LOSER!!!!

About 2 years ago at this time, I ended a relationship with a mentally ill partner. It was a challenging decision, as my ex had been with me during one of the darkest episodes of my life. Yet when you are with someone who refuses to be medicated despite psychotic breaks that put you in not only emotional but physical danger, the choice is painful yet clear.

I was also in a legal battle with my then landlord. Rather than cure the issues with my apartment, he instead chose to torment me with the legal system when I called the city on him. Yes, I wasn't paying rent. But it was because my work property had been destroyed due to bed bugs and mold he refused to treat. Because of this, I could not book jobs. The property I did have was infected and being treated, so it was unavailable. As for the times I could work, I couldn't be present because of court dates and lawyer visits. My landlord was in court once a week himself for safety violations and he was no stranger to the housing court judges of New York City.

I was forced to move in a hurry after my landlord attempted to burn my apartment down while I was at a court date. He knew I was going to be away and sent his brother in his place. As this was all happening, my then ex was committed because his psychotic symptoms got to the point where he could not be in public. Apparently he had other legal issues he hid from me, but as these were being taken care of, his other behaviors could not be hidden. While I was grateful he was finally in a place where he was properly medicated, it didn't stop his friends and family from tormenting and threatening me.

A week after my move, I tested positive for cervical cancer. It was an awful time, especially as my mom was in town that weekend to help me move. I hoped I was sick and could just die. When I went to the doctor, he told me I wore my immune system down so badly from stress that it couldn't fight off infection. I had to stay well, eat healthy, and keep my stress level down.

Fortunately I have been healthy since, but it was one of those things that made me wonder what was next. Was an asteroid going to hit me and end this misery?

To top it off, my hair had basically fallen out. I styled it so people couldn't see my bald spots. Bed bug bites covered my arms. Sometimes my bites popped open and blood went everywhere. I looked horrid, and I had also lost an ungodly amount of weight. Ironically, this is when I started working with someone who became quite a mentor to me.

One evening, I was down on myself. I was trying to master my Donald J. Tramp routine and sent him a video. It wasn't coming together. Donny was on the wrong side. The jokes were all over. The notes were obvious. I broke down and started crying. I couldn't do anything right.

I told him I was a loser and not even to bother with me. This was useless. No one would ever hire me.  He immediately told me he was insulted because he was spending a lot of time guiding me, and he didnt guide losers so this made him a loser.

So the fact I was a "huge loser" became our running joke.

Slowly as I started to put the past behind me and laughed at myself, life got better. I mastered my routine with Donny. A year after my ordeal he was the spokespuppet of Stand Together Against Trump in Cleveland and was credentialed press at The Las Vegas Debates. We also showcased at APAP.

I also became a model for a clothing line and The Lady and President Tramp has run several times Off-Broadway. Last week, I found out it was chosen as a part of SOLOCOM, a festival through The People's Improv Theatre.

This week I began a workshop with The Onion I was invited to. I have read it for years and even submitted writer's packets always to get the rejection of a girl who passes the note to a hot guy only to have it end up in the trash. Now I am part of the Diverse as Fuck Festival. My teacher, a senior writer for The Onion, looked at me as we were giving introductions and said, "You had Donald J. Tramp in your packet."

Oh yeah!

This past year I not only began working as a spokesmodel for Sirenaz Crop Tops. This past week I was asked to take more photos. I also released a body positive, burlesque inspired comedy book. I look better than the death on a Ritz Cracker I did previously.

I am back to acting class and I love my teacher. In college, I got a BFA and therefore overdosed on acting class. I fell in love with comedy and creating my own work, plus there is no money in stage unless you get on Broadway. And I didn't have the money to move to Hollywood. However, I forgot how much I loved my acting classes and teachers, and how safe I was. The old habits are still there like a thorn, but I am slowly nipping them in the bud.

I also just recently got admitted into a graduate program that is right for me and my life. While I still have no idea how I am going to pay for it, I applied on my own like a big girl and got in. The department head was an NEA Fellow. This particular program would allow me to perform, tour, and pursue a graduate degree.

LAstly, my weekends are booked as I am operating a full body puppet in a haunted house. It's three nights a week. My coworkers are hysterical. Mostly young folks, they inspire me each time I dawn this full body suit and learn this new form of puppetry. When I was younger I wanted to master all forms but got down on myself and didn't have the confidence.

Now I do.

I was talking to my mentor Saturday and spoke about everything happening to me. He said, "Grad school, acting class, puppet job, Onion workshop, festival......LOSER!!!"

And then we both laughed.

Yes, sometimes as I look at all that's going on I don't know how I am going to juggle it. Especially since I have a calendar coming out, too.

Either way, better get to my Onion homework or else I will be a real LOSER.....

Instead of a fake LOSER

LOSERLOSERLOSER

Gosh I hope this mood lasts.....

It won't. But eh, you need the rain to appreciate the sun.

April Unwrapped

Summertime Sadness (Lana Del Rey)

The last few weeks have been difficult. Seasonal depression hit like a ton of bricks. Typically I get depressed in the middle of the summer. Work slows and I have more time on my hands to think. There's an old saying. The most dangerous neighborhood is the one in your mind.

Last year I seemed to avoid the seasonal depression I got. I had battled it for several years and thought I finally had it beat. However, it was delayed until August. This was because my sister got married in July and then I went from her wedding to the RNC. I had things to do so the depression didn't have time to sink in. And then I was on Cloud 9 because May Wilson and I were on national tv the following week. I was an activist, an artist, a TV personality. I felt great about life. 

This year has been a lot of ups and downs. A lot of career let downs followed by a lot of ups. But each up and down has been followed by rehearsals, auditions, tapings, meetings, traveling, and other footwork. And even when there was a down there wasnt much resting as there was much more to be done. 

Plus a lot of personal problems hit me like a ton of bricks. A friend breakup that has been slowly happening for two years reached it's final conclusion. And one thing about a friend breakup is you lose a part of your heart that you never knew was there. A lover you know will screw ya, but a friend, you never see it until it's there.

As of last week, things started to get better. In part because I decided to stop paying attention to the facebook reminders of where I was a year ago. I also know I don't have the capability to do the things I am doing now a year ago. I am stronger than I was a year ago. And did I mention I rocked my friend's political fundraiser?

Hell ya. And that got  me back out there mixing activism with art. 

The depression is being lifted. Work is picking up. I had an international order for an autographed book this week to a gentlemen in Northern Ireland. I got out of myself and was there for a friend who had to go to the ER with severe poison ivy. I got out of myself and was there for another friend who's boyfriend is struggling with alcohol. I got out of myself and was there for another friend who is transitioning from female to male and needed a hug.

I also am looking forward to the aspects of my work that I like. I like making people laugh and smile, and I love each audience I perform for. All people do is want to laugh and I am allotted the opportunity to do that. I am also looking forward to doing a headlining set in my home state. 

Apparently this is a real thing. Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD is a real thing. Yes, SAD is a real thing. So if you are experiencing this you are not alone. SAD. Sad. sad. Yes, it's SAD because it's real. It's Sad because you feel sad. And it is sad because here I am blogging about a first world stupid white bitch problem. Sigh mcsigh sigh

Buy my book

Clyde Fitch and Other Things

Last year my life was a lot different. I was at the mercy of a psychotic landlord who wanted nothing more than to destroy me. My living situation exploded in utter chaos, and he was keeping me a prisoner. Knowing much of my property had been destroyed as a result of the bed bugs and mold he refused to treat, he would not reimburse me for my losses. When I attempted to hold rent in order to fix my situation, he began to threaten me. Even when the city worker encouraged me to bring him to court and I paid him what I owed him, he began to torture me with court papers. Knowing I had no where to go and couldn't afford to move, he knew he could force me out and hold me hostage at the same time.

I had been there for 10 years without a problem.......until he saw that if he could get me out he could triple the rent and made it his mission to do so.

The situation came to a frightening crescendo when I went to my last court appearance. His lawyer initially told me to ignore the hold over suit they filed, but then I was told I had to go to court. They did this intentionally knowing I would not have enough time to notify my lawyer. To add insult to injury, they also demanded I paid them $3000 that I did not owe, extorting me, adding to my pain.

Their lawyer, an over dramatic idiot, believed himself to be Daniel Webster. Except Daniel Webster faced off against Satan and actually was able to hold his own in a courtroom against someone not willing to speak to the judge. I didn't speak because I was scared. For weeks, my landlord had been following me around the neighborhood. He had also shut off my water. I was afraid this man was going to kill me.

The day before, he had called to threaten me and said, "I won't stop until I see you homeless."

When I got home from court, my apartment was filled with smoke. My landlord had also been going through my things, and had been taking photos. I found out from one of the workmen later, but he said to leave him out of it, he had a family he had to support. I called the police who encouraged me to get out ASAP. My stove was red tagged by Con Ed, the thing my landlord had left leaking in order to cause me harm. Yes, he knew I wouldn't be home, and new this could and would kill me. I was scared for my life and had to move in a hurry.

One year later my address is completely different. I work with a mentor who is nothing short of a Godsend. My act is also completely different. I have been on a new level of comedy and the edge of history as Donald J. Tramp was the spokespuppet for Stand Together Against Trump (STAT), and we were ever present at the Republican National Convention in Cleveland. There was not one press outlet that my dear Donny and I weren't in it seems.

To add a little sugar to the suffle, I recently got to go as credentialed press to the 3rd Presidential Debate. I went on behalf of the Clyde Fitch Report, a Pulitzer Prize nominated publication. I was there with Donald J. Tramp to cover the event, and watched groundbreaking news unfold. It was a tremendous gift and incredible fun to be there with other young storytellers who were recording events for the generations to come. These press people were from all reaches of the globe, too. We all took note as the first ever female nominee, and the first ever part pumpkin debated on the important issues.

My life has changed, but for the better. God is good all the time. I know if things had not unfolded the way they did, I would not be doing the things I am now. What a difference a year makes.



http://www.clydefitchreport.com/2016/10/las-vegas-debate-april-brucker-donald-j-tramp-puppet/

Rainbow in the Dark (Dio)

I have had a hellacious last month and a half. Between family shit and work, I just haven't gotten a break. My grandfather died Thanksgiving Day. Now I hate the holiday. On top of that, Thanksgiving was shiteous anyway so it was only the icing on top of the cake called Fuckery. Work has been a nonstop avalanche of well work, uncertainty, delays, bullshit, crazy running around, and always more that needs to be done that never stops. Just paid my rent so I am now officially financially insecure. I feel like there is a big, fat, smelly woman-900 pounds, sitting on my stomach. Too bad she keeps farting.

This morning I was close to just jumping into traffic. There is so much uncertainty with the career right now. I have all these irons in the fire. The scary thing is, none may materialize for as hard as I am working. This worries me. Sleep goes from impossible or something I binge on. My dreams are okay but waking up, shit, real world. Fuck the real world. One family member whom things have been uneasy with because they are who they are asked what I was going to do if none of this happened. I wanted to tell them shoot them and shoot myself. It's an easy answer. But I didn't get around to it. Instead I should have thanked them for the kick in the stomach and apologized for the vomit spewing everywhere because I am already so nauseous from nerves. Hell, I live on Ginger Ale.

I won't know about some of these things until the new year. Okay, whatever. It means I need to keep working. I feel too tired to do shit. My apartment is a fucking mess. Oh well. The other part of it is I don't know what I want right now.

There is a part of me that wants a writing job for a TV show which would mean financial security. It would be cush, I could work from home, and have to deal with no one. The other part of me wants to really do standup again, as in tour. The visit to my sister in Nashville made me realize how much I miss touring and seeing the world. Since being on TV, I have been going more that direction. If I tour this time it will be theatres, not the fucking clubs where performers, especially women, are paid peanuts and treated like indentured servants. I also want to see more of the South and the West, as opposed to the cold north. Maybe even Europe. I also want to do more TV stuff too. Maybe get on a show, be a talking head and get good money. Maybe films. I have so many things in place that I am being pulled a million different directions and no one is answering the door. I want to shake the Magic 8 Ball.

However, despite the fear and bewilderment I feel the last twenty four hours have shown promise that things are getting better. I am doing a better job controlling the things I can. I got onstage even though I had to pay for it. I killed for an open mic. I also felt like I was rusty and spoiled in a way only booked shows do. I have been making lots of videos, almost daily. Some are good, some are smart, some, I don't know. I have been writing a lot.

Despite feeling so anxious and lost this morning, I had the feeling that it was going to be okay. Once my rent was paid the weight was off my shoulders. I know things are going to be as they are. My dreams are coming true, and when people give you a career they expect you to work. This is stressful but it is called life. I have responsibilities, which is part of having a JOB. I paid my bills like an adult, and work is coming in which means I will have money shortly. This is all called life, and it is simply happening to me now.

My mother suggested going somewhere other than my apartment to write. She fractured some ribs falling from our attic. We just got off the phone. Despite her physical ordeal she has a good sense of humor. I must remember when in times of great stress, I search for both God, but also the punchline. Pandora had her shithow but she still had hope. It is raining, but the sun comes out sooner or later.

There is always a rainbow in the dark

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