Sunday Girl (Blondie)

It is Sunday and I don't know what to do with myself. I should probably clean my damn bunker, I mean apartment. But it is much too nice outside. Usually my Sundays were spent in a recording studio with Archie and Anthony. It was like clockwork. I rolled out of bed, threw on my sweats, and off I went to read like a dyslexic. Okay maybe not that bad but I had my moments. Anyway now that my recording is done and the editing is in progress I am aimless.

Part of me feels like renting a black dude and Dominican for three hours, just because I have been spending every Sunday with a black dude and a Dominican. When I rent them I have to read my book, stumble over my words, and tell a story about a gay porn star friend of mine. The black dude will shake his head and the Dominican will be completely disgusted at the hot mess I call my life. Wait, it won't be the same. I might have to give them both commands.

There is another part of me that feels like brunching with my homos. I haven't done that in so long and it is getting warm again. It will be an excuse to sit outside, laugh, and just smile. I need to hear raunchy stories about their hook ups. JR is coming home in a few months. Perhaps we can get ourselves in trouble with an entire basketball team or something. Part of me wants a boyfriend. Part of me wants a fling. I am not sure but we can all McGiggle about everything. I need a brunch buddy damnit! Or I could brunch with the girls too. Hell I could brunch with everyone.

I feel like a junkie going through withdrawl in some ways. There is a part of me that has so much to do that feels tired. I have to do things for my musical but feel worn out. I don't want to do shit. Of course I need to clean my house. Don't feel like doing that either. I cleaned my bathroom. My common room and bedroom are like a World War II bunker minus the cigarette butts. Oh and then there is some book stuff but I feel like sleeping and hanging out instead.

I also feel lost and worthless. What am I doing with myself? Meanwhile I have just scheduled a book signing at an Ivy League College and got passed to the second phase in a TV pilot project. Not to mention I am writing a musical. But I have also been going through this streak where I have been as bitchy as hell. I find myself ripping on people and being jealous. I have no idea to do neither really. Thing is, I am used to being busy as hell. Now I am less busy and just don't know that to do with myself. So I am simply jealous that they are busier than I am, that's all. Meanwhile once my audiobook comes out and once I get the ball rolling with my musical I won't be able to breathe. Plus I have a huge signing coming up in a month.

I don't know what to do with myself. Already went for a jog. On my jog I saw a sign that was close to the name of the studio I spent all my Sunday's in. I was like holy shiznit. Either God, Allah, Frank the Pink Bunny, or Margot the Dominican Drag Queen is telling me everything is going to be okay, or I have been spending too much time at the studio. I don't know yet.

Maybe I will go brunch with friends whether they are homos or not. That way I can laugh, take a load off, and then I can focus on work. I think I have been working too hard and haven't been having enough fun. A brunch would be a good thing. Plus my body wouldn't hurt so much.

Maybe I will take a yoga class at my gym. Make some new friends and it will eliminate the bitchy streak in my veins.

But the bitchy streak speaks some wisdom. First things first being that if you name your child Destiny, you groom them for failure.

Nonetheless I named my blog Sunday Girl because I met Deborah Harry during my recording time and it was one of the coolest things to happen to me this year.

Anyway watch out for my audiobook and keep me in your prayers or chants or good vibes or whatever the hell you do. Eh, maybe I need to go to church. Haven't been doing that lately cause I have been recording Sundays. I dont know. I will figure it out.

Love

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 Greenpeace

Rhapsody (Blondie)

Yesterday was an adventure. After discovering Lauryn Hill's sound engineer had stolen my book and was reading it, I would step into the hall and have another encounter. This one with a complete legend. I had heard Deborah Harry was working on our floor and had rented out the studio next door. Archie told me about it and I was like, okay. He made me promise not to post it on facebook. So much for that right now. Anyway, I understood she was working and blah blah blah and so was I. While in my dreams I could be as cool as Blondie was back in the day I would never even try.

After a recording session that started late cause these things just do sometimes I stepped into the hall to run to the restroom. When you do a VO job a water bottle is your best friend and sometimes you just have to piss like a race horse. As I made my way to the wash room I saw these two tiny dogs run by my feet. They were sweet. I spoke to the dogs a little not cause I am crazy but screw it, people speak to dogs.

Just then I looked up and standing in front of me was Deborah Harry. She was making herself tea in the studio microwave and this is how the exchange went:

Deborah: Hi.

Me: Hi. Are those your dogs?

Deborah: Yes, they are cute, aren't they?

Me: Darling. Makes me want a dog. How old are they?

Deborah: One is six and the other is a rescue so I don't know.

Me: Well if I had a dog again it would be a Shepherd.

Deborah: Did you have a Shepherd growing up?

Me: Yes, it was my parents first dog. They got it before I was born because my mom caught two guys breaking into their house and my dad wasn't home. He got it for her so she would feel better.

Deborah: Good call.

Me: Yeah, it was their first kid.

Deborah: Dogs are like kids by the way.

We both laugh

Me: I'm April by the way.

Deborah: Debbie.

Me: As in Debbie Harry, the Debbie.

Deborah lets out a knowing smile and laugh

Me: I am such a fan. Not to sound like a dork but I love your music. Loved your remake of Rhapsody you did in 1998. So what are you doing here?

Deborah:  Recording a new album. All new stuff. It will be available on the internet in a few months.What are you doing here?

Me: Recording an audio book.

Deborah: What is it called? What is it about?

Me: It is called I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl. It's about my time as a singing telegram delivery girl in the city.

Deborah: That's cool.

Me: Yeah, laying tracks for it to be down on tape. Here, let me fetch you a card.

I run and fetch Deborah a card. She is still chilling in the hallway with her dogs.

I run out and hand Deborah the card

Deborah: Thank you. I look forward to reading it or hearing it.

Me: Thank you. I only wish to be as cool as you.

Deborah: A huh. But let me tell you, that is up for debate.

We both laugh and say goodbye.

I run into the studio

I see Archie

Me: I JUST MET DEBORAH HARRY AND GAVE HER THE CARD FOR MY BOOK! SHE IS SO COOL!

Archie shrugs

Archie: I just hope you didnt say, 'Bitch, I hope you werent the one who stole my book!"

We all laugh

End scene

In closing, once a substitute teacher remarked about how I looked like Deborah Harry. A mean girl then retorted that Deborah Harry was pretty unlike me. This was followed by, "And April doesnt matter."

Met Deborah Harry and she disagrees. But we both concur that you don't matter, bitch.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com for paperback
Ebook available on Kindle and Nook
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN