Falling in Love (Miami Sound Machine)

Spring is trying to happen. Winter is like that girl at a party that won't leave. You drop all the hints the party is over. You are taking the table cloth off. You are throwing away the empty plates. Hell, you are even turning on the TV and putting on your PJs and there she is. It's sunny outside but there is this wind. Yes, there she is. Winter, party guest that just doesn't get the hint.

I have been thinking an awful lot about love and relationships for some reason. It has been forever and a day since I had a man. The weather reminds of the last time I had a lover. Actually, he was like Tony Manero from Saturday Night Fever. A Brooklyn asshole and perpetual ladies man, he basically lied to me to get whatever he wanted and needed. Yet I found him funny and enjoyed his company. He catted around with anything that had a vagina and a pulse. Yet when I would mention another dude he would flip. I was out and about the other night when his name came up. Someone said they thought he was the best at what he did and admired his body of work. The whole notion made me want to vomit. Do they know he uses women to further his career? Do they know he hasn't been someone since 2007? Do they know I seriously did enjoy his company as I said before he transformed into his asshole self?

The weird thing is, I liked him a lot even still. Tony Manero has been crossing my mind an awful lot. Word on the street was he liked me a lot. But alas, he was a Brooklyn asshole. I did like him and thought maybe he could eventually turn into a boyfriend but that faded pretty quickly.

I also find myself evoking feelings for a friend of mine. Things got crazy between us for a minute. It was the type of thing where he could always read my mind. Kind of crazy kind of sort. I know this sounds like the diary of a high school girl. Anyway, he a major workaholic and is always on thin ice with his woman. Once I heard them talking on the phone and she was screaming at him. I mean yelling. It's not like he was sneaking around. No, he was working. And he was nothing like Tony Manero. Actually just the opposite. He was sweet, very sweet. Outwardly he is different than me. While he is quiet, he is far from shy. Anyway, we had been friends for a number of years and when he tells a story he is fantastically funny. Well a year ago it became apparent he was into me and I was into him. Needless to say, I don't think he was into me because he was into me. It was because he was on thin ice at home, I am more like one of the guys, and I was a woman with a pulse he could speak to.

Anyway, he had another friend who was kind of into me. I was kind of into his friend too who was a bit of a bad boy. Needless to say my buddy got a tad jealous and the two kind of got into it over me. I am not talking all out street fight but they were just doing that testosterone loaded bitchy snipping. Apparently his pal had a lady too. But it didn't stop his pal from catting around. These dudes, sigh.........

I heard from this buddy two weeks ago and he wants to hang out at some point. Maybe he is single. God I almost hope so. It's not that I dislike his lady, I actually kind of like her. I just feel like they are wrong for each other. Even if I didn't have a thing for him somewhat I would still feel that. She's really girly and really demanding. Who knows? Maybe my pal likes getting his ass kicked. I should have asked if he was single. Apparently they are having a party in a week or two. I will find out then. The whole thing was kind of strange when it happened because I didn't think this pal would have ever been into me. He is the type who really has his pick of the ladies when he is single. Plus he's had years to make a move. Who knows? Men are straaaannnnnnnnngggggggeeeee creatures.

The impending warm weather finds me wanting to have a romantic partner just to have nice dinner's with. That's what I miss about the last official Mr. April Brucker. He was a liar and had other downfalls but he knew a good place to eat. I just want someone to take me out to eat and to dress up for. Hell the weather reminds me of the first time I met him. I also find myself replaying the tape of that relationship and how I was just a horrendous girlfriend. Granted, we were also a terrible match. His current lady hates me. However, he was the first man I ever shared my dreams with. I want to drop him a line and tell him about all the exciting things I am doing with myself. About how I am doing all the things we always talked about me doing. Then again, his current fat whats her face has said some terrible things about me so that's not happening.

The other day a hottie from Turkey helped me carry my groceries to my door. That was nice of him, and he was a total young jack. I could have had a spring fling with him. Another guy I met on the street offered me a role in a porno. I wanted to know if the job had health benefits because one can get STDs doing that kind of work. He still didn't return my text.

There is a basketball court across the street from me. The other day a bunch of young dudes with spring fever were taking off their shirts and playing a spirited game. The yelling and cheering was so loud and had so much bro kick to it I could hear it in my apartment. Like a spooky person peering from her window I watched. Hell, I was a spooky person peering from her window.

I figured maybe I could meet my next dream man there. It's better than scouting the methadone clinic like I usually do for rainbow meat. Then I remember I am a broken toy with lots of baggage that has been dropped a gazillion times. I also think maybe I give people too much credit for being normal and don't give myself enough. Then I see the basketball game and realize they are all fifteen and just look really adult for their ages.

Screw the methadone clinic. I am going to the court house to look for defendants. They will appreciate my hot little outfits. Hey, they might not see a woman for the next 20 years and spring is coming up. And when that ends, maybe I can date their lawyer and live happily ever after. Until then, it's too cold for such nonsense. The dream of the fake lover boy will have to wait.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com
Come see me
Metropolitan Room
April 22nd at 7pm

Boys (Sabrina)

I don't know what it is, but this past week has been busy with the Dudeski's. After a summer that was dry in that department, I am making up for lost time. Last Saturday I was just chillin with some friendski's when I saw a guy who is from time to time my angel in the neighborhood. Anyway, we ended up chilling and he kissed me. I was like WOWSA! LONG TIME SINCE A DUDESKI KISSED ME!!!!

It was like the rainbow bank had broken open and all these stars were coming out. Okay, not that dramatic but it had been a while. So Sunday we ended up hanging again and McMakin out in the park like teenagers. I haven't heard from him since. Just as well. I am a busy woman anyway. He was cute though.Oh and he thought it was neat I did ventriloquism.

The sense of loss was not long because Monday I did a show at Lucky 13. This dude who was half Dominican and half red neck was checking me out. I have seen Dominican spliced with lots of things but never red neck. His dad is from DR and his mom is from Alabama. I promised myself no more Latinos because it always ends in disaster. Clearly he and Mother Nature didn't get the memo. After my set this puppet groupie kissed me.

And then we went outside where we McMadeout!!!! Yes, two in one week. God I feel like a Slutina. Anyway, he has never been to jail, has never had a drug habit, and has no children. Must be the white boy in him. But that white boy is a red neck and he might be his own grandpa and he may have been abducted by aliens. I am not patting myself on the back just yet. Well he called me the next day and apparently he sells real estate. Hmmm.....We have been texting back and fourth. He is on the cute, shy, awkward side. I like.

Of course his friend was buying me sodas all night and stuff. And he too wants to get together for drinks. His friend is quieter than he is, but I like him too. I didn't make out with his friend though.

Yes guys cheat and lie all the time but they make me McGiggle.

Or in the words of Sabrina and her song and that so gay announcer with the deep voice, "BOYS!" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qh_lB4xHqWw

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

Asinine Dribble on a Sunday Night

Today I went to the studio to record. I am sure Archie and Anthony are glad my audiobook is almost done. While they probably enjoy my company, my voice that sounds like a mix of Minnie Mouse and Mae West with a bizarre twang from no where is haunting their dreams. I can see it now, they are taking their one day of sleep and there they hear my voice as they close their eyes. And there I am in my usual recording studio clothes, sweats and looking like I rolled out of bed. Actually most of the time I have.

During one of my many pee breaks which I take a ton cause all I do is drink coffee, tea, and water, especially now that I have been sick, I saw this hottie female artist coming in. I mean, she looked good. She was all bestyled and slick. Immediately in my brain I called her every terrible name in the book for looking so hot. I mean, I am there to work not to get a date but still I felt like the fat chick in seventh grade again. In my head I assured myself she wasn't as smart and as funny as I was. Ripping her up in my head felt good. Did she know I went to NYU? Did she know I wrote a damn book that was reviewed by Mensa? Did she know I was a smart woman who needed no man unlike this thing who probably manipulated men?

 I took a deep breath and told myself to stop being such a bad clothes wearing, bitchy, smarter than the rest of the world, female writer. Women are terrible when it comes to each other. A minute later I introduced myself and spoke to her for a few minutes. She was really sweet. My bet is she has a great voice and will make a great record. Where was this terrible wench coming out of? This girl was perfectly fine. Gosh, when April is all work and no play she can be a very bitter woman. Maybe April the Female Writer is April McNoFun.

After I left the studio I swung by one of my old haunts to see a crush of mine. For weeks I have been making subtle moves to get my attention and he has been all chitty chatty. Needless to say, I was ready to make a move, maybe make a coffee date. That is when I saw him talking to this thing with badly dyed blonde hair and this low cut number. YUCK! I felt like crying on the spot. Then I remembered I never even told him I liked him. OOPS.

It's weird for me when I have a crush. I can never tell someone how I feel. I just want to give them a little note that says: "Do you like me? Check yes, no, or maybe." It is really tough for me to talk to guys. I have always been kind of shy. When I was younger I struggled with my weight and maybe that is it. In middle school I was asked out as a joke and I couldn't believe a guy likes me for real. In high school I lost the weight but wasnt allowed to date, and the one time I got the guts to like a guy he totally didn't return the favor. Then there was the disaster fiance.

Yes, the disaster who was physically abusive as well as verbally and emotionally abusive. The disaster who said me or the puppets. Maybe that is why I hate the way I talk. My ex's friends used to make fun of the way I talked behind my back. Perhaps it's better that Mr. Perfect didn't return the favor. He had a great job and a great personality. I am just one hell of a shy hot mess. People say they wish they saw this side of me more often. But it is painful as hell...

That's when I realized for as much as I crushed on this guy I could never love him because there is a large part of me that still loves Holden. I still dream about him. It was tough to end that. We didn't have a fight. He didn't cheat. He never hit me. No, Holden was sick. He was a drug addict, an alcoholic, and bipolar that wasn't properly treated. Sometimes when I tell people about him they call him names. People say I should forget about him. I remember he texted me and said he had six months clean. Six months clean isn't enough people told me. A year or eighteen months maybe. But you can't help who you love...

I went to the pool to take a swim. When I got there there was a cute lifeguard minding the pool. He looked to be about nineteen or so and had this million, billion, mega watt smile. I just remember he walks over to tell me the lane is closed. But this is how the exchange went:

 Hottie: Excuse me, I am closing this lane.

Me: Duunnnnhhhhhh......Okkkkaaayyyy.

Then as I began my kicking in the pool I passed the hottie several times. He probably had some horrid ring tone on his phone. He probably had some same aged teeny bopper girlfriend who dressed in clothes similiar to that female artist who I hated in my mind but seemed so nice when I spoke to her. Actually his teeny bopper girlfriend was probably a loser. Oh well, in the back of my mind I thought of how to make my move, April "Cougar" Brucker. However, ten years ago I too was a lifeguard. Ten years ago I had dirty old men trying to seduce me into the steam room. Ten years ago I detested men like this. Now my mind was in the gutter. In my mind I had the bravado but as I said I am so shy I wouldn't know how to put the words together. So these are the scenarios I came up with.

Scenario 1- I pretend to be drowning in the pool so he is forced to save me. Then as he is performing rescue breathing I slip him the tongue. Yes, maybe he has the teeny bopper girlfriend but I am a real woman.

Scenario 2- I prance around in a really sexy bikini and bend over as much as possible intriguing his barely legal imagination.

Scenario 3- I actually get the nerve to talk to him and tell him all about my skill as a female writer and a ventriloquist and my singing telegram performing making it painfully desperate that I never get out very much thus scaring him away forever.

Scenario 4-I get out one of my puppets. Here is what the puppet says, "Hey Stud Muffin. April thinks you are really fly. Can she take you out for pizza? Despite our TV time we are really poor, but you are a lifeguard so you are super poor."

I glanced over again. He was texting, eyes off the pool in the event someone was drowning. Needless to say if he worked under my mother he would have probably been canned like Coca Cola. I bet you he was texting, "This weird old ass bitch keeps giving me the eyes. I bet she is desperate and I bet she plays with puppets and writes books and doesn't have a man." Sir, your bet would be correct. Now come to my Cradle of Love in five minutes so I can rock your world.....in my mind.

Okay, I need to stop while I am ahead. But rest assured there will be plenty of freestyle this summer. As I exited he waved goodbye to me and I was turning so red I almost walked into the men's rest room. But ooops, Hottie waved goodbye. Hottie the Errand Lifeguard. Bow Wow Wow. Get a hold of yourself April.

I stripped and went to the sauna. People get buck naked in there. They let the world see everything. Personally, despite some of the photos I have taken I am quite shy. I always put a towel over my lower half. There was one woman in there that was not very good looking. Then another who was hot as hell. The one that was hot as hell intimidated me. She had the perfect body, just like the girl my crush was talking to. Probably just like Hottie the Errant Lifeguard's Girlfriend. Just like that female artist who was so nice but so beautiful. Gosh I had wished she was mean so I could justifiably hate her. And sometimes I just wish I could sit in the corner with my Golden Girls style cheesecake and bury my feelings. Wait, that is what Lifetime Movies are for.

That's when I dried my hair, hid in my sweats, and cried to myself as I left. This guy stuff was too much. Why couldn't they like my sexy brain and creativity? It dresses in hell fire red lingerie all the time. It even comes with whips and chains. April Brucker however does not. She comes with puppets, punchlines, books, and costumes. Okay, it could still be kind of kinky but most of the time I am friend zoned unless the dude has a criminal record, drug issue, or mental health problem.

I went to get my halal food, chicken and rice. The cart has three guys working there and today the best guy was working. He prepared it perfectly. I felt better. Not pretty, not ugly, just tired after a long day in the studio. When I see that female artist I will apologize (in my mind) because now I feel like a totally jealous tool. When I see that ex crush of mine I will wish death upon him (in my mind) even though he and that ho he is cavorting with never knew how I felt. When I see Errant Hottie I will tackle him like a lioness on a fresh piece of meat (in my mind) as I work out like a well behaved health club member.

Sigh, time to do some work.
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
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN

Serotonin

A Happy picture of me and my Bo. Yesterday when he was late I thought he stood me up. Then I said, "oops, only  a straight boy would do that."

My sad and depressed pic. 

Lately I have been feeling depressed. Actually it started Wednesday when a callback I had for a job that is sort of in the bag but not really got moved. Part of me fears they are looking for someone better and giving me the runaround. The other part of me knows I am a good ventriloquist, but it’s like that little devil is on my shoulder. It’s weird because up to this point it had been a good week. I am part of a project where we are currently in touch with a hip hop legend. Then of course there were my not one but two press interviews I just did. Oh and then the pilot I was up for, they went in a different direction and won’t be using me.

Sure, when I signed on for  a career in show biz I accepted disappointments. Sometimes I am used to them. It’s a part of the game. Yet sometimes I just feel like a mess.

I know I am not one of the darlings. You know, the ones who live on easy street. Either way I am in a ton of physical pain. My life feels that it is falling apart. I am fucking dejected as all hell. I tried calling my mom yesterday and she told me she felt the pilot would be a reach because I dealt with the network before and they are flaky. But I was looking forward. My parade has been rained on. Why don’t we just add a hailstorm?

Then as if my life isn’t already falling apart Holden and I are over for good I think. It’s for the best but I still loved him. It sucks to lose the one you love. None of the other guys are like him. They are either too freaking pathetic, or they are just plain liars. I don’t care that he’s a fugitive from justice but perhaps he will have to face the law alone. But this fugitive stole my heart. I penned a country song. Lyrics to come later. The thing is though, I loved him and always will in a way. I know, I am a mess because he told me I was beautiful and smart. No guy has ever done that before :(

What’s next? Broken heart, no pilot, potentially no new show, potentially no celebrity interview, and broken heart already? Maybe I will get fired from the jobs I already have and be unemployed and then worse yet, get shot. Get shot? Could I really be that lucky? No, if I got shot I wouldn’t die. I would just be an annoying cripple and would have something else to bitch about.

Me and my gay husband Hassan. He doesn't get in trouble with the law, lie to me, or let me down. 

Maybe I should take my hits lying down like a woman. It works for the rest of the girls. When I say girls I use the term to apply to both genders because many resign themselves and accept being in the middle. They try to drag me to loser land with them, partially because they are so miserable that they want my esteemed company and partially because they are pissed I have had as much TV time as I have. Either way, I swing like a freaking man and am unafraid to fight one.

I think I have to stop blogging about my ex-fiance. He’s not a happy topic for me. My mother doesn’t bring him up because she knows it upsets me. I have been thinking about my time with him lately, partially because of my writing and video activism, and it doesn’t make me feel good. Actually, it has made me feel raw. I think it’s better that I ended it with Kindred Spirit because in a way he reminded me of the ex-fiance. Aside from being a judgmental mongoloid who couldn’t spell, like my ex he wouldn’t think before he spoke and was rather hurtfully blunt and played moral high ground when he had no place doing so. And the rules were different for him because he was a man. Unlike my ex, I don’t think his intent was to be hurtful for abusive.

But, like my ex, Kindred likes his bitches tattooed and trashy. What am I even doing calling these women bitches? I know many tattooed women that are so called trashy that are quite nice. And I don’t think again, that Kindred meant to be hurtful and abusive when he shot from the hip. Actually he wasn’t at all. It’s probably the South Brooklyn coming out of the boy. Either way, it was becoming all too familiar and I found myself lashing out at him for all the ex’s wrongs. So perhaps it was better that we parted ways before he became my whipping boy. Still I won’t be blogging about my ex anymore. It just makes me sick.

On top of that, with the weird weather my old injuries have been acting badly like Eric Roberts. Between my flagging career, my broken heart over Holden and my physical injuries I feel like getting a bottle of Jack Daniels and handful of perks and just calling it a day as I slip under my blanket.

Actually, that would all be a sucky idea because that would make me fat. Plus if I overdosed my beautiful puppet children would be without a mother. Still, think of what an OD could do for my career. Or maybe not. Scratch that. I wouldn’t leave a very pretty corpse if I were fat and bloated. My gay friends wouldn’t show up to the funeral on principal alone.

I have to focus on positive goals like finding an editor for my book and being grateful. Plus my mom invited me to the beach with she and my dad in two weeks. I think I am going to go, sun myself, get out of the smog.

Alas, time to start my day. Time to sing upbeat showtunes. Time to change my outlook. Time to get those brain chemicals in a happy place.

Love

April

PS. I saw a picture of a girl I hate and she got fat. Already smiling. 

May Wilson and I being happy. Thinking of this picture and smiling. 

Nice looking chocolate love bucket Trends Locario likes me but will be dating other women. I can live with that. He always counters my feminist rhetoric by saying something completely offensive. 

Performing at the benefit for Tom Finland. I picked that outfit out. It  makes me happy. 

One of my favorite photos of myself. That makes me happy.