother Billy is married as hard as it may be for me to fathom. Brenna isn’t married yet, thank God. She doesn’t have a child yet which is good because she is not married. Actually Brenna is in her third year of medical school at Brown and is doing well. So that brings me to myself. I almost got married at twenty one and thank God I didn’t otherwise it would have been a nightmare. Oh and we have no progeny as a result of our hot mess of a union.

Another thing we did was stick Santa hats on and stood around a Ginger Bread house. It was actually sort of fun. At first we were dreading this nightmare. My mother wanted a family picture and whatever Mama Brucker wants Mama Brucker gets.

While getting photographed I saw some former classmates of mine. Darah was there with her husband Denny and their daughter Audrey. I remember it was just yesterday Darah was cheerleading and Denny was a star hockey player. I always liked them both. Denny was a guest on Apriltalk back in my BPTV days and I believe Darah was actually a cheerleading captain I believe. She was always trying to get me to go out for cheerleading. I was popular but I always said I wasn’t a cheerleader. Okay, I wanted to be one deep down but truth be told I couldn’t do the straddle jump. I was awful at it. Then there was Angie, Denny’s sister, perhaps one of the sweetest girls ever and president of our class. I still remember what a wonderful job she did at commencement. Now she is married. Oh and her folks were there with an African American child Calvin that they adopted. I have a soft spot for people who adopt because I have six cousins who are adopted, two from Pittsburgh and four from Russia. So when people adopt and open their home freely to children who have been given up I can appreciate the sacrifice and know what good hearts those people have.

We went to a different Christmas mass than we have in previous years. My parents changed churches over the last year because of stuff that happened with the pastor. Anyway we went to this new mass and I actually did end up liking the church. The pastor was funny, a change from the church I grew up going to. Plus the people were HAPPY TO BE THERE.  Another change from the church I grew up going to. The children were there in full force. Something that was absent in the church I grew up going to. Actually the priest in my church going up was pretty freaky. He crashed our CCD class once telling this disturbing parable of about a boy who wanted to behead a cat and then asked what Bible verse matched up. Oh and they would have these freaky visiting priests who barely spoke English that would talk ad nauseum. Here there seems to be none of that nuttiness. Heck if you were to visit the church I grew up going to you would probably never want to go to church again. This church on the other hand is a wonderful community. I think my folks have made a good change.

Tomorrow I will get to see my family. I will get to see my grandparents and my baby cousins and hear all about what Santa gave them, how they are doing in school and how Case and Notre Dame are treating them.

Bottom line: At the end of the day when you start to hate Christmas remember the meaning of the season is about finding meaning outside of yourself.

Yes, no matter how much you want to kill them it is about family. Love April

Inappropriate Christmas Note

Dear Friends and Family,

This year has been wonderful for the family. For starters I am getting better from having the probes removed from the back of my skull. After the aliens abducted from me I lost my job because I was absent from work but rest assured I am starting to feel better. I vomit less. However I popped out an alien baby with flippers for fingers and toes suddenly. We didn’t know what to think of the whole thing so we named him Luke Skywalker. We are telling everyone he is an adoptee from a church in West Virginia.

My husband Frank has been great. We have been going to counseling. He shows his love by only using the c word three times a day and only beats me with a closed fist now. I think we are making progress. He put a light display on our trailer which is so cute! He said it was the least he could do with the welfare and food stamps we have been collecting.

My son Derk is doing wonderfully. He is working part time as a lab test subject. We say, “So what he can’t pee on his own and glows in the dark this is the best job he has ever had!” Derk met a girl Susie at the test clinic and the two had a child Blake. Blake unfortunately was born with Downs Syndrome. Susie was upset about having a special needs baby but I told her when Blake got old enough he could share the play cage with Luke Skywalker. Alien baby, mongoloid, no one would ever know the difference. We are all God’s children.

My daughter Darlene quit her job at the Toot-n-Scoot after my abduction. Instead now she works at the local massage parlor/whorehouse. At first her father and I were not please because we raised her going to the Land’s End Full Bible Church but also because she promised to keep the promise ring on. However she surprised us all by being promoted to head hooker. Unfortunately her boyfriend Blade escaped from prison and she went on the lamb with him. We didn’t know where they were until we got a Christmas card from Mexico. While we love Blade and the way he treats our daughter we saw his photo on America’s Most Wanted and there is a generous reward. We are calling the Crime-800 number. Sure it’s wrong but Frank wants those new rims for his car.

Frank Jr. has now become Francine. While Frank is not sure about the sex change I welcome it. Finally I can have a real daughter and unlike the screw up hooker in Mexico. That's when Francine told me it could be worse, Darlene could be having a black baby. Oh she was right my Francine.

Our dog Biscuit is fat and useless as ever.

Anyway, may the joy of the season and the Lord Jesus Christ the Almighty and Heavenly Savior be with you this Christmas.

The Bunner Family

Christmas Crunch

Can I start by saying I don’t like Christmas right now? I don’t know what is worse about this yuletide hell mess. Is it the fact the card companies capitalizing? Is it the fact the Christmas decorations come out right after Halloween and when the big day hits you are so sick of hearing carols you want to go all postal worker and just start shooting people? Or maybe it is the religious right so poised to make it a holiday about their lord and savior supposedly born in a manger that they have to put up live scenes abusing donkeys and babies everywhere for the sake of realism? Or is it the Jewish people who want their turn and want to put up their Channakah candles and the Christians won’t let them and they are yelling on the news about the fact they can’t celebrate? Or is it the Atheists who correct everyone telling them it is sparkle season because they believe in nothing at all? Or is it the fact you buy gifts for people who probably will never appreciate them or will probably regift them anyway? Then what about the family members no one can stand? Then there is the weight gain. Oh how I hate the holidays.

I am trying to think of some things I like about Christmas if there is ever anything to like because according to me everyday should be Halloween. We can dress up, have fun, eat candy and watch scary movies that are an escape from the real world as well as the American Republican Party. Now let me tell you, those people, as well as the Christian Right, are truly scary. By the way, they are the ones who try to spoil Santa with the religious stuff.

But what do I like about Christmas? I do like the cards I get from friends/family with too much information about their lives. Sure it’s TMI but at the same time I like to hear how their children are doing. Rudolph, who saved Christmas because of a freakish red nose that glowed, is my idol letting me know that while you may get hell for being different those who think outside of the box and are true to who they are have the power to change the world. I consider myself a Progressive Christian and can appreciate a good live manger scene, lets just hope they are giving the donkey and child water breaks. As for the Jews I want them to have their time in the sun and welcome the Channakah protests as a change from the Christmas riff raff. While I get annoyed with the Sparkle Season zealots I do admire Frosty the Snowman, their secular lord and savior. I like the gifts I get, I know that much. And damn you if you think I am returning them. As for the disliked family members, it makes me feel that unlike my dysfunctional men I did not pick them and at the end of the day they add flavor to the world and I love them for that and that alone. The cookies, I am baking and eating them at the same time. The weight gain I could do without but that is why God invented the gym.

So perhaps Christmas isn’t that horrendous. Oh well, off to vacuum. My brother and sister in law are coming. And off to bake some Ginger Bread and sugar cookies xoxox April

Return of Ross: Dead Beat Daddy. A Must Read

Yes he did try to return. This is the text conversation bad grammar and all word for word. Remember this is a twenty nine year old loser.

Ross:I know your probly still mad @ me & that’s ok. I feel bad about how we left off & I don’t want 2 lose u as a friend. What I want to say is; I’m sorry.

Me: The only thing you are sorry about is getting caught. You are a liar and nothing you says has any validity or credibility. You have shown me who you are and now I know to believe you. I am sorry I trusted you and let you into my life. You are a snake who misrepresents himself and preys on vulnerable women. I’m sorry I didn’t know better. Now slick back your hair, strap your kiddies that you don’t acknowledge to your back, and find your next victim. You are a deadbeat and your lines won’t work here Buster. Don’t even try you grammatical and syntax nightmare.

Ross: Even if u don’t 4give me I’m alrite wit that. I wish nothing but the best 4 u and I apologize

Me: Well you should. I didn’t do anything wrong. Unfortunately your children’s mother isn’t as smart as I am. And then again I am even stupider for giving a spelling nightmare like yourself the time of day. Please tell your male support group your side of the street is clean. However they neglected to tell you that much like a magic spell, an amends must be sincere in order to work.

Ross: I am sincere,I wish, I could tell you face to face, so you know how I really feel…..

At that moment I decided I had to stop the retardation. This was like kicking a crippled puppy, at a certain point the ass beating is so severe that it isn’t even fair to continue. But this was so comical that this deadbeat reprobate thought these would be the words to win by heart and finally get in my panties. Go pay child support and stop pumping out babies you deadbeat piece of trash!

Yesterday Once More (The Carpenters)

I am currently home for the holidays and seeing a lot of people I grew up with. The other day I was at the mall buying presents (shhh….) and saw a girl I went to high school with and her boyfriend. She said she had seen me on TV and when I was on she and two girls she was friends with that I knew from high school had a party to celebrate. There was not a lot of beer guzzling because she was pregnant however there was a lot of food. I had to laugh. It was only ten years ago we were juniors at Bethel Park. Now she had a child and the other two girls were gainfully employed as hairdressers. One is always blonde, the other changes her hair color every week. I remember them both when they were just brunettes.

Another girl I came across was involved in theatre with me in high school. She was the lead in all the plays. A few years older than me I looked up to her and hope she is still acting somewhere. She is an instructor and trainer at the Apple Store which means she is still using the gifts she was given to entertain in some fashion. She’s married too.

Then again my brother is married. My brother who graduated third in his class, went to Brown and held all the school weight lifting records. Yes my brother who when a female crushee called the house replied, “What do you want!” It was as if he were Thor and this commoner had scaled to Vahalla uninvited. Now he is married and he is like a Teddy Bear when it comes to his wife. Now it’s, “Yes little bit.”

Of course then a lot of my classmates are married and are having children which frightens me. I am not ready for the idea of children yet. There is no husband let alone a man who doesn’t have a probation officer on the horizon. If I were to have a kid I would have a nurse follow it by, “Okay, here are your options.”

 But some of my classmates are on their third kid. Some of their kids are even going to Lincoln, the place I went to school! Ahhh!

Then again I guess we all grow up. My sister is in her third year of medical school. She has just finished country medicine and is now going to deliver babies. My cousin who is a nurse hated it. She said all people did is scream at them. Well to my sister and cousin, it is a friendly reminder that you are the one who has to do all the hard work and men are simply sperm donors who can flash the photo of the tike or walk away at any time. But it was just yesterday my sister was tagging along with me, running cross country and my cousin was talking about her clique the Octogons….

The other day I went to visit my old orthodontist and there was a girl across the hall brushing her teeth. She complained about how she hated it. She might have been only thirteen at most. I asked her if she was doing the rubber bands and she said not yet but they were coming. I remembered the braces, the awkwardness and how food always got trapped. However when I was done I also had a good set of teeth. I remembered being so self-conscious being my thirteen year old self and encountering other thirteen year old selves that were nothing but mean, bitchy girls who grew up into mean, bitchy women. I told his youngin it was going to be okay. Part of me wanted to give her a hug but she was a stranger and don’t touch strangers they may carry knives even in the suburbs.

I also remembered my dreams from that part of my life. I wanted to move to New York, perform with my puppets, write books, be famous.

Part of me started to feel like a failure. Not famous yet. But I am getting there one TV appearance at a time. However I still have to buy a TV. But maybe the TV appearance is coming up where I can afford one. I am on my way to publishing my book one step at a time. I am hosting my own talk show. As I said I have been on TV a number of times, met famous people, but am still hunting for the big break. In this ever mazed world as I don’t know what is next for me I know I am doing what I always set out to do. And no one from my high school has ever opened for Aretha Franklin.

The crazy thing now is that I am on YouNow and I interface with that age group all the time. Sometimes I am pleasantly surprised by how informed they are. At the same time, they are very sensitive. Sometimes it makes me laugh about how they are sensitive and I don’t understand. On the other hand I remember being that sensitive and everything being a soap opera level drama from best friend dissing to boys. That’s when I become a Mother Hen and inform them that it’s not that serious.

On the other hand, it is wonderful when these kids open up to me not only about what’s going on in their world but about their goals in life. One of my little poppyseeds shared he got accepted to uni and was excited. I remember when I got accepted to the college of my choice how excited I was and how it felt the world belonged to me. Another designs websites and showed me some of his work which was extraordinary. Others have shown me their drawings or played me music they have written and recorded. I remember how important my work was to me then and still is. I also remember how wonderful it was when an adult listened and took a look.

Crazy thing is, although these kids are halfway around the world I remember their American high school counterparts. And I see some of myself in them. On the other hand as an adult I feel somewhat jaded and hardened by the world. These kids sort of melt that ice block assuring me that yes, it is okay to dream and lead with your heart.

Perhaps, although clouded with hormones, this is teenage wisdom that we all sort of chuck aside for adult stupidity. Love April

Blog Log

Today started out kind of strange. I got a text from the friend things got sort of complicated with. Basically when things got complicated he welcomed the idea of a relationship and I wanted to run the other way. I had been through the ringer, that was my excuse. There was the psychotic ex fiancé that perhaps has damaged my perception when it comes to love forever. However, my buddy had his own share of heartbreak and heart ache, one which included a nasty battle with his ex wife over his little boy. He should have been more scared than I was but he wasn’t.

Before the break in occurred, I hadn’t viewed this friend as nothing more than a friend. We joked and laughed because he worked as a promoter and we knew all the same people. To me it seemed he was a lady’s man and perhaps liked the trashiest girls. I remember looking at the picture of this girl he had intrigued and possibly slept with. I half smiled and didn’t want to touch his iphone screen for fear I would get a strange disease. I told him I could never be slutty enough for him in a joking manner. It seems this friend had other thoughts.

Sure there were a lot of indicators that he was bad for me. A lot of markers that our life choices didn’t match up. A lot of people telling me to run like the wind in the other direction.

But for once in my twenty seven years I didn’t feel like I was going to be alone forever. I felt like when he told me he cared me meant it. When he said sweet things he meant those too. They weren’t just lines from some dead beat trying to achieve some shallow goal of physical satisfaction. Then again most guys in my experience are deadbeats. Whether they are lying about the rock n roll superstardom they never had, concealing children they don’t acknowledge let alone support, have a rightfully angry baby mama, or are just abusive pricks that refuse to work. This guy was none of these things. If anything he told me too much of the truth. He admitted to his children. Yes he had a rightfully angry baby mama but there are always two sides to that story. He was far from being an abusive prick. If anything I started to believe my heart wouldn’t be this icebox, permanently frozen and impenetrable to any man who came my way. Not to mention he was proud of me for the things I did.

We all know that would have never lasted with Ross, Mr. Dead Beat Daddy GED Automechanic Reprobate. He would have been embarrassed when I was smarter than him in front of his friends which was bound to happen because Ross wasn’t all that bright.

My mom says a lot can be said about a guys kiss and his kisses were the sweetest I had ever had. I also got to see I was wrong about this dude. He wasn’t a lady’s man. Maybe I wanted him to be. That way it would be easier to run from the idea of a relationship.

And that’s exactly what I did, I ran. I ran far away. I don’t even know why I run. I just do. Perhaps it was being rejected at twenty by the man I really wanted to love me who possessed the nice penthouse apartment. Maybe it was the abusive, mentally ill ex fiancé that I had whom I still have nightmares about. Sure it could have been the lawyer who lied so much and so often that he forgot the truth. What about the crazed quasi-boyfriend who wanted to spend every second of every day with me suffocating and smothering me? Then there was the other quasi-boyfriend, the famous legend much older. I liked it but it wasn’t real. However this friend that things got complicated with was my confidant that weekend.

While I want true love every time I enter a relationship I feel like a prisoner wanting to break out of a steel cage in a maximum security facility. They let me in and I just want to escape. I scared off the guy when I was twenty by bragging about all the bad boys who wanted me. Of course then I tried to break up with the ex fiancé every time I could but he kept luring me back with his games. Then the lawyer, all I did was cheat on him the entire time and no I don’t feel bad. He was lucky I gave his balding ass the time of day. As for the quasi-boyfriends, just disappeared on them. I figured they had lied and cheated their share of women. It was my turn to be Captain Kharma. Love don’t live here anymore bitches.

But this guy was different. He made me believe it could be different even if it was for an instant, like there could be a happily ever after where I wasn’t trying to leap out of the male designed, chauvinistic plated ivory tower that imprisoned. For once it seemed like the both of us would be equal partners in an adventure of love and togetherness, not watch April chase after another man who doesn’t care. Or watch April get with a guy who pretends to think that it’s great that she loves to write, loves her puppets and even knows obscure facts about obscure things. Then she outdoes him, outsmarts him and then it’s all over.

He’s schtooping some slut with breast implants and says it’s because she knows how to express herself and that I don’t. And when I call him on his cheating lying ways well, he’s defensive. Then again they all cheat and lie. What else is new?

On to happier things. I am doing my show this week on the Monday after Christmas. My little poppyseeds have given me so much to be thankful for this year.  They always amaze me with their spunk, creativity, and sometimes serve as guiding lights in my often foggy life. They are very funny and always make me laugh. The thing we lose with adulthood is the ability to truly be honest. I am instating a poppyseed of the week as part of my blog. To earn it my little poppyseeds must do extraordinary things to be featured.

I also got some cavities filled which I hate.

Got some vicadon as a pain killer.

Does vicadon cure a heart filled with metaphorical bullet holes? Love April

Teaching Moments

This past week a friend of mine Melanie, who happens to be transgendered, made me think. After an adventure where I visited a close friend in Union Square and saw a trans woman who I believe was working as a prostitute with her frightening looking pimp in the Dunkin Donuts. Since the element of people were getting shady my friend and I left. In between fright and awe I made a glib remark on facebook that I thought was funny.

I got a few likes and that’s when Melanie came down on the thread like white on rice in a snowstorm on a paper plate challenging my perceptions. I did not know for a fact the woman was going to work as a prostitute. Even if she was who was I to judge her? Unfortunately trans people don’t exist on paper. While the state of NYC is making it easier to change the birth certificates it is still a long drawn out process therefore these people are pushed into the sex trade often against their own will and are often the subject of violence because sometimes they have to conceal their true gender identity such as Venus Xtravanganza of Paris is Burning.

Then a fan letter from a trans woman I received came flooding back to me. A few months back I had a transman on my show at the inception of Confessions on YouNow.com. This transwoman wrote me afterward thanking me for giving people like her “a voice.” She told me because she was trans, male biologically but female identified, she has been subject to verbal and physical harassment as well as violence. This fan letter not only brought tears to my eyes because not only did this woman reach out to me in a beautiful way, but also because people have made her life a nightmare because she lives in a world that often tells her there is no place for her. While she tells me her life has gotten better I know it was a long, dark journey into the woods to get to the end of the rainbow.

Then I thought of my own buttons and own triggers. This past year I was blessed to be on TV quite a bit. While he was the subject of a comedy act that has never failed me, for the first time in a long time I spoke about the verbal and physical abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex fiancé. I spoke about how he wanted to rob me of my ventriloquism, my family and everything that made me happy so he could have me to himself. After we broke up he started stalking me. The stalking was so terrible I wore running shoes in case he would make an appearance wherever I was. My mother kept his name on the refrigerator in case I disappeared. That is just the tip of the iceberg.

As a result of me being on TV and speaking about this I received fan letters from young people who have been bullied and young women who escaped abusive relationships as well as those trying to get out. What broke my heart was when one woman claimed she deserved this. For years certain rap songs with the lyrics “Smack up my bitch” drove me up the wall as well as songs where men spoke about women as sexual objects cutting them down. Not to mention jokes with punchlines like, “The bitch has two black eyes because you told her twice” made me want to hit the person back. It’s not because I was a tightwad with no sense of humor, it’s because I knew what those jokes perpetuated and I knew how harmful that behavior could be to people just as Delaney and many trans folk know how certain jokes can be hurtful and encourage harmful behavior as well.

A few months back I was on a radio show where the hosts joked about a guy who broke up with a girl and went so far as to post her number online telling everyone she was giving away free sex and even put her address up. The male hosts baptized him “the best guy ever” and talked about “how he ruled” and how “this bitch must have deserved it.” Meanwhile my ex had done something similar, putting a photo of me up online that I sent him in a bikini and wrote “Easy Slut” over it. I did nothing to this man except break off an abusive relationship and beg him to get the help he needed. I tried to speak up but after a few minutes gave in to the straight, white male privileged agenda. However that bothered me so much that when they asked me to come back to the show I couldn’t do it. Part of it was that I would just make myself angry, but the other part of it was that I was ashamed for not sticking up for that young woman.

However I would soon get my chance to have plenty of teaching moments as far as the subject went. I am not only a show host on YouNow.com but a regular broadcaster with these folks. On the site I interface with a lot of people, young people, from all over the world. I have spoken several times about being a survivor of dating violence and how it isn’t just an issue for young straight people but people of any gender, orientation and nationality. To my pleasant surprise not only do these young people get it but have written to me with their experiences.

Sometimes though, we get a few young ones on YouNow who use the “f” word in reference to gay people and make other homophobic remarks about how gay people deserved to be bashed. After seeing this a few times I decided to speak up and told these young offenders why such language was not only wrong but harmful. I talked about a friend of mine who was jumped by four men in his neighborhood because he was gay and one had a knife. My buddy tried to fight back and got away but he had a scar of his cheek as a result of the knife fight. Although he always wore cover up the scar remained. Roger only told me the story once but never told it again. Bottom line, saying gays deserved to be punched lets some wayward soul lets some wayward soul believe the abhorrent behavior is okay. I knew sharing the story could get these kids to turn on me. Drenched in disgust I was okay with that.

To my pleasant surprise the majority of the young people verbally lambasted the hateful hater and his buddy in the chat. Many of the youthful broadcasters that evening got on camera not only to back up what I was saying but also to let this person know that everyone deserved to have rights no matter who they were and that physical and verbal assault on a person regardless of their sexual orientation was NOT OKAY! It was not only a welcome relief but lead me to believe that this past year I have been given the exposure and platforms I have not only to entertain but to educate and speak up.

This let me know that perhaps I had to speak up more. I now crack down on people for any sort of hate speech in the chat as well as during their broadcasts. This is hate speech directed at women, minorities or anyone telling people to “smack a bitch.” To my surprise these kids have listened to me. While I could get on a soapbox and toot my horn which I am in effect doing now it reminded me that it only takes one person to speak up and to change things making the world a safer place for others.

My poppyseeds, as I have nicknamed my young fans, have written to me on various occasions for advice whether on mundane dating problems or more severe issues facing young people.  It is not only flattering that they reached out to me, but a blessing that they consider me a role model. I have also received countless letters this year from lots of young people and not only do I love hearing about my young fans but also like to know that I am helping people. Whether it’s letting someone know that even though they are being bullied for being different it gets better. Or letting that person know who was a victim of dating violence that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Or better yet, a trans person who saw my show and was thankful someone like myself gave someone like them a safe, welcoming place to show the world that they weren’t some freakish being but a person like everyone else.  Bottom line, my job has become much bigger than telling a few jokes and entertaining.

Now I know I am doing the right thing by speaking up and letting people know what is and isn’t okay. Every once in a while I have to tell people even joking about dating violence isn’t okay and that it is an issue for anyone regardless of orientation, gender or race. I have to remind people words and slurs are hurtful and encourage not only harassment of marginalized groups. Will I lose friends? Perhaps. Along my travels I already lost a few but at the same time have gained many true supporters and fans. Then again, as I recall not everyone liked Nelson Mandella for speaking up. That’s why they threw him in jail.

If at the end of the day someone calls me a “militant feminist” because I come down on deadbeats who abuse women so be it. If someone calls me sensitive because I lambast someone for homophobia, transphobia, racism or any other form of hate speech so be it. It lets me know I am doing the right thing and am making the world a better place. If that makes me crazy to some people oh well. There is not a reward for doing the right thing only knowing that you did it.

Oh and watch my show Confessions this Sunday night from 8-10 pm EST on younow.com’s talk 2 channel. See you there xo April

Tales of the Dead Beat Daddy

For the past month things have been crazy at Casa Brucker. I had an attempted comeback of an ex fiancé, my house burglarized and other bizarre things happen in a span of six weeks. One was getting involved with someone I will call Ross. Ross isn’t his real name, but he shares the same first name as one of the men who appear on one of the many dollar bills this broke ass nation has but my mind does draw a blank on the denomination.

Anyway Ross was my polar opposite. While I had graduated from NYU Ross had taken his GED and was currently working as a mechanic. My parents had been rather strict wanting me to study and wanting the best for my future. Ross’s folks on the other hand were rather absentee drug addicts. Nonetheless he was smart, easy to talk to, and the shoulder that I cried on when things ended with the celebrity. Ross was a welcome change from the celebrity too. Unlike the celebrity he treated me like a lady when we went out, didn’t humiliate me in swanky joints and hell, he even sent me a text once when I claimed I looked like road kill that on a scale of one to ten I was a twenty.

My first time truly hanging out with Ross was magical in a way. We had coffee at Starbucks. I said all I wanted was for a boy to buy me a Pumpkin Spiced Latte and Ross informed me that he was a genie and I could get two more wishes. He also said he didn’t think I would be as cool as I was. The first time he met me I was giving a female friend hard and fast advice on a guy and it was slanted as a bit anti-male. Then again, most men view advice by someone who is brutally honest not slanted in their direction as anti-male so I didn’t take it personally. But I was rather relieved that he didn’t think I was a battleaxe.  We also bonded over the fact that he supposedly lost the love of his life to a heroin overdose, and I lost Roger and Joe, two friends who meant a lot to me, to drugs as well.

I later went to finish my soon to be released song at the house of Liz Taylor’s grandson in law. Ross sent me a text to make sure I got there safely. Then he sent me a text telling me he had a question for me. I wanted to know, what was the million dollar question. He called me when I got home and asked me out.

Ross took me to see Rum Diaries because I revealed to him I was getting ready to publish a book. This excited Ross that he was out with a smart girl. He said he didn’t mind me being smart because I knew things about books and literature and he knew all about cars. I know nothing about cars. Hell I don’t even drive. Living in Manhattan has been my get out of jail free card for sometime. People who could fix things have always fascinated me, having a skill I lack. To me smart and stupid are dangerous labels because that is an intelligence all of it’s own.

But to Ross it was cool I was “smart” and knew all about history. Most guys consider that a turn off. The celeb that I dated thought it was cool. Then again he had studied to be a rabbi. The quasi boyfriend I had before that had no feelings either way about my intelligence or lack thereof at times. After all, there are occasions when I turn my brain off and do something completely and utterly stupid, and yes my behavior does deserve the label in those instances. My last boyfriend was very book smart and was proud of the fact I was a reader. However one of us could tell the truth and the other couldn’t which ruins all relationships. And then their was my fiancé, who had a complex over the fact that I went to college, NYU of all places. Although I went for artistic endeavors, my course load was still very academic in nature. Whenever my fiancé got something right and I didn’t he lorded over me the fact that he never went to college and was still smarter than me. My fiancé was such a master manipulator that eventually I became convinced men didn’t like smart women and just shut my brain off.

For sometime I went out of my way to act stupid turning my brain off completely. I dated the worst guys and had friends who were abysmal, complete with being over the age of twenty five and having a pop music ring tone sort of. The stupider I acted the more it seemed they liked me. Gone was the ten year old who read Wuthering Heights and basically had a college reading level in the fourth grade. Temporarily in a coma was the Geography Bee qualifier. But then as time went on my last boyfriend wanted the brain and I didn’t want to give it to him because why? I was scared he would shut me down for even having one. Then here comes Ross, the mechanic with the slicked back hair who probably spent more time in front of the mirror than I did who thinks it’s the most extraordinary thing in the world that I read and know useless historical information. Although I was not looking for a boyfriend this was heartwarming.

As a result I found myself opening up to this mistake. Sure he was wrong for me but define right. I dated a celebrity who was well known, well educated, smart and got his jollies off of saying rotten things but still appreciated the fact I was a reader. Before that was a semi-celebrity who was clingy, obsessive and needy as well as self centered. Of course there was the lawyer, the other lawyer, and the millionaire who all looked good on paper but were rotten liars that were married to money and status. Oh and then the ex fiancé who offered to kill his mother to get the insurance money to be with me. Compared to all of them Ross was a treat and regularly told me how beautiful I looked. Plus unlike the much older celeb he had the potential of libido. Above all things he was easy to talk to and didn’t judge me. Plus I had friends who talked well of him. Right away I trusted him. Maybe he wasn’t going to be a boyfriend and he vocalized that he didn’t want a girlfriend but I didn’t mind having a good friend I could talk to.

When we hung out Ross and I recounted the mistakes we made in our lives and he opened right up to me about the chaos that used to be his. That’s when he said that for as chaotic as his life got he could say one thing for himself and that was that he had no children. I laughed. I thought good thing. The celeb had been a dead beat daddy with a very ugly paternity suit and a Baby Mama who had harassed me repeatedly during our brief courtship. Plus I have dated men with children. You always have to meet the miscreants who are poisoned against you by Baby Mama. Either way this was a relief.

Being a lawyer’s daughter I googled Ross to see if anything came up. Sure enough his dead dad’s obit did. Ross had been close to his father and cared for him in the last year of his life as he battled cancer. In the obit it mentioned two grandchildren who were unnamed. At that moment it hit me that Ross had two kids he lied about not having. Then I thought, “Nah, maybe they are his brother or sister’s kids.” Ross had a younger brother as well as a sister who was deceased. Plus Ross seemed like an honest guy. So far he hadn’t lied about anything. He didn’t have a facebook either he said. Plus he seemed so trustworthy and all our mutual friends agreed he was.

After my house was burglarized and some other drama I reconnected with Ross after some stuff had happened that was rather complicated. Ross and I sort of reunited and somehow the subject of children came up again. That’s when he suddenly mentioned he had two. I told him he said he didn’t have any. He said when I asked he changed the subject which I know wasn’t true because I was there and remembered the convo. Nonetheless he mentioned he had the kids with a sweetheart when he was young and she moved them to Florida with her folks. He also said it was a painful subject for him because he married her and tried to work it out but they were young and drama happened. Ross had also gone through a few rough patches of his own so perhaps it was better the kids were with their grandparents. Ross showed me photos of his girl and boy who were adorable and mentioned his daughter had high functioning autism but was doing well and was in cheerleading and that his son was a gear head like his dad. I asked if he and Baby Mama were on good terms and he said that now that they weren’t together they were actually friends. He mentioned wanting to visit his kids but not being able to. I appreciated the honesty and thought that perhaps he had hidden this because he mentioned his last girl had issues with the fact he had kiddies.

The next time Ross and I hung out I brought up his fib about his children and he again tried to dig himself out of the grave he already created by informing me he remembered the conversation and I said illegitimate children. Meanwhile one kid was born before Ross and Miss Lady went to City Hall to get married so that technically is a child out of wedlock. Nonetheless I figured maybe he thought I would shut him down. So Ross mentioned he had a facebook where he kept track of his children and looked at their photos. Meanwhile this was someone who said he wasn’t on facebook. So Ross friended me.

Being a lawyer’s daughter I decided to check out his ex/Baby Mama. While she didn’t seem like she was swinging from the Genius Tree, she seemed like she was trying the best she could with what she had to be the best mother she could be. In her bio she mentioned she was “the cliche teen mother to the cliche teen father who turned out to be the cliche deadbeat father.” My mouth dropped open. Sure this woman might have been bitter she didn’t get what she wanted. Nonetheless I had also encountered Ross, who claimed he didn’t have children, then suddenly did, that he was on good terms with his kids mother and suddenly he wasn’t. The liar ball was now in his court and it was making me ill that I even gave him the time of day.

To make matters worse I went on her myspace and saw she had written a blog about Ross and how he had not seen his son since the child was one. And now his son was asking questions and that Ross had been such a deadbeat that the son’s grandparents lied and said that he had died in Iraq fighting for his country just to get the asshole out of the picture. Oh and then suddenly when the kid was six Ross decides that his progeny mean something and that they aren’t just lines on the family tree and suddenly sent presents. Sure maybe his kid’s mother was a great many things but she was the more responsible parent. She had been forced to grow up right quick and end her partying days while Ross could take his time, sleep til noon and ride his skateboard all he wanted. The fact that he had sired two children and furthermore was a deadbeat not only made me sick as an activist for women’s rights but sick as a woman myself. Not to mention if he had concealed these two children how many more was Senor Not Worth My Spit hiding? Worse yet, he felt no guilt or remorse about not telling the truth therefore what else had he lied about? What else was he hiding? How many other ways could he possibly hurt me?

I found myself exploding on facebook and Ross texted me, misspelling as usual telling me not to believe everything I read. Meanwhile I knew he had lied so I was more inclined to believe the woman who’s life he had ruined. I basically let him have it via text and then when I saw Ross blocked me on facebook before I could block him I had to laugh. Either way it was hard to believe someone I trusted could turn out to be so untrustworthy. I didn’t have an issue with the fact he had children. I had an issue with the fact he lied about children and lied about everything else.

Last night he sent me this text accusing me of giving out his number because apparently someone was making harassing calls his way. Despite what he thinks it wasn’t me. It was probably someone else he pissed off along the way of his idiot adventures. But looking back he wasn’t who I thought he was. He saw me as someone who worked a lot, was very lonely, and had been hurt a lot by men. Therefore, being the sewer dweller and belly crawler that he was Ross moved in on this and used it to his advantage. He knew I needed comfort and basically used it as a way to move in for the kill. He ruined one woman’s life by strapping her with two children he is not financially responsible for and doesn’t care about. He probably stuck the needle in his arm that killed his dead girlfriend, that is, if this woman is not some made up story to worm his way into my life. Either way, thank God for the internet or else perhaps I would have signed on to be the next victim of a life ruining, child making, paternity denying Johnny Appleseed.

Looking back the novelty of Ross was wearing off. He wasn’t a reader and wouldn’t have fit in to my world of intellectuals, social climbers, celebrities and those who love politics and current events. He was at the bottom of the bell curve and perhaps the lowest common denominator. For a wrinkle in time I thought I could ride this merry-go-round and for an instant it was fun. Now it’s time to return to Earth. I am not angry because what’s the use? I am not sad because I have been down this road and find myself rather fluent in lying man. Actually disappointed is the word. I expected him to screw up and knew he had baggage but I didn’t expect a pile of wreckage dung his high and his smelly. Not to mention I gave him my trust and friendship and he lied to me. I have had a good year with so many knives in my back I lost count. Now he just stuck another one in, and this was someone I trusted. But then one must remember in the book of Genesis Adam and Eve trusted The Serpent and we all know how that turned out.

But perhaps Ross, who I consider most abhorrent not only because he is a deadbeat but a liar, had his purpose in my world. He got me to be “smart” again. He got me to “use my brain.” More than anything he was proud of me for going to a top notch university, reading, writing a book and doing the things I did with puppets. Perhaps he was helping me return to the old April, the one who was fun and dorky and a little awkward.

Hey, it’s a positive I have to remember as I do the more adult thing of deleting his texts rather than verbally lambasting this child creating anti-responsible Maury Povich bound dickhead giving him a piece of my mind. Love, April

Closer to Fine (Indigo Girls)

For the first time in almost three weeks I am starting to feel like myself again. Despite being burglarized, my life is starting to achieve some modicum of normal again. Still the after effects can be felt all over me. It’s being invaded and you never feel the same. Suddenly you want to quadruple lock every door. Then you just get so angry that you work just to have a few things and some people feel the need to take them.

The crazy thing is, I think I know who did this to me too. I wont go into too much detail but I know who it is and can’t lawfully prove it. Sure I could take justice into my own hands. But here’s the thing. I hate dealing with cops when I am a victim, imagine how nasty they can be when you are a suspect. Then again don’t get me started on how victims have no rights, criminals have too many, and white people who can afford the deceased Robert Kardashian have it all.

During this period things got complicated with a friend of mine. Yes he is a ladies man but maybe he is less of a ladies man than I thought. Actually he was quite lovely. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have gotten through his disaster. Unfortunately he took a job in Utah at a ski resort. While he wanted to do the long distance thing I pulled the plug. I let him know if things change I will reconsider. But all and all I left with the notion that perhaps I need to chill out. That all men weren’t evil demons determined to make my life miserable by making me their prisoner in an ivory tower of our own doom and destruction. Rather they were breathing beings with thoughts and feelings. And for the first time in a long time I felt like I could love again, like my heart wasn’t a solid ice box.

On the other hand there is still a part of me that is an alley cat, that wants to roam free. One guy I hung out with said he could make me fall in love and get attached but he would never get attached. I wanted to laugh. I knew under that macho bullshit he was fixing to play a game with me. At the same time I am a child of the night, a force of wind and fire. I don’t get attached. I haven’t been faithful since my ex fiancé. Every guy since then I either verbally assaulted because they deserved it or just couldn’t bring myself to stay faithful. Men eventually cheat and always think about it. I figured why not join the party? It’s a way to live that is more true to nature. Humans are the only ones in the animal kingdom that waste their time with the stupidity of feeling.

The good news is that I am back on YouNow again. I was away from doing shows and missed everyone. Sunday’s show was tough. A lot of it was that I have been away and the population on the website has shifted. I always got along with the little Brit kids but the Americans that didn’t have left. As a result of the influx of newbies many didn’t know about my show. Then of course the talk two tab is new. While Sunday’s show had a wonderful spread of new people I felt tired from all the drama and it reflected. Plus I just cussed some folks out earlier on the air. I got some shit but hey. I got thirty new fans as a result.

Monday morning I got an email from someone associated with YouNow about how my show seemed to lag because it hadn’t been on. Perhaps they had picked up on the anger I was feeling. Perhaps they picked up on my tiredness. Perhaps it was that this show wasn’t so well planned. Perhaps it was just time to get over it.

Then I realized that I had a lot going for me. For one I have my Poppy Seeds aka my fans who are all young kids who seemingly look up to me and watch me on younow. They missed me and am glad I am back. The best kick in the head was that I realized for as much as I want it to be things aren’t always about me. It’s selfish for me to have my own pity party plus bounce house while my fans depend on me for inspiration. They need me to be positive. They need me to be there for them, letting them know that if they run into a bully that its not a reflection of them but rather the bully and it’s going to be okay. Plus I also have to make my shows fun and exciting no matter how tired I get. And for as tired as I feel the people at YouNow appreciate my hardwork and effort.

Not to mention this week my episode of Pig Roast With Otto and George premiered on bashboxtv.com. Not only did I get to share air time with the very sexy Wild Cherryz who make me sexier just by second hand smokiness, but I got to work with Otto Petersen, a ventriloquist who is not only legendary but one I look up to. I remember working with him when I was only twenty and he asked if May had a last name. I said no. He said it was important that she have a last name because it would make her more real thus she was Christened May Wilson. Now all my puppets have sirnames. But it was cool working with Otto and I received lots of compliments on the episode.

Then I was on Anthony Bourdain’s new show on the Travel Channel. My gay cop puppet Officer E made his television debut. Actually his full name is Officer Edward Eduardo Edwardsen but he prefers Officer E. Anyway he agreed sushi was too expensive in NYC and he is looking for a rich husband. Look out May Wilson, you may have some competition for the diva chair in the Legendary House of Mama Foxxx. But the crazy thing is, everyone and their mother has seen the episode but I have not. My mother is in the process of tevoing it. I have been on TV a lot this past year and everyone always says to me, “April, saw you on TV.” And they asked me what I thought of it and then I say, “Wait, I was on TV? Tell me all about it. No seriously, I don’t own a TV. Tell me all about it.”

I also did a show for a bunch of kiddies this weekend at a yearly holiday party thrown by a large law firm. The kids loved me, they loved me so much they wouldn’t leave. As a matter of fact they fought over who would hold the sign, who would be the reindeer who would do this or that. Instead of moving on to see the juggler they wanted more puppets. I had three half hour shows. Instead I just kept performing continuously for three and a half hours with no stop because people kept coming in and out, in and out. Then other kids kept coming in with their reluctant parents as hostages because good things were said. Of course then there were the older folks who were fascinated by ventriloquism and wanted to see it. Soon other entertainers were coming in the room because the kiddie traffic was coming my way. While I loved the adoration of my fans and my bosses informed me that I would be back every year because I was so loved I was tired.  I hadn’t done this since my days as a street performer, a career I stopped after a near deadly attack from a psycho homeless dude. While it was fun I forgot how it just made you exhausted. In my sleep I can still hear, “More puppets! More puppets! We want more puppets!”  Tats when I sceam, “NO!!!!”

Then of course I got a fan letter from a retired soldier who saw me in a flick I did two years ago called Lullaby about street performers. The letter was a little crazy but very sweet and he requested a fan photo. I read this to my  friend who had a laugh and we both agreed to call the cops if he showed up at my door with a copy of Catcher in the Rye.

I also found out a year ago when they were talking smack on me on a radio station a comedian I look up to and respect from my hometown who is now making good  called in and defended me. I was like wow. Not only is this guy funny, but he is a Yinzer just like me. I will give you a clue about who it is. He is on the show Mike and Molly. Won’t tell you who he is or what he does but it was enough to let me know not only do people who count know how hard I work but that my hard work is counting for something.

Last night I celebrated my new locks by going kickboxing. However my new locks worked so well  I couldn’t get in let alone any thief in the night. Crying I called my super and called my friend. I also got to meet and befriend a new neighbor. I called my friend Frankie bemoaning my fate asking why the universe wasn’t giving me a break. That’s when he told me I needed to take the bad with the good. While it was hard I took Frankie’s word for it. He’s been through a lot and seems wiser than someone who’s twenty nine. God only knows he has lived a lot more.

Then I thought about it as my super fixed my door. My life was good. Heisman Weekend is fast approaching and I will be part of the festivities. Sure my life was having a rough patch but with the bad there is always the good. As my super fixed my door and I watched my episode of Pig Roast he came over and saw me on screen. Not only did I look different but he informed me he didn’t know I even did that. And he also confessed he had always been a fan of ventriloquism.

God often speaks through my mother and I was ranting about wanting revenge on the person who burgled me and she informed me the best revenge was not putting them in a ditch but living well. And I am living well. Plus it could have been worse. When my mom was burglarized she actually walked in on them. Or they could have killed me. Or they could have taken everything. But they didn’t. My locks are fixed, I have good friends and above all things I feel safe and like April for the first time in forever.

I am going to continue to rock my way up and out. As I told my Mom a year ago that this wasn’t the end but only the beginning. More on the book and the single I am dropping soon as well as a soon to be music video. Until then, watch me this Sunday night from 8-10 pm EST on Confessions on YouNow.com’s Talk Two Channel. This week’s topic is Worst Christmas presents ever. Hope to see you there xoxox April