Saturday, June 29, 2013

Feeling Weird

This is a weird time of year for me. A lot happened around this time six years ago that would take a book to get into, so I won't. I feel a mix of emotions. There is a part of me that feels so proud and so serene. And the other half of me feels fucking depressed.

I feel like just staying the fuck in bed and almost did Friday. Hell I slept for thirteen hours between Thursday and Friday. Some of it is I think I have been working a lot. Father's Day weekend I toured the tri-state in between the puppets and telegrams. Plus the telegrams have been keeping me busy. Before that I published in Huff Po, which was cool and was author of the week. And the website is almost up and the audiobook is finished and just needs music. It has been busy and maybe I am just tired.

Tuesday I was recognized by a fan which is crazy. I was walking along when these guys who work at some sound engineer school said hi and the one kid knew me as the puppet girl. I was like, awesome. It started when someone read the name April on my bag and the rest was history. Lots of young guys are putting the moves on me. It's like being in high school again, except this time guys are actually talking to me.

I find myself also with a lot of cool projects which is cool. Okay, my adjectives are so nondescript. One is a TV thing that is in infancy which is cool. Another is a possible piece for a bigger news source. On top of that the audiobook is coming out. Things are cool. On the other hand, none of it might come to anything. There is always this fear of being all and then being nothing at once.

As I struggle my way up the ladder, despite being a minor celebrity in some ways, I find the strike against me because I am not a white guy that looks like a Ken Doll. When I tell this to dudes in comedy they don't understand. I just feel like the white hederosexist male paradigm is standing on my neck. The women are no better. They are quicker to go Tonya Harding. Maybe I am obsessed with gender and gender roles lately, but woman is more than what is outside and inside but my political identity. As I get older, the role of woman in my personal and political life becomes more full. Sorry if it is too much for the world I live in. Sorry if I care about my reproductive rights and my safety when it comes to not being groped. SORRY!

I feel like hiding in some ways. I am not a Ken Doll. I am not a big breasted bimbiotic freakshow who earns her fucking career on her back. I am a hardworking career woman who is alone and pushes a bolder up a hill daily. Of course I get no metal. I am not running around with a bikini and a machine gun. Instead I have my words and they say I whine.

I have no idea what is next for me.

Maybe more comedy stuff. But again, I am kind of exiled from the clubs being a woman making it her own way. Not to mention I am not safe and bake cookies. In addition, I am not the ethnic group of the moment and I don't look like a Ken Doll. And as someone who doesn't live at the all you can eat buffet people don't assume I am funny. Oh and while we are on it I am not an annoying mom comic. So who knows?

Maybe more TV. But I am not a model. I am not going to be in Playboy anytime soon. The only thing America wants to see is some former beauty queen who never had a bad day in her life or some Playboy Model who can't speak but looks pretty. A safe woman for America...

Maybe some acting. But I am not stuck up with a twig up my ass and don't take myself so seriously. Plus I don't look like I am in constant pain.

Maybe more music. Well my radio stuff was an accident. I have cousins and friends who have real skill and my lack of talent is apparent as compared to them. Call it lightning in a bottle. But then again if I shake my ass like every tramp with a music video I too could be a soul train dancer.

Maybe more writing. But I am not a professional victim like most women writers, and I am not a fan of the habitual chauvinism of most male writers.

Who knows? I love when I write these trainwreck blogs.

Anyway, I am going to kick box. Perhaps I need to hit something. The Ken Doll boys are all looks. The model girls would break a nail. The female writers would write essays speaking victimese. The actors would cry. The comedians would make a bit. But in the end fuck them all. I can win a street

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, also through Brown and NYU Books
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Summer
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center


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