I am feeling a mix of spring fever and tired that I get this time of year. Some of it is allergies, some of it is that I constantly want to run outside and play because the winter has been so bleak. It was the kind of winter that Sylvia Plath committed suicide in during her stay in that flat in London. It was the kind of winter that Emily Dickinson wrote some of her most brilliant death poetry. Okay, lets stop with the sad, maudlin stuff. Seriously.
The good news is the depression has worn off. There was one thing that happened yesterday though. My mom fell and broke her wrist in two places. It was dark, she was jogging at 4 am and Mouse Cupcake who stands barely five feet tall and weighs a little over ninety pounds slipped on the driveway. She gets surgery this morning. The whole thing terrified the hell out of me. Part of it was the loss of my grandmother a few months back made me realize I might too have to say goodbye to my mom someday. And when that day comes it will be so hard because she is my best friend in the world. Not to mention she is currently acting as my business manager. She gets CC'd on all my emails. I know, I am a rap star.
Anyway I have a lot going on. I have been pitching book talks to stores, Ivy League Colleges, and other event places. The other day I mailed three packages. There is something about doing the work that is both gratifying and also makes me procrastinate. Putting together packages is work, but writing a book and recording the audio version was really hard. One is satisfying, the other just makes me get led feet, like my arms and legs are a ton each. Still if I don't do it no one else will. Sigh, the downside of being an independent, hardworking, driven, ambitious woman against the world.
There is a large part of me who feels entitled. I always feel I work harder than anyone and everyone else. While the money situation has vastly improved, I always wish I had more. The next few days will be interesting. I just paid some people for some stuff and have some money waiting to clear. Thank goodness for tips and pocket change. But it does no good to worry. When the universe and I are aligned and I do the next right thing by putting one foot in front of the other things work out. There have been times in my life where I have been worried about where my next dollar is coming from. Where I didnt know when I would eat next. But it has always been okay. I have never lost my apartment, I have never starved. Still, does my bank account know how many times I have been on TV?
Just putting it out there God/Frank the Pink Bunny/Bob the Purple Gerbil/Florence the Black Drag Queen
Last night I talked to Archie and Anthony who are now editing my audiobook, poor things. With everything in place it should be ready Memorial Day Weekend. Some of it is the pay schedule I set up. Some of it is the extensive five hour content of this project. Some of it is that they have other projects, other clients, and occasionally would like a life every once and a blue moon. Anyway they called me around 11:30 last night. That meant they probably had been at the studio for several days and would not be going home.
After talking to them it hit me. Nothing is handed to us. We all have to work for it. My sound engineers are up all night. I get to go to bed. Those guys are far from lazy taking power naps in the studio. If you want in life you have to stop expecting the applause without doing the work. While I have never been a slacker, I sometimes I feel like a slacker as compared to the guys at the studio. But the whole thing not only made me grateful they were on my team but rather motivated me.
Anthony wants me to fix him up with one of my friends. There was one who would have been perfect but the catch is she is not biologically female and Anthony nixed that. While I figured he would you never know what a dude is into. Oh and there is another one that would probably love him so much she might accidentally kill him. On the other hand, Anthony would leave this world a very happy man. I only want the best for mis amigos. It is a Catch 22. While he is a gifted sound engineer it would make a hell of a story for my next book. I am a terrible friend I know. But still, he would have a good time and probably have the best sex of his life before he left the planet. That is what every man dreams of, right? But he has to live to finish my project. After that he can be sexed to death and I can attend the funeral with a smirk on my face.
I actually do know someone who was sexed to death. His name was Jorge. I remember he was a friend of mine from the hood and he knew my gaybors. I remember getting to Jorge's funeral and they asked me if I knew how he died because his death had been sudden. I said no. Jorge had been born in Colombia, attended Cornell, and worked in PR. What had happened? He seemed to be partying less. That is when my friend Tommy said, "He was getting his dick sucked by one guy, getting a black dildo shoved up his ass, and then someone was injecting him with crystal meth when his heart exploded." My jaw dropped open. I wanted to say, "Holy shit" but I was in a church. Afterwards everyone told me how sorry they were my friend was dead. I was like, "Nah, he died doing what he loved most."
Either way this gives me time to focus on my musical (Matthew Weber I have not forgotten about you). Also to do some promo for the audiobook as well as pitch a book talk. And finally just to embark on a misadventure with a long haired guitar dude. Okay, maybe not but it's warm and my judgement is gone as you can see.
So today I am sporting one of my favorite sun dresses in hopes of the sun coming out. If not screw you, Mr. Sunshine. I don't need you, cause afterall, I can throw shade of my own.
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Greenpeace
The good news is the depression has worn off. There was one thing that happened yesterday though. My mom fell and broke her wrist in two places. It was dark, she was jogging at 4 am and Mouse Cupcake who stands barely five feet tall and weighs a little over ninety pounds slipped on the driveway. She gets surgery this morning. The whole thing terrified the hell out of me. Part of it was the loss of my grandmother a few months back made me realize I might too have to say goodbye to my mom someday. And when that day comes it will be so hard because she is my best friend in the world. Not to mention she is currently acting as my business manager. She gets CC'd on all my emails. I know, I am a rap star.
Anyway I have a lot going on. I have been pitching book talks to stores, Ivy League Colleges, and other event places. The other day I mailed three packages. There is something about doing the work that is both gratifying and also makes me procrastinate. Putting together packages is work, but writing a book and recording the audio version was really hard. One is satisfying, the other just makes me get led feet, like my arms and legs are a ton each. Still if I don't do it no one else will. Sigh, the downside of being an independent, hardworking, driven, ambitious woman against the world.
There is a large part of me who feels entitled. I always feel I work harder than anyone and everyone else. While the money situation has vastly improved, I always wish I had more. The next few days will be interesting. I just paid some people for some stuff and have some money waiting to clear. Thank goodness for tips and pocket change. But it does no good to worry. When the universe and I are aligned and I do the next right thing by putting one foot in front of the other things work out. There have been times in my life where I have been worried about where my next dollar is coming from. Where I didnt know when I would eat next. But it has always been okay. I have never lost my apartment, I have never starved. Still, does my bank account know how many times I have been on TV?
Just putting it out there God/Frank the Pink Bunny/Bob the Purple Gerbil/Florence the Black Drag Queen
Last night I talked to Archie and Anthony who are now editing my audiobook, poor things. With everything in place it should be ready Memorial Day Weekend. Some of it is the pay schedule I set up. Some of it is the extensive five hour content of this project. Some of it is that they have other projects, other clients, and occasionally would like a life every once and a blue moon. Anyway they called me around 11:30 last night. That meant they probably had been at the studio for several days and would not be going home.
After talking to them it hit me. Nothing is handed to us. We all have to work for it. My sound engineers are up all night. I get to go to bed. Those guys are far from lazy taking power naps in the studio. If you want in life you have to stop expecting the applause without doing the work. While I have never been a slacker, I sometimes I feel like a slacker as compared to the guys at the studio. But the whole thing not only made me grateful they were on my team but rather motivated me.
Anthony wants me to fix him up with one of my friends. There was one who would have been perfect but the catch is she is not biologically female and Anthony nixed that. While I figured he would you never know what a dude is into. Oh and there is another one that would probably love him so much she might accidentally kill him. On the other hand, Anthony would leave this world a very happy man. I only want the best for mis amigos. It is a Catch 22. While he is a gifted sound engineer it would make a hell of a story for my next book. I am a terrible friend I know. But still, he would have a good time and probably have the best sex of his life before he left the planet. That is what every man dreams of, right? But he has to live to finish my project. After that he can be sexed to death and I can attend the funeral with a smirk on my face.
I actually do know someone who was sexed to death. His name was Jorge. I remember he was a friend of mine from the hood and he knew my gaybors. I remember getting to Jorge's funeral and they asked me if I knew how he died because his death had been sudden. I said no. Jorge had been born in Colombia, attended Cornell, and worked in PR. What had happened? He seemed to be partying less. That is when my friend Tommy said, "He was getting his dick sucked by one guy, getting a black dildo shoved up his ass, and then someone was injecting him with crystal meth when his heart exploded." My jaw dropped open. I wanted to say, "Holy shit" but I was in a church. Afterwards everyone told me how sorry they were my friend was dead. I was like, "Nah, he died doing what he loved most."
Either way this gives me time to focus on my musical (Matthew Weber I have not forgotten about you). Also to do some promo for the audiobook as well as pitch a book talk. And finally just to embark on a misadventure with a long haired guitar dude. Okay, maybe not but it's warm and my judgement is gone as you can see.
So today I am sporting one of my favorite sun dresses in hopes of the sun coming out. If not screw you, Mr. Sunshine. I don't need you, cause afterall, I can throw shade of my own.
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery GirlPaperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Greenpeace
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