Showing Up

Lately things have been busy with the career. I have had a lot of opportunities thrust my way. Many have to do with both the telegram job and the book, and some with the ventriloquism. A few even have to do with the straight up standup. It has been insane, rewarding, and stressful.

I will admit I am a born control freak. I have worked long and hard for everything I have in my career. For years I had the door shut violently on my finger tips for being different. I was too alt for alt. I was too female for female. I was too this or too that. Setbacks, closed doors, sexism, and whatever in the works. I suffered long and hard. Now that I have it, I want it to go perfectly. Translated, it has my claw marks. There is probably a head of development or two that thinks I am just insane. It happens, whatever.

I was never one of the fair haired favorites in the comedy scene who had the carpet rolled out for me. There is still a bit of a chip on my shoulder about that. I have been trying to get rid of the chip but it is something that as hard as you try never goes away. I know I am kind of one of the cool kids but not really. I don't know. I just hate the cliquish bullshit. Just like high school. On the other hand, I am getting farther than the idiots in the cliques and on occasion they have been forced to admit defeat to me after treating me like the fat, ugly outsider. I like doing my own thing. It rocks.

I talk to my old high school in a few days about writing a book. My whole time there I had big dreams and planned to conquer the world. I still have big dreams and am planning to conquer the world. I am closer than I was before. Some of my dreams have been realized, and I am closer than I have ever been to conquering the world. I am just hoping they don't look at me and think I am old and boring. They say don't trust anyone over thirty. I am getting closer and closer to that don't trust mark. I am talking to the class of one of my sister's former track teammates. This is crazy I know.

Time passes. Time is cool. Time is our friend. Part of me is scared I will never get where I need to go. That I will chase dreams forever that will never come true. That I will always be a creepy girl with a bunch of dolls. That for as much TV time as I get, for as much as I publish, for as many followers I have, I will always be an outsider. I will always just get an A for effort like the retarded kid that eats paint chips and wears a fanny pack.

Part of me is unsure and wants to know the five year plan. I want to throw my money away at some psychic who tells me I am not where I need to get because I have an evil spirit attached to my soul. I want to drink some liquid and hold some stupid rock to make the evil spirit go away. It is foolishness, but whatever. It's all fear.

Where will I be in five years? I thought ten years ago I would be somewhere different. If I would have gotten what I wanted I would have short changed myself. I would have never written my book, been on the shows I was, or did the things I did. I don't know. I thought I would be doing a shitload of theatre. Whatever. I like the TV time I have gotten. I like my book.

Part of me is excited to see what is next. I am showing up too hard to fail. It is just the way it is. I need to stop being scared. It is hard. I need to be excited, not scared. I know, this is crazy. Time for more coffee.

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

Writing Right

I haven't been writing jokes like I should be for a lot of reasons. One was when I left the club that shall remain unnamed by forever live in infamy in my mind, I expected to be picked up by a bigger club. Well other doors opened. My focus became my online broadcasts, my videos with my puppet babies, and my music. And then I wrote, rewrote, proofread, reproodread, rereprofread my book. Then I released my book. Oh and my book is 333 pages. And I cut the content. Believe it or not it was almost 666 pages. I know I am the devil.

I have been performing live a lot more now. Some of it is that I do miss performing. Yes I have my attitudes knowing that being a woman works against me no matter how talented I am in this man's world. But on the other hand I am funny and like making people laugh. So I want to start writing again.

This past weekend I did a good show. Emceed in East Haven and had a good night. I had not emceed on the road in sometime. In between being in almost famous land and writer land, an anti-social place, I had not done a fire hall show in some time. It was actually fun, but I forgot how emceeing is a work out. It's like you step up on the stage, and pray to God they laugh. It was a political fundraiser and I opened with a barb at the idiot Republican opponent. Okay, got them. But as I went on it was like wowsa, some of my stuff is pretty rough sometimes. I dunno. I need to write some new shit.

They liked May but some crowds don't know what to do with ventriloquism. It's like okay, whatever. They got into it but definately wouldn't have expected it.

Either way this weekend was an indicator that I need to write more jokes. My book is done and I know I can write. Now is time to write jokes.

In the back of my mind the chip on my shoulder is working overtime. I hate open mics because I have more TV time than many people there ever will. Not to mention I feel like slitting my wrist half the time when I am there with what I see and know as anti-comedy. I don't want to go back to the club I left seeing I put them on TV and gave them a ton of press where they thanked me by firing me. I want an A-List club but I am not a young male comedian which is ten strikes against me and I am not a fat, complaining woman which is five. I have a prop. Even when I don't I am a woman who speaks out against men. I am not pretty and stupid with my legs spread like a moron either and am not willing to blow my way at the top because men are vile when they feel they are jilted. I have had it in my personal life. I don't need it in my work please.

But there is one thing I can control. I can control being funny. I am funnier than most of those bitches, especially the mom comics that I deplore-yuck. No one cares about your kids ladies. I am more famous than the regulars at the club I got fired from. Touch that bitches. They say shit about how I get my TV time but I still have TV time and those bitches never will. Maybe I am not a male comedian but most of them are morons and my Mama didn't raise no fool. I am not a fat woman which maybe the clubs don't want me but the TV does, no one wants to look at a fat ass as she stuffs her face with ho hos. I have a prop and she is damn cute. They all are, Mama Foxxx has some pretty babies. I am a woman who speaks out and I am not sorry. While I am pretty I am not stupid and attempting to blow my way to the top because you can only blow your way to the middle. Ask any of the pretty unfunny regulars at most city clubs ;).

There is only one of me and a thousand of them. Good luck standing out because at the end of the day they remember me and forget you and your stupid, hipster, at, whining beard.

On the other hand, for as much as I talk shit I do want to write again and just don't know where to start. All the talented people around me have been inspiring me. Whether it is Elaine Williams and her positive attitude that just keeps going. Johnny Watson, one of the first true friends I made doing comedy, who's energy is unmatched and just gets upgrades for no money at all. Kevin Lee, who has been doing comedy for almost as long as I have been alive and is just awesome and makes me wish I could be that awesome. Chip Ambrigio who loves comedy and even does a podcast with his kid. Larry DiFelice who is funny and makes me laugh everytime he does Stewey. And of course Johnny Rizzo who is funny as hell off the top of his head and could improvise an hour with his mad genius. The list goes on.

The list humbles me. The list wants to make me write.

Take a photo of me in my sweats. I am good at getting on TV sometimes. But don't get too close. I am busy writing new shit. Girl has to think. And we know blondes don't do that. Actually we do. Just don't tell the horny men. It will ruin their vision of love.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available at 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
E-Book available at Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available in the Spring of 2103
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN