Bitch (Meredith Brooks)

I am not one of those girls who always dreamed of her wedding. My dream has been my writing. Heck, I am been writing since I was a little girl. Of course then after that has been my ventriloquism and comedy. Never my wedding. I never went boy crazy. I had friends who would go to the sports practice's of their boyfriends to cheer them on. Usually I had too much to do like go to my part time job, work at the public access station, write my column for the youth section, or a rehearsal of some sort. Let's not forget a performance at a nursing home or daycare center. Basically, there was no man on my mind.

When I was younger I went crazy over a guy. We all do once. I went so crazy that I got drunk, told him how I felt, and threw up. Then I sobered up and realized he wasn't all that. It's true. It's called being nineteen. The worst part is that some women continue down that road. The road of being needy and pathetic. The road that basically gives a boyfriend or husband the unwritten permission to cheat. You are smothering him!

I have dated, was even engaged at one point. Hell I have been in love twice. Still, both times it ended and it was for the best. However, as a woman who speaks out on behalf of other women sometimes I feel persecuted by my own kind. My offense, being strong. Is it my fault I don't want to be a slave to a man, depending on him for every little thing? Is it my fault that I want to have a career and don't want to be tied down with children? Is it my fault that I don't have Barbie Doll dreams?

This past summer I took the helm on several projects. One ultimately fell apart when the man I was working with decided he was going to get on the April does all the work and he gives all the orders program. Anyway, his big excuse was he was getting married. He used this to shirk out of any responsibility he had. Oh and because his now wife wanted an exotic honeymoon beyond their means, he wanted me to pay for everything too. Needless to say after a huge fight we parted ways badly. In the midst of this, as I was ranting to a female friend I told her I didnt care that he was getting married. I had a deadline. Well meaning but not helping, she said, "April, you better cool down. You sound like a bitter, unmarried woman. Actually, you sound like a bitch."

This hurt. So I asked my hairdresser friend Joey who put it best. He said, "If you were a man, we wouldn't be having this discussion. You would be seen as an effective leader. But because you are a woman you are seen as 'bitter' or a 'bitch.'" He was absolutely correct. For doing my job I was the bad guy because I was a woman.

The double standard never ceases to amaze me. When male comedians denigrate their ex-girlfriends they are seen as funny. On the other hand, I am seen as bitter. If a male comedian gets on TV, they are seen as hard workers who paid their dues. Someone always thinks I slept my way there. If I don't fight for what I want I am a doormat. If I fight for what I want I am a fame obsessed wench who will succeed at all costs. And when I am a hoochie, coochie woman I am considered a whore. And when I standup for women I am considered a....let's say it again kids.....BITCH

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com

Air Conditioning

I finally have gotten off my ass and installed my air conditioning. After a whole weekend of procrastinating on every task ever, I decided it was time. I am hardly lazy, but the bug does bite me occasionally. I think it is because I work as hard as I do in this man's world without the evidence of tangible reward from time to time. I feel I am a slave to my gender from time to time as I get ahead and no one helps me. Guys want to see me as a sex object. Women want to be catty and jealous. I get tired of the rat race sometimes. There are occasions when I want to be homeless. Maybe live under a bridge where no one can find me.

As I was having this paranoid flash of memory I remembered all my summers on my own in NYC. I didn't have air conditioning for my first few years. It was hell. I managed though because that is what you must do, soldier on. I kept my underwear in the freezer which made some interesting finds for my roommates. I also would date dudes who had air conditioning. Truth, I really didn't like them. However, I liked their air conditioning. My friend Joe D cooked for me and we would watch gay movies. It was an excuse to sleep over cause he had air conditioning. And then Derek and Fernando had air conditioning, too. So yes, air conditioning all the way!

Being air conditionless hold a special place in my heart. In the summer of 2010 I wrote my book in the sweltering heat. I knew I had to. I sweated like a pig and drank plenty of water. Sometimes I even decided to write naked if I was home alone. From time to time the heat was so intense my computer would crash, and the keyboard was hot to the touch. But I cranked out the first draft of I Came, I Saw, I Sang.

Finally in 2011 I was living on my own for the first time ever. I decided in the spirit of the fact that things were beginning to happen with my career, my puppet children and I only deserved the best. So I decided to spring for air conditioning. I went to the store, ordered it, and a little Mexican dude named Paco delivered it to my house. He was nice and I tipped him five dollars. Afterwards, I was clueless as how to install it. I decided to keep it on my floor and was surprised when it created a flood on my floor. My guy friends offered to help me install it but I was like nah, I got this. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the help. As a woman on her own, I have learned how to do things without the help of men. So I installed this all by myself. I felt liberated, independent, and like I was entering a new era of self. It was a breath of cool air against the heat and pressure called my life. Not only did I have air conditioning, but I didn't need the help of a man to install it.

This elevated me to a whole new plateau. I was more self-sufficient. My early twenties had been spent chasing men who didn't want to chase me back. It had been spent chasing dreams that were finally starting to come true after sacrifice and watching my friends in the suburbs marry and pop out babies at an astounding rate. I wasn't some desperate waif who needed to be loved and was lucky if people gave her a break. Fuck that. I was a strong, independent woman and I had puppets.

Oh and then I had a back ache from installing the air conditioner on my own and had to lay down for two days.

So yes, now I have air conditioning. I was slow to install it this year because Mother Nature had been cray cray. It was so cold at the beginning of June I thought it was going to snow. But after procrastinating this weekend I figured perhaps the cool air would invigorate me. After all, I write for the Huffington Post. I am part of NYU and Brown Bookstore. Britney Spears and Mensa plugged my book. My new May is purrrffffeeeccct. I only deserve the best. And damn it, that means air conditioning!

xoxoxo
April
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
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center