Waiting Out the Shit Storm

Lately, everything has been a challenge. I cannot tell you why. It just has been. Life has been difficult. There are days when I will admit, I would jump into the Hudson River, except the only thing stopping me is that I would live. Then there are days where I would want to get a semi-automatic weapon and do away with those who piss me off, except bullets and guns are mighty expensive these days. Basically, it has been rough.

The last several weeks have seen a shit storm. My landlord and I got into a shouting match on the phone, and I feared I was going to be evicted. After which I had my refrigerator replaced after becoming deathly ill. Apparently when the top half only works as a refrigerator and the bottom does nothing, you can get sick. Oops. On top of that, someone who talked me out of a rough time in my life had hit one in his. To solve his physical and emotional health crisis, he took his own life. As if that wasn’t enough rain, I experienced a rift in a group of friends of mine with a crazy bitch and her mean girl toadies that are jealous of all they have done. Every time I see them, they are always trying to start beef with me. It’s been work not to strangle them accidentally on purpose, so in order to save my sanity I can no longer do some things I wanted to do.

On top of that the career has been kind of stupid as of late. Everyone is dragging their ass with my work that needs to be done. Then there are some things in the air which has left me waiting. A film of mine should have advanced in this thing. Yeah….

Then there has been the no money coming in game, and the paralyzing fear of losing my apartment. As things pick up, people I have been dealing with have been absolute ass weeds. One producer for this project has just been a dick who jerks me around. I can’t stand him and I almost want to tell him, “Consider someone else please.”

The talking head job I had dried up which sucked. I enjoyed it and worked hard. Not to mention I was the most popular person on the app. However, my bosses were idiots and ran themselves and their funding into the ground. They invited me to stay on for free, truth. I was like, no thanks, bye.

Another woman playwright who’s work is probably shit invited me to audition for her contrived piece, but the way she had the invite there was no way anyone could schedule anything. Needless to say, I emailed her and she told me the audition slots were full. Maybe it’s better I didn’t work with someone who took her hackneyed piece so seriously.

After that, I was almost set to headline a theatre when the producer tried to talk me down from my original price. He mentioned the sound man was getting 900, him 600, and me 300. I have friends who don’t have my TV credits that do the same job for a few grand without getting shit. I was replaced by some local hack who later backed out. HA!

There have been a few signs things are getting better, but they never last. Friday I did a job for a family who owns an overpriced bakery in the Bronx. I have been there and the place is DIRTY! As a matter of fact, I believe they gave me food poisoning once. Not to mention their servers are notoriously rude. Anyway, the woman picked me up from the train and she was ghetto. I get there and did what I was supposed to do. Nevermind these people didn’t know which train station was which. The girl taking me back to the train was surly as a mofo. Not to mention she relied on me getting her to the train station, when she lives and works in the town.

Then my boss called me and asked how it went. He explained the client called and was super pissed and wanted her money back. My boss said she told him that they pretended to enjoy the show but they didn’t. It was all just an act. My boss asked them if they tipped me to which they replied they did. Basically, they were trying to rip my boss off and had planned this all along. Every once in a while, we get these clients.

Well so it goes. My boss told me that lately I have been snippy on the phone and he wondered if I took it out on the client. No, me being snippy had nothing to do with the client. Just the fact my life and everything about it has sucked. But maybe I should have taken it out on the dumbasses.

I also explained that they couldn’t get me to and from the train they were so dumb, and I was lucky I got out of that town because their stupidity could have killed me. My boss then asked if I took that out on the performance. No, but maybe I should have. In the end, they still tried to rip us off anyway.

On top of that, my boss asked me if I still enjoyed the job. When the clients aren’t assholes I love it immensely. For the whole summer, most of the people I delivered to were better than dreams actually. But when I get assholes wanting a free show or some axe to grind because they just do, no. There you go, honest answer.

I still got tipped, I still got paid. Those fuckers can turn on the television and see me from time to time and choke on their fucking poison canoli’s. Just for fun, I went online and apparently one of their employees made racist comments towards a bi-racial customer. Then the owner explained his dark skinned assistant was, “Trying her best for someone who was that way.”

Friday ended splendidly. I got into a street fight with a stranger. As I was having a meltdown on the street of New York, I was cussing at the top of my lungs. After all, the only thing stopping me from diving in front of a train is I might live and become a cripple and have real problems. The stranger yelled something and I told him to go fuck himself. He told me I was pathetic and he had more money in the bank than me. I screamed, “You do! You probably do! Congratulations, you win!!!” To which he didn’t know what to do or say.

As my life stands, it looks like I am on thin ice at my job. My career is at a standstill. There is a chunk of people who were once friends I can no longer call friends. My landlord hates me too. Not to mention while rent always gets paid, this is one of these months where it will probably happen by some act of something else.

On the flipside, I am dancing in the storm. I am writing like I have never written before. Not to mention I am also taking steps to produce and direct as well as star in my first short, and get funding. I have some amazing things on the horizon. I have also been taking classes with some amazing teachers, one being DW Brown, a Meisner expert in Hollywood. My support system has also been amazing. They have been the only reason I didn’t take the plunge from the GW Bridge.

The thing about killing yourself is you don’t give life a chance to get any better. While things feel like cold, hard concrete at the moment, that also functions as a proverbial trampoline. What comes down must come up. So now that I have hit cement and am banging my head there I am going to bounce back up. I have to. I just don’t know when.

By next week my landlord might not hate me. I might be back on my boss’s good side. My money situation might improve. My career might not be at a standstill. The world might end, but could we all be so lucky? Either way, as the shit continues to rain I am no longer protesting it. I am just letting it hit because soon enough this too shall pass.

Alas, and so it goes.

Getting Fired

Have you ever been fired?

It is like a bad breakup. Basically, you want out of the relationship but your partner dumps you first. You're not so much pissed that you got dumped. It's that they did it first that irks you.

I was twenty one and working at a women's clothing store in Pittsburgh. It was right after the finish of my junior year in college. Academically, I was successful. Personally, I was a mess. A drug addict roommate had stolen my ID and brought a cellphone, and I was engaged to a psychopath. I was performing ventriloquism and chasing the comedy rainbow for now, but it was more a pipe dream than a reality. I knew it was where I belonged, but the yellow brick road alluded me.

The job was torture. The only reason I looked forward to going was it was a reason to get out of my parent's house. When I would get there, I would sell to women who would buy the same size they wore in 1960. From there they would bring them home, try them on, and return to the store wanting a refund. Bitch, it was the size you wore in 1960. Multiply it by three, look at the number and cry here. Save me a headache and yourself the money. Seriously!

I remember there was one woman out for blood. Her name was Darrilynne. She had just had her husband up and disappear one day, and he had been cheating with a woman who looked like me. She always accused me of wrecking her displays. I was always getting in trouble, and the wrench didn't even work in my department. Of course she always was angry, and her hair was blood red and looked like it was cut by a weedwhacker. Probably from killing her husband and his lover. Anyway, one day she pissed me off so much I just shoved it. I think it was actually an improvement on the design. Yeah, it was mean and nasty but I was tired of being bullied. They could fire me. I was ready to quit. Hell, I didn't even care.

I still remember getting fired. They had just taken me off the schedule. This woman named Diane who probably has lung cancer by now because all I ever saw her do was smoke called me in. She sat me down and said, "It was too many things, April."

Basically, she said, "You don't get along with your coworkers." Oh, you mean my manager Dee Dee who's wardrobe looks like it hasn't seen the Civil Rights Movement? Or Margot, the fat bitch who says she hates gay people and I point out no man who works in this store is straight? Or better yet, Jenny on stock, who said she was thirty minutes late for work because she was scarfing down cookie dough after being dumped. Yeah, I laughed because I thought she was kidding. Then she started crying because she was serious. I told her how stupid she was, and how she should have just lied and said she had car trouble like everyone else does. Yeah, not liking them so much either.

Then Diane told me there was an incident where some woman claimed she spoke to me looking for a sweater at our store. We had three in our system. This woman drove three hours and was upset to find none. Diane told me I should have checked. I told Diane she should have checked her computer, it said she had three. Diane claimed the customer was upset. I told Diane that if this idiot had three hours to drive to buy a sweater she deserved to be upset.

And then she said I was suspected of messing up the display. That I did but didn't want to cop to it. So I took the blame for the sweater instead.

Diane then said I could use them as a reference, and it wouldn't go on my record. I told her it was okay. I wouldn't be telling anyone I ever worked there. I was happy to get fired, especially since doing the math I made more money on unemployment anyway. Oh, and I got another job that day where I made nearly twice as much and actually cared about what I did.

My parents were the only ones that were upset about it. They were "worried." I had been gainfully employed since age fourteen. If this was the first time I was fired, I was doing pretty good.

Two days later, I got an offer to do a feature gig in Omaha, Nebraska. My path was being shown to me. Yeah, I might have made more money had I advanced in the chain. But the thing was, this is what I was meant to be doing. The job rejected me because I didn't belong there and never would. I had gotten fired, and more than anything in the world I wasn't concerned about a backup plan. I wasn't afraid. It was do or die.

I moved to New York and after graduating became serious about comedy. I took a job delivering singing telegrams. Not only did it give me an opportunity to expand myself, but I got a boss and coworkers I respect and adore. Most importantly, hell or high water, this is where I belong. I also got out of the relationship with the psychopath who denied me of my puppet children, and began to chase those dreams.

I have appeared on national television, headlined, and just recorded a DVD. I have worked with some of my heroes, made a song that was an internet hit, write for the Huffington Post sometimes and even wrote a book.

Am I where I want to be yet? No But had things worked out at the clothing store I would have kept my job and again, become a manager. I wouldn't have any of my dreams come true, and they would just be clouds in my coffee.

So yeah, getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to me. It got me to get off my ass and to go for it. Also, it got me to not be scared of what might happen next, and led to me where I always knew I belonged.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Pre-order my DVD Broke and Semi-Famous @
www.aprilbrucker.com

This Cloud (Bush)

It is almost a week after my DVD taping and I am going through the stages of grief. There is denial. Yeah, I don't believe it is over. Then there is anger. I found myself pissed for no reason. Then there is depression. That is the biggie kind of hitting me right now. I am not really depressed, just ready for the next thing. Then the depression lifted to just feeling strange.


Life feels kind of strange now that it is back to normal.

I use the word normal loosely. As normal as it can be for someone like myself.

Yesterday was busy with work. I delivered a rapping birthday cake show girl. The client requested 8 balloons. Only less than a week before I had been getting ready to go onstage, celebrity hair dresser making me look good and makeup artist telling me about how sweet America Ferrera was. The place filled with my fans. Now back to schlepping. Anyway, I managed to get 8 balloons. I get to Long Island and the client greets me at the train. She has blood red hair, probably from something she killed.

Anyway, her name is Linda. Linda tells me this is a gift from her kids to her ex husband. She mentions what a great ex husband he is, and how she was lucky to have married rich. The only draw back was he lived three blocks away but she would much rather have his money. Linda went on to mention she had been a saxophone player and model, and had been stranded in Siberia. Apparently she wrote a book and screenplay about this subject matter, winning awards. I almost mentioned my book, but this was better than any nonfiction I could ever write. Linda explained that while her ex husband was a great guy, she wasn't allowed in his house. So I was to go, deliver, and he was going to tip me and take me to the train. It was a fuck my life kind of moment.

We went to her house to change, and she started telling me her kids were champions. Well her daughter was a gymnast who kind of gave up. But her son was a champion tennis player. Linda informed me I was to put some party music on, and her son would help me. She called her kid who told her tip the girl. Linda threw eighty dollars at me. Crazy women with lots of money are awesome. She told me she used to be a blonde and that is what the ex liked. But she dyed her hair red to make it in Hollywood. Linda also informed me her ex had decimated her in the divorce and had driven her insane. I think this had happened long before that.

I got to the house, and Linda dropped me off and sped away. I was hoping I didn't get shot. I knocked on the door and the ex husband answered. His name was Bob. A good sport, Bob asked what the hell I was supposed to be. I told him and asked their son Billy for some party music. Billy said he had access to no such thing. I think the kid know his mother is nuts.

Well the father liked it and the son captured it on camera. It worked well. The ex husband took me back to the train, and seemed like a nice enough guy. I think I know why it didn't last between them now. Either way, I always find myself in the middle of someone else's familial dysfunction.

Then my phone rang again. My boss sent me to deliver to a christening. I thought it was a baptism. Anyway, I go to deliver. It is a dude on a first date with this girl, and I am a rapping chicken. He was good looking in that 90s Suavecito kind of way. She was a pretty girl, laughing and taking photos. He laughed too. Of course his dickhead friends were hiding capturing the whole thing on camera. Guys get weird when they are about to lose a male companion for any reason. It's no homo but it kind of is.

Anyway, his friends ran out, and the dude did want to kill them. At least I didn't get shot.

I escaped death twice yesterday. Don't know how I swung that one.

Today I realized I do a two day engagement at a theatre in a month. I am also releasing my DVD. Things aren't going bad. I kind of feel like a loser for some reason too. It's grief plus allergies plus career transition.

On the upside, I made some good money yesterday and didn't get shot. And I have two good stories.

What's there to be depressed about, seriously?

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

Restless, Irritable, and Discontent

I am entering perhaps one of the worst times of year for the business I am in. There is this lull. It's like a death lull. It never lasts forever but feels like it will. For the whole of the winter and spring I have been busy as hell. And now I feel like blah. Actually I have been busy with other projects. But still, it's kind of financially interesting to say the least.

Part of me feels lazy and worthless as hell. But I know it will pass. I am applying for some promo jobs which I hate. Yes it is quick money but it is also bitch work. Oh and on one promo job I was with this chick who told me that she would audition for stuff but that would mean she would have to stop pAArtying. Revolting was an understatement. Then of course you have the bitter former actresses who fell into promos and now they are peppy about it to compensate for the fact they have no career. One time this chick mentioned she was touring and I asked her what show. She told me it was promos. I was like, oh. And she snapped and said, "People don't just tour with theatre, you know?" OUCH McOUCH!

And then you get the promo chicks who are just plain hard to take that take the job so seriously. Relax, it's just a damn promo. Your job is to smile, hand out the flier, and just stand there. No one is rating you. I worked with one chick who was like that. She too claimed to be an actress. I asked her if she was in anything and she snapped, "You have to know people." Okay, duh. And then she was doing some retarded show and I asked how much it paid seeing it as a career opportunity. She said, "None of anyone's business!" I was like WOWSA! I just went to my corner and worked. She was cool when I missed a few days for a job. But the super promo chicks were just jealous as hell and said I should be fired cause I wasnt committed. As if? This job was designed for that.

Things haven't been that bad though. I have some club dates coming up and have some money coming in next week. I also have money from book sales which is cool. The weird thing is, my broke underemployed ass is on TV more than ever. I am getting recognized by fans on the constant. I am like thanks. Now tell my bank statement how famous I am, for realz. It would love to hear it.

I also got some good news on some other projects that is waaaayyyyyyy promising. I am thankful for that.

There is an old saying that this too shall pass. I know it will. So hurry the fuck up and pass.

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