Warped......

The last two days have been interesting to say the least. My friend's mother's funeral was online yesterday, but I was working and couldn't attend. He's seen me perform twice and has driven long distances to do so. I will watch the live stream.

The big question is, when the freeeeekkkkk did they start live streaming funerals for noncelebs? I guess it's for people who miss the service but......hmmmmm......there are so many things I could say right now.

And then just as I think death has stopped it's wagon train I'm wrong. I saw an old friend who's wife I knew in passing. I asked, "How's your wife?" I mean, I knew her.

That's when he says, "Oh, she committed suicide." At first I thought he was kidding but then I realized he wasn't. I gave him a huge hug when I realized he was serious. It's one of those times where I couldn't believe how unintentionally I had fucked up. It was funny in a dark way that I thought at first he was joking, but then I realized it was pretty fucking terrible.

Today was the funeral mass for my favorite cowboy in Vegas. Yes, the best friend of the mentor who based out there. I sent him a text letting him know I was thinking of him. It's what you do. As I am doing this, I got an invite for another funeral on April 1st. Well the guy's dead but his memorial is April 1st. He was a comedy club manager, it's appropriate.

Two days before was my great aunt's funeral. Her daughter did my hair for years and even did the hair for my little sister's wedding. Heck, she even gave me my first haircut. While she was sick and it wasn't completely unexpected, it was sad nonetheless. My one aunt suggested inviting all my aging rels to my sister's wedding because well.......it might be their last event out.

So far this has been the case in three instances. Still all this death lately has been a tad excessive. If I am being callous it's because at this point it is just getting surreal.

But the good news is, I became an ordained minister in the Universal Life Church. Yes, I can perform both weddings and funerals. My mom was pressuring me for a second career and there we have it, kind of. She had been pressuring me to get ordained for years actually and now here I am.

Apparently I can have my own title. I choose Bishop Cardinal Brucker. My neighbor back home has a son that's a priest, and another family friend has a son who's a minister. While I am not quite a rabbi, I could walk into the bar with them. And while it would probably be insulting to them as men of the cloth, I am as legit as they are in some counties. I know, scary. I also figure with a lot of death around me as of late I can officiate some of these funerals.

Work has been plentiful though, and some people are interested in me for things which is good. Yesterday I was a funster clown, gorilla, and hot cop. I sang to a dock master at an art gallery. Then a baby whisperer OB/Gyn in Chinatown. After that I sang to two hot Scots.

Yesterday I also found out from multiple sources an old bf of mine is crazier than ever. He managed to take in a dude who squatted in his residence and then the dude tried to call the cops on him. Of course my ex was squatting as well. This was such a shit mess worthy of the Dukes of Hazard that I couldnt write it. I wanted to say, "Hunty, I live for you. Stay just the way you are, Baby Cakes."

Of course his life is a complete mess. His current girlfriend has a Charlie Sheen like coke habit and a nose like a snow blower. He also ripped off a woman he was supposed to be working for. Oh the gift that keeps on giving. Sounds like they deserve each other. Wowsa. Just when I didnt think he could fuck up more than he already does he exceeds my expectations.

The biggest kick was that he was telling people he dumped me. First off, I threw his shit out on the sidewalk. (Didn't end well because he was a LIAR AND A CHEATER). Second, I dumped him. Third, who cares IT'S OVER. Then I remembered why it didn't work out and wondered why I just didn't tell my source that I didn't want to know and didn't care. I think that's what I'll do next time. I don't know. I don't wanna know. I don't care.

And then as if that wasn't crazy enough, my sister has a friend who was dating a dude who was confuzzled. My sister and cousin, Dr. Ruth and Dr. Phil, told her to make it work. Keep fighting for love. I told her to forget about him, he was confused. She was better off with a dude who beat her. Because this fella was going to waste her time, and by the time he made up his mind it wasn't going to be the answer she wanted and it wasn't going to be her.

Well it turns out he's a vicious sex addict. I was right. Dr. Ruth and Dr. Phil both said as I was blasting her, "You are so bitter April. You never made a relationship work. What do you know?"

Clearly a hell of a lot more than you.......

Then I told my mom about all the death around me. She mentioned people usually die before spring and can't make it through the winter. And then mentioned the anniversary of my Nuni (her mom's) death was coming up.

Dead grandma. Okay, there is no way you can top that.

Well of course that is when I discovered I made a banking error that is mostly straightened out. So I read an inspirational email. A woman spoke about the joy of her pregnancy before miscarrying. Dead baby.....

Dead baby......

Okay that's a mic drop.

As far as inspiration goes, I have officially given up.

Love Stinks (J. Giles Band)

I haven't put my fingers to the keyboard in a while. Partially because my jet setting has left me too drained to write, although blogs about my jet setting would be more exciting than the crap I am about to spew. It's been a good year. I have met some wonderful people who really believe in me. I know I am blessed, yet at the same time I feel as if a meat cleaver is going to land on my head at any minute.

Two weeks ago I was in West Hollywood in an important office with some people. I was scared. It's kind of funny. A year ago I was dating a psychotic Iraq War Vet and had a landlord who was tormenting me with the legal system. My relationship went south after my ex lied, and then my landlord began hassling me in court every other week. His male lawyers stood too close, and put their hands on my shoulders without my permission. It's a man thing in order to make women feel small. Or rather it's the gateway to rape culture. He's a man, this is his world, now it's time to let you know who's boss, bitch.

These guys weren't successful, as I showed them I wasn't afraid. Needless to say, they weren't prepared for that. Granted, I was in a relationship with a dude who was seeing snipers who weren't there. That's scary. These idiots probably couldn't seal the deal with their wives. I googled the one for fun. He's been married 3 times. He parades his current wife around like a trophy. Please, she's a participation ribbon. A guy I delivered a telegram to three months ago was 50 and had a 25 year old wifie who had jugs out to the wazoo. That's a trophy.

However, these goons were tying me up in court as my landlord was trying to burn my apartment down. Needless to say, I had to move and then there was the cancer scare.....

In between, I had my ex's former girlfriend.....a crackhead who claims to be a drug counselor (while still smoking crack) hassling me online. The breeding lump has 5 kids to 4 different men and is the poster girl for welfare abuse. His psycho sister also stirred the pot. Basically, what wasn't happening to me.

After all this, I was still scared to meet those peeps in LA. Now that's the funniest joke I have ever written. No, the stuff I walked out of was scary. Waking up and seeing your boyfriend taking canned goods out of the cabinets because he believes Isis is coming. That's scary. Not being able to breathe in your apartment. That's scary. The possibility you might have cancer. Really fucking scary. Not a bunch of dudes at a table. Especially men. Not scary.

The older I get the more I believe men could not possibly respect women fully. They will always look at you as a sex object or some form of stupid. Or some form of sex slave. Or a possible substitute for a blow up doll with a pulse. But as an intellectual.....never. This is why we need a woman president.

I also believe men are sex crazed goons who only think with their penis and are never fully capable of loving a woman. Maybe it's because my last relationship was the final nail in the coffin of a heart that was already dead, or maybe because I have stumbled upon the truth. Most people are selfish and are incapable of being true partners. That is yet another reason the divorce rate is so high.

I always knew men were a bunch of selfish cretins, but after the ending of my last relationship I knew it for sure. My ex is a fucking liar and still continues to spread shit about me, none of it which is even remotely true. And then when he left the picture, his idiot friends all tried to slide right into his place. I hate myself.........but not enough to be your whore fuck you very much.

As if that wasn't enough, when any dude I encountered heard about why I ended things he did everything he could to smear my ex and assure me that I was better off with him. Yes, he who was trying to stealth his way into my life. He who was secretly, covertly interviewing for the job opening in between my legs. Yes he who was qualified simply because he had a penis. It was disgusting.

There was a part of me that wanted to strip myself naked, paint "FUCK ME" on my chest, and let them all take a turn just to get them to go away. Not only could they take a turn, but we could all be disappointed at the same time. And I would make them feel as trashy as they made me feel. But then I figured their company already disappointed me, my job was half done. Alas.......

My experience with men has taught me they all hate when you talk about an ex but they can talk about the last place they stuck their dick all they want. There can only be one and it's them. One set of rules for them and another for you, sweetness. They all believe they are sex Gods......to give you a second of satisfaction. They all have a motive and that's to get you in bed and basically ruin your life. They are all self-centered in this motive. They all have larceny in their hearts. ALL. If a dude was honest about this when he met me I would give him a whirl. When I tell the truth I am bitter. Eh, bitter is a buzz word for honest.

Did I mention they all also want to secretly use you to make an old wife/girlfriend jealous and they all LIE!!!!!!!! Oh and in between they are looking for a hooker and a mother in the same body.

Lest we not forget they LOOOOOOOVVVVVVVEEEEE it when a woman gets jealous. And they say they don't care, they just wanna mess around. Yet they become all possessive like a boyfriend and then when you find someone you care about, they become a bigger twat than you could ever be.

I dunno. I worked on an exciting project yesterday. It was awesome. It's for kids and will allow me to do a lot of good in the world. I should be blogging about that but instead had to get this bile out of my system.

My sister also got married and I went to the RNC. I should be blogging about that but the thing about adventures is they leave you tired.

My next blog will be about my adventures.

This blog is about my manhate. God does it feel good to be back, internet.

Adventures of Spooky Juice: Hell's Kitchen Super

This morning I had my daily encounter with Spooky Juice, my super. Spooky Juice has requested that we call him Spooky Juice and is eating up his new found kinda, sorta, fame in blog land. Anyway, I woke up late this morning because I was busy doing what I usually do, work myself to death. This was how today’s adventure with Spooky Juice transpired. He not only likes the notoriety, but he is now taking creative control of his online presence.

Players:

Spooky Juice: West Indian super from Guyana who is always into some mischief and is quite frankly spooky. Always wears a work shirt that has been burned in various places.

Me: Overworked woman living in Hell’s Kitchen with her costumes and twelve puppets. Exceptionally wonderful with crazy people.

Begin Scene

Spooky Juice is on sidewalk

Spooky Juice approaches

Spooky Juice: My friend. I want some of your spooky juice.

Me: That’s your name.

Spooky Juice moves in to try to get a smooch.

Spooky Juice grabs my hand

Spooky Juice: I sat outside your door the other day.

Me: That was you ringing the bell?

Spooky Juice: Yes

Me: I was this thing called asleep. And that was truly spooky of you.

Spooky Juice: Expect me to be spooky.

We both laugh

Spooky Juice: Did you get the jokes I sent you? I want you to start using them in your blog?

Me: Yes.

Spooky Juice: You promised me my blog would be up yesterday. What happened? Where was the blog where I was the star? I read your blog about fuck my fucking vegetables a week ago and thought oh my God. Then I read your other blog about you kissing that guy with long hair.

Me: Sorry to break your heart, Spooky Juice.

Spooky Juice: No, that is okay. I just read the part where you almost got arrested taking the easy pass. What happened there, your friend didn’t have her sticker?

Me: No, she had it but she was out of money on it, so we backed up and went to another toll booth. We shouldn’t have done it and the cop appeared out of no where. Jessica didn’t get a ticket though.

Spooky Juice: I am glad. I want you to be safe. I have to send you the joke about why people think fucking is bad. I mean I don’t get why fucking is bad. It is just fucking. We make fucking bad.

Me: That is a very spooky thing to say.

Spooky Juice: Well I am Spooky Juice. Now put up my blog today.

We both laugh

End scene.

 LoveApril

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

Messy Hair....

Yesterday morning started with a temporary crown on my tooth. Yes, me going to the dentist and him sticking a needle in my palate, actually two. Then they tried to ply my other temporary thingie off with pliers and when that didnt work they drilled. Despite the numbing it still hurt because it is your freaking nerve. Anyway, they also made me put this thing in my mouth for five minutes. YUCK! After that I went to the rest room because mind you it wasnt even nine in the morning yet when they were doing this. I looked in my mouth and my toof was gone!!!!! I say toof because I feel like the Jamie Foxx character from In Loving Color, the boxer who's name slips my mind. I freaked the hell out! Needless to say they assured me I was getting a temporary crown. So my toof looks almost normal. I just can't chew anything sticky or chew iced cubes. Well they didnt tell me how limited my diet would be. Yesterday was spent living on chili.

Where are Jack and Diane with their chili dogs when you need them under the shady tree? Oops, I wasnt able to eat hot dogs.

My book talk was scheduled last night and it seemed I had all the elements working against me. The day before there was a giant snow storm and the whole town looked like a winter wonderland. A winter wonderland is fun to look at and sled in, but you forget it is a bitch to shovel. Not to mention Mema Ralph had chest pains and had to go to the hospital.

In the end it all worked out. My book talk had a good turn out. I had twenty six people there. Some had read the book and were asking all sorts of questions. Some had not. It was nice to see Becky Sedlock again. It had been a while since I had seen her. She seems to be doing well, about ready to buy her first house. Becky was all grown up. Her brother got married too, and both her siblings were doing adult things. I was like wow, all these years later it is so cool to see her. Plus it was cool to see the Bulger Bruckers, the Bethel Bruckers, and my Godmama. Did I mention it was awesome to see Baldini?

The talk was a success, and it was nice to be back at Bethel Park Library after all these years. I entered through the door. During my days at the access station I used to enter through the basement, next door to the courthouse and adjacent to the police as well. I was happy with the turn out despite the weather, and we had some press which was mondo McAwesome. Plus May Wilson had a few minutes to shine.

Woman is hard to control. She told Richard Crawdaddy to get well. Baldini was there to record.

Well after the book talk I was dropped back to reality. When I got home the pain set in from the dental work I had done that morning. It was time for Advil and time to eat the chili that would most likely run down my face. Plus I had to pack for an early flight. Then off to La La Land.....

That's when I woke up and things really started to get cray cray. Mema Ralph had been admitted into the ICU that morning and they said they she had flat lined. So we had to wake my dad up to go to the hospital because one of my aunts believed my Mema to possibly be near death or dead. To make matters worse, my dad is not a morning person. So my aunts were asking my sister Skipper who is in medical school what was going on and she was filling them in and mind you this is all before five in the morning.

So we are pretty sad and it is a question of whether we should go back to our cities: me to New York and Skipper to Providence when we receive a phone call from one of my aunts that my Mema Ralph is in fact breathing and she is doing okay. However, this forty-eight hours will be critical. Still, that is a big step up from dead which was good. But Skipper, my mom, and I all just were like, "WOW!!!!" I will be keeping my Mema in my prayers. She is eighty-eight, she hates being in the nursing home, and she just wants to go back to her house. I can understand that. Still this morning was intense, scary, draining, and made me feel like I ran a marathon before 5:30 am.

Skipper of course felt a little sad because this summer she had a patient who seemed fine, an older woman, and her vitals even checked out. As a physician in training, Skipper had told the family the woman was fine and other doctors on the floor had too. Within minutes the woman however, unexpectedly had a complication and died. Skipper who's capacity to feel and care surpasses anyone I have ever met to the point of being slightly codependent was having a flashback of sorts and crying in the airport, overflowing with empathy. I had to give Dr. Sco a hug. Poor little thing.

I found myself wanting to cry myself and then bang my head against the wall. Cry because I am terrified for my Mema Ralph but bang my head against the wall because it is so much at once so early in the morning. Then it occurred to me, my temporary crown may fall out.

Just when I think my morning is over, I get to my gate. The show is over now, right?

Oh no.

A few summers ago I worked retail before graduating from college. There was this horrid woman who worked on display. Her hair was blood red and it looked like it was cut by your local weed whacker. Anyway, she was always trying to get me fired because she was insane. Her husband apparently had just "disappeared." Some say he ran off, I think she killed him. She accused me of wrecking her displays on ten different occasions when I was innocent. Finally one day I just got sick of her and decided I would give McCray Cray something real to cry about. I did by giving her display a huge shove. They fired me.

Well there she was. Her hair was no longer blood red but some disaster combination of highlights and low lights. She had the same crazy eye makeup, and a husband who wore a pink shirt which was too much for me to comprehend that early.

I thought of bitchy things to say. They went as follows:

1. "Remember the time I wrecked your shiteous display? Well I wrote about it in MY BOOK!"

2. It's been a long time. I didnt recognize you with that passable hair. Did they change your meds?

3. Are you still doing display? My friends design displays in New York City. But then again, it actually requires talent to work in that market.

4. I remember when your last husband just disappeared. I am so glad to see that you have moved on.

5. Are you going to Fashion Week? I have been twice. Once with Alex Wang and once with Betsey Johnson. Ooops, you have to be invited.

As I brainstormed bitchy things to say it occurred to me that this woman was not worth my time and energy. While it would be great to get the best of her, the better revenge was living well. She looked like she was painted, a nobody trying to be somebody.

That's when one of Chacho's best quotes popped in my head, "A nobody trying to be somebody is the worst kind of nobody there is."

And that's when another Chacho maneuver came to mind. If this woman were to engage me I would use the, "Excuse me, who are you again? I don't believe I know you." Chacho explained it was the gay beings shady way of dealing with crazy people once.

I didnt need to do it. Instead we met eyes once and she just had this pissed off look in her face, as if she couldnt face me. Or she wanted to chew me out for wrecking her display but knew in her mind she got her medicine and I could serve it up again. Still, it was wild to see someone I rightfully smeared in my book on the flight.

Oye vey. I am back in my city and it is cold as one of the layers of hell in Dante's Inferno.

Traffic was a mess.

I need a day off and it hasn't even started yet.

One more cup of coffee, a bagel, and a brush.

Cause I have messy hair.

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
877-Buy-Book
www.buybooksontheweb.com
Amazon.com

Portion of the proceeds go to Sandy Hook Elementary School until January 7, 2013.