My Brand New Place

It has been two whole weeks since I moved into my new digs. The first week was hectic with me getting settled and all. My room was filled with boxes. When we were kids, Skipper, Wendell, and I had a box structure known as Gotham City. Our parents gave it the tongue and cheek nickname because they were remodelling our kitchen, they had leftover boxes, and we made a maze. Of course a groundhog got in there and that was the end of our fun.

These days I do live in Gotham City for real. Well more on the outskirts these days in a sister borough, but I live there nonetheless. My first week there were enough boxes in my new room that I thought of fashioning a new Gotham City. I was bummed there was no groundhog for my mother to chase with a baseball bat, and for Wendell to pretend he wasn't scared of.

One thing I do have in my new digs is a yard with SQUIRRELS. Yes, squirrels. When my mom was in town she saw a black squirrel. Apparently, a black squirrel is a genetic mutation and supposedly attacks the rest of the squirrels. So everything is scared of it. I wasn't aware the animal kingdom was so damn racist. Hack joke. Had to. Make fun of me now.

After all that happened, I was glad to spend this past week going to work and coming home. The 7 train at it's best is like a bullet train. These days I am at work faster than I have ever been when I was living in The Kitchen. In the old days I wanted fireworks all the time. Now I am content with calm and hum drum.

I also bombed this past week onstage, had my first shit fit in my room, and semi-cried myself to sleep on my new mattress. When you have a good cry on a mattress that is how you know a place is becoming home. I would even have a crying corner in my kitchen where I downed cookie dough in times of crisis but that might be just a little weird with my male housemates around.

I had a strange conversation with one this week. He's a good guy, divorced dad of two. It started with, "Not to offend you." We all know they are about to offend the shit outta you when they do that. He told me not to put tampons in the toilet. I feared I might have accidentally, because when I had my follow up at the doc's where they scraped my cervix after my cancer scare, I might have dropped my pad in the toilet after a moment of drained shock. But I didn't. Apparently his niece had flushed a tampon and totally overflowed the toilet. Sigh....a special thank you to the awkward fairy for that moment.

This same housemate saw a special about UFOs and NASA, and a scientist insists that the government is keeping the people in the dark. He says not only are there UFOs, but they created the humans as slaves to do their mining work. And that we are all part UFO. I felt this was a reach but my housemate was fascinated by this and felt that this guy wouldn't lie.

Hmmmmm

My other housemate and I had a chat about it. He informed me that yes, our dear housemate has a fascination with UFOs and conspiracies, but at this point kind of watches way too much TV. Still, maybe there are UFOs. We have some strange acting people on this planet. Who knows? Either way, I like them both and my new living situation much better than the one I left. It's entertaining and most importantly, I am safe.

My UFO obsessed housemate and I have kind of bonded. He is a divorcee with two kids, so sometimes when I chat with him, he sees things from my mom's point of view. While I feel sometimes my parents are crazy, maybe they aren't. Maybe they have some points. Maybe UFOs do exist. Who am I to judge anyone?

This past week I purchased two puppets. My puppet family and I are back to normal, although it has been a rough couple of months for us. I feel more protective of them than ever, and I feel we are all working more as a unit than we ever have. But of course, I left a horrific situation. So if someone believes in UFOs and conspiracies and that's it, I'm game.

No one has broken into my room yet and tried to turn on the gas so I might in fact die. No one has followed me around the neighborhood let alone threatened me. All and all, a better start. Best news ever, none of the rejects I entangled myself with from my old neighborhood know where I am.

Work has gone back to normal as well. Friday I found myself learning "Deep in the Heart of Texas" for a gig. I had it perfect on the train. Then I got there and it was perfect for the most part. One recipient had a weird name that I managed to mangle. Well they all did but this was the weird name I thought I had. But the other weird name was the one I was afraid of messing up but that was perfect. So I got the weirder name perfect but mangled the less weird name. Such is life. The medley was alright. Then the ending worked. It wasn't the way I rehearsed it but I gave them the liquor.

After the gig, I was out on the sidewalk second guessing my work and two people passed me, a man and a woman. The guy says, "That was brutal."

The girl says, "Yeah, a complete disaster. That went real wrong real fast."

The low self-esteem bubble began to run in my head. Did they just come from the party where I was the telegram? I had no idea because the place was so dark. Suddenly, I began to feel like dried dog shit on the sidewalk. A lot had gone wrong in my life and it had been a tricky last few months. I hoped they weren't talking about me. I had no clue, no proof, but the bells began to go off. I began to hope they weren't talking about me. With all that went on, I couldn't lose my most consistent survival job.

At that moment I realized I was tired. Weeks of court dates, harassment, stress, and living in hell had taken it's toll. Yeah, I am in a better situation and look like I am sleeping and eating. I look so good now that people don't gasp when they see me because I am too overwrought to eat. But still, I was freaking drained. Change is exhausting.

I figured the best thing I could do was go to bed. I had no proof they were speaking about me, and if they were fuck them. If they had to endure what I just did they would probably be dead. Actually, there are times I am surprised my life hasn't killed me. Maybe it will someday. It's probably going to be my life, some crazed fan, or the wife of an ex lover.

The client did call the next day with a bitch, but their bitch was legit. It wasn't about my performance, but instead about the fact their ungrateful friends didn't thank them for the expensive liquor. So the bitch was about their ungrateful punkage, not my performance.

My new life has lawn flamingos, Christmas kitsch, and neighbors who own their property. Welcome to life outside of Rental Prison aka New York City. Ten minutes outside the city. What am I talking about? I'm still a renter, what am I talking about, Willis?

Of course there are moments I miss the bustle and hustle of Midtown at this time of year. But when I saw my sister Skipper and her fiance Boomer I suddenly remembered how good it was that I could leave. Yes, I got them matching Christmas cookie cutters and a chew toy for their dog son Cooper. Stepping off the train I only wanted to punch every person in front of me. Yeah, don't miss NYC on a Saturday when everyone and their damn mother has the same idea.

The visit was fun, and made me like Central Park now that I wasn't down the street from it. I hung out with everyone again that night, and bring in an internet friend. We had expensive pizza, and then there was some beer involved. Add in an improv ventriloquist show with Officer E at the same pizza spot. Made me love New York all over again. Made me forget about how beat up and tired I felt living in the pressure cooker known as Manhattan. Made me grateful I could have the city and then travel over the bridge to my home.

I of course made my same prediction about how I might die. We had a laugh. Death is always funny. Sunday I went to my new church which is beautiful but feels impersonal. I need a new church boy crush. Of course I talked to my parents who only managed to stress me out mildly.

Then I saw the wife of an ex of mine, who's only completely unhinged, wrote a tweet about me that was only completely crazy. She called me her psychotic enemy. I mean, that's kind of deep because she's the one who constantly harasses me, and I don't care about her really. So yeah, she's reaching kind of deep. And she was angry I moved into what she called "my borough." Wasn't aware it was yours, sweetheart. Thought you shared it with about a million other people but what do I know?

This woman has been out of control for some time and made me question about whether or not to alert law enforcement because with each passing year she gets more aggressive. Then I decided it was a crush. Now that we are in the same borough, her borough, she can finally just kill me and help the sales of my novel and DVD. But first she's gotta buy me dinner. These days apparently she's in therapy. Maybe she's bitching about me now. Ha ha ha.

At that moment I realized that despite all that happened, I was still on track because someone was jealous of me. LOL. But then I decided to celebrate the actual victory like my new comic book being on the shelf this week. YES, new comic book. And the fact I am going to Vegas to work in January again with May Wilson. And my two new puppets. And the fact I am in a magazine again.

Of course this was after accidentally jogging on Northern Boulevard and watching reruns of Beverly Hills 90210. I like highways and I love cheesy teen trash. New home, old habits die hard.

A New York Adventure

It was a long day this past Saturday. I went to a workshop with my friend Derek. My gay Rumpelstiltskin, Derek has introduced me to many celebrity friends he has as well as other glitterati with a ton of money. I initially was not going to go, but when Rumpelstiltskin comes to reclaim payment you better not mess around. Plus this is Derek’s nickname for himself, not mine, and he made it so I could get in for free. The workshop, which ran all day, turned out to be wonderful.
However I had an early morning music video shoot the next morning for a band called Delicate Steve which my puppets were starring. May needed new lashes and I had to go to Rickys. Plus I needed new lashes for myself and new makeup. In addition May’s scalp was falling off and I needed to sew that back on. Then there was curling my hair as requested by the director and picking out my outfit. Not to mention I had to get toilet paper and trash bags. While my Phantom roommate is excellent about cleaning, he had forgotten these much needed items and I figured I was out, I might as well get them. Then there was laying my stuff out so I could sneak out without waking the guy up. A few weeks ago he remarked that I slammed the door interrupting his sleep so I have made it my business to not wake him since I am growing to like the dude.
I will admit the beginning of this previous week was a little crazy. Going home for my birthday, I had the best day ever with a Steeler win and seeing my baby cousin in his light up sneakers kicking the ball. After a bunch of presents and watching Robin Hood with Russell Crowe, I looked forward to sleep. Then at three o’clock in the morning my phone rings. My Phantom roommate was on a cleaning spree. Armed and dangerous amid dateless, he had removed the nobs to clean the oven and now it wouldn’t turn off. Squawking on the other end of the phone line, my roomie informed me that the place smelled like heat and he was freaking out. I asked him what the hell he was doing cleaning at three in the morning. I also reminded him that the first rule was don’t burn down my house when I am gone. If I could have had the power I would have reached through the phone line to strangle him at that moment. However, after the super was called everyone simmered down, no pun intended. Still we were both shaken yet bonded over Stovegate. Plus I had gotten back to the city and my apartment looked immaculate. All and all the guy was forgiven once I saw how beautiful my place looked. Not to mention once I saw him we had a good laugh and he told me his big concern was where I was going to live. Nevermind the guy could have died in an explosion because our stove is a gas stove and when it leaks it could be deadly.
So now back to Saturday, when I got home after rolling my hair I had every intention of sleeping early because I had to wake up at the crack of dawn. At two o’clock in the morning I heard my roommate coming in. My guess was that he had gone to blow off some steam at the Ritz, a gay bar he frequents up the street from me. Plus he had two shows that day so I figured he was tired as the door slammed. Closing my eyes to go back to sleep I heard footsteps coming to my side of the apartment and I heard my roommate whisper, “April! April!”
Rolling over I looked up to see him. Most women look at six feet three inches of lean cut muscle and think,"Come to mama," especially since my roommate is good looking. However I know there is no chance in hell of anything happening and I was a little agitated he woke me. So I asked, "Don't tell me you got into another cleaning accident."
“Relax, it’s just me and thats not the case. Anyway, I saw this set of drawers at the bottom of the stairs and seeing that you put your clothes on shelves which is an interesting arrangement. Lets face it April, you need those drawers more than anyone I know.” It is true, I keep my clothes folded on shelves. The arrangement is chaotic but it somehow has worked for the past three plus years.
Staring up at him I asked, “Why don’t you take them?”
“Oh I have a set.” He said referring to the plastic drawers I gave him upon moving in. “However my dear you need those.”
“How the hell am I going to move them?” I asked my roommate who ironically was waking me up after I had planned my early morning so carefully as not to stir his sleep.
“Easy, you have me to help you. Come on, lets do it now before anyone steals them.” My roommate snapped his fingers which is gay speak for get the hell up now and lets move it. Mobilizing, I threw on my sneakers and was ready for some middle of the night impromptu heavy lifting.
Following him down the stairs I felt like I was in a weird dream because I was adhering to the orders of this still almost stranger that I had met on craigslist only weeks earlier. While my previous roommate was seemingly more of an open book, this guy was almost the opposite coming and going as he did letting bits and pieces out as he felt necessary. Its not better or worse, just different. As I get to know him I see it is a good different, but nonetheless, my old roommate wouldnt have woken me up to move furniture in the midst of the night!
Apologizing for the curlers in my hair, because I had no intent upon being awoken by a gay roommate who had chosen to do my sidewalk shopping for me, I told him to pardon my appearance. Not that it mattered but I wasnt expecting the neighbors to see me rolled out of bed with curlers in hair and cold cream on my face. To which he instructed me without even giving it a second thought to “rock it out.” That made me laugh harder than I had in about a week. One thing is for sure, this new roomie of mine is a hoot.
We moved the nightstand up the stairs. Then we went back for the bigger dresser. The thing was heavier than I ever imagined. However my roommate surprised me with his strength and patience. This dude whined for weeks about how he didn’t want other people to see him working out at the gym. Now here he was lifting this effortlessly and I was a little weakling. There were several times up the four flights of stairs that I had to take a break. It didn’t feel like work at a certain point because we were laughing and joking all the way up the stairs. Mostly it was about how someday I was going to tell my grandchildren the story of their crazed uncle who I lived with to which my roomie replied, "And you will say, he was a grand old man."
When we got to my apartment I was too busy laughing and happy I had drawers instead of shelves. So I gave my roommate a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek thanking him. While he had woken me up, he had still done something kind seeing I am a pathetic wreck and needed those drawers. Plus I had to admit seeing them earlier I thought about snagging them but didnt think I could get the help, and here I had it living with me. That’s when he informed me he was the muscle of the house and that's what he was there for. I couldn’t help but laugh because this is the same man who had only left a week earlier to meet a potential future husband in a red tight fitting t-shirt with sparkles. However, I was willing to let that slide seeing that he had handled the dresser and nightstand, both made from wood that would have broken my back had I gone at this alone, with no problem.
As I drifted off to bed I thought of how my roommate had almost become boyfriends with a friend of mine weeks earlier and the guy sort of fizzled out on him which stung him a little bit. My roomie instructed me to tell my friend he had missed out on a good husband. Initially wanting to stay impartial, I have gotten to know my roomie a little and I can say what what I have seen he is an incredibly thoughtful person with a big heart and my friend was a fool to let him go. Sure my roommate could still mess up, but something tells me any guy who is smart enough to snag him will be one lucky man. Cause one thing is for sure, I do not know how long he will stick around but all and all I can say he is starting to grow on me. Sure he nearly accidentally burnt my house down, but he was cleaning which is a good deed. Sure he woke me up at two am to move a dresser, but I needed one and he was right. It was a good deed.
I went back to sleep for two more hours armed and dangerous for my video shoot. More on that in the next blog. To be continued. Love April