Friday, April 5, 2013


I have been in a rut the last few weeks. Granted, it has been sort of my own shit coupled with familial drama and cosigning my own shit. Not to mention Wednesday at work was real rough. Just some phone drama. Long story. Dont feel like talking about it. My boss is a great man though. Still just the usual BS.

Yesterday I reached a whole new low when I just wanted to walk into the freaking river and disappear. Not drown. That would involve death and a funeral is a pain in the ass to plan. I would just disappear into the sunset with a sign nailed to my door that read, "Dear Asshole, April has gone away never to return. If you want to find her, go fuck yourself."

As I just felt this hellacious depression akin to death set over me I found myself in a convo with my friend. This particular friend is a good soul who knew me when things were starting to get rough in my life. We fell out of touch cause that just happens sometimes and a lot happened in between. But the planets and stars aligned and our paths crossed once again. I mentioned something and then he ended up innocently pressing me for details and I ended up revealing a part of my life that he doesn't know about. Mind you he is a true friend and didnt judge me. But it just felt awkward.

That is where the shame set in. I still remember being POW skinny and a mess. With me tethered was a psychotic ex fiance who happened to be stalking me at the time. When we were together I was his punching bag. I remember the sunglasses and the coffee and how I just let that SOB run my life. I remember how he told me him or the puppets. I remember how I had to get a different mailing address. Oh and then my mom had his name on the refrigerator in case I disappeared. Then there was the promise he made that he would kill his mother to get her insurance policy. That way we could set up house. Yes, want to know more details? Want to know how he used to harass guys I was dating after we broke up and how my life became a nightmare? Didnt think so. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

I have written and performed about that part of my life quite a bit. It still doesnt make it go away though. The walk down memory lane was weird. My buddy meant no harm. Again he didnt judge me. I was pointing the finger and calling myself names like I always do when this happens.

Then I realized I was out of that part of my life. It is the past. There is only two ways I could let it haunt me. Is if I have a nightmare, which happens from time to time when the ex is chasing me, or if I let history repeat itself. Some people do and others do not.

I remember turning twenty five and thinking my life was over. To me it was old. Actually I was surprised I lasted as long as I did. I had a meltdown on that birthday and then took charge of my own life. I started performing my own one woman shows and made some funky puppet videos with gay celebrities. I still remember Michael Musto greeting me in his pajamas. That summer I drafted my first novel. The following year saw me on TV with my puppet children, making more videos, broadcasting on the web world wide, and surprisingly recording music. Twenty seven saw a number one song online and the publication of my book. Not bad for an old woman.

So far twenty eight has been fruitful. My book is getting into stores. I am possibly doing a book talk at an Ivy League University. On top of that Mensa said my book was a must read. The audioversion of my book is nearly finished. While my voice will forever haunt Archie and Anthony, it is a project that has been worth doing.

My problems today are that a certain store has the online version instead of the online and the print version of my book. My problems are will my musical, one woman show, and screenplay be picked up? Will my crush who is employed like me back? Will my composer be able to tolerate the fact I am so dyslexic when it comes to reading music?

And then the crisis of faith at the career level? Where to go next? To act again seriously? To pursue the music thing? To write another book? To try to pursue the standup again? To webcast again?

Bottom line, these are luxury problems. I have come a long way from who I used to be and where I used to be. When in doubt I always have to remember these days I am present enough to be employed and that I am not a stinking shit mess of drama. My life is really good. It is my decision to influence how happy or miserable people and external forces make me. If I keep going in the right direction not only will I be where I want to go, but I have a fighting chance of going further.

Yes, I am grateful.


I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN

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