Seasonal Maladjustment and Other Business

If you have ever walked the tight rope known as 12 Step and self-help, you know about HALT: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. They should highlight Tired. I make all my terrible decisions when I am tired. Once when I was tired I withdrew my rent out of the wrong bank account putting myself almost 2 grand in the red. It was bad. I had to call my mom like an asshole.

Yes, nothing says asshole like calling your mom to tell her what a fucktard you have been as an adult. But moms are moms. They are always there like parachutes to rescue and hot air balloons to lift you up.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind.

Work was busy before leaving NYC for Christmas. Then during Christmas my mom was sick, so I couldn't rest as much because she needed the assistance. I would have been a complete asshole if I wouldn't have stepped up. How many times has my mom stepped up for me? Plus the docs feared she had pneumonia which is no joke. Needless to say I didn't get much rest during the holiday.

Then I was in Vegas working and rehearsing for the APAP showcase performance of The Lady and President Tramp. It was rehearse, rewrite, rinse, repeat. In between I was getting threats on twitter and the venue was getting threats too. Never a dull moment.

Then I went to APAP, did some reporting for Clyde Fitch, did my showcase.....success.

However, the next few days were spent trying to recover. I got onstage right away and thought I was okay. But then I couldnt sleep. I tried but my phone buzzed, people called. I found a new Lifetime movie. I was too wired to sleep.

Finally Friday I forgot what time zone I was in. I forgot my groceries at the supermarket. I dropped my keys on my front stoop and left them outside. I got into a fight with someone I care about who's my heart in a lot of ways. When I say fight it was a big fight......so big I didn't know if they would be talking to me the next day.

Luckily Tylenol PM was to the rescue. I slept until almost noon when my landlord woke me up to tell me he made too much coffee. And then he told me about his latest UFO theory. I managed to complete my errands the next day without dying or falling asleep on my feet. Bonus, I knew what time zone it was.

Yesterday, I managed to patch things up with the person I cussed out who compared me to an infant throwing a tantrum.....ouch, and they were even kind enough to laugh me off.

Either way, I got some decent rest this weekend and put in some self-care. Now to get my show back up again, find a pianist, enter it into festivals, and make some videos. Oh you got to eat that elephant one bite at a time. Did I mention I am releasing a calendar and book?

Sigh, no rest for the weary. 

18 Cents......

Yes, that is a real Christmas song. My dad and his family used to sing it when I was a kid. Apparently unknown artists before the days of the Countdown Singers put out little records. 18 Cents is the most depressing Christmas song ever. It's about this poor kid who has no money except for 18 cents and how he divvies it up. But damnit, 18 Cents is our depressing Christmas song.

I am glad 2016 is almost over. I am so tired I feel as if I will die some days. There are moments where I want someone to throw a blanket all over me. Yesterday I was so exhausted that I nearly fell asleep in the train station. That would have been a bad idea, but eh.

Lately, I have been running around so much and there has been so much to do. I have been dealing with folks overseas. Then I have been getting ready to showcase my show The Lady and President Tramp at APAP. I have been interviewing piano players who work everywhere and are more tired than I am. In between I have been getting onstage and delivering telegrams. Today I interviewed a young woman still covered in my Lady Gaga sparkles. I know, STABLE.

I asked her about her life as if I had the right to judge anyone covered in my sparkles. She lived with her boyfriend. I asked how their relationship was because I had a piano teacher who broke up and wouldnt get out of bed. This is why I don't know how to play piano. She said things were fine. I said I had to ask. Then I remembered I was covered in sparkles. I was in no place to judge anyone anywhere.

Two weeks ago, I did a podcast with an Irishman who was recording me from a bathroom in Poland. It's not what you think, often the bathroom is the quietest place in the house. I have a soft spot for the Irish because my dad's family is Irish. Heck, my pop's himself is the stereotypical Irishman in a lot of ways. His dad even more so.

Either way, I am ready for 2016 to be over. I am ready to hear my mother's lecture about how I need more protein in my diet. I am ready for my father to shame me about my life choices as we watch Big Battles and I admire his train platform. I am ready for my male younger cousins to tell me about how they realized recently that women were jealous. (Honey, we all jealous). I am ready for one of my female cousins to have a meltdown over a guy and spill the truth via eggnog. And I am ready to tell her at least he went away on his own, you didn't have to get the cops involved.

I am ready for my cousin to get out his trump and to start playing 18 Cents

Here is the link to the podcast I did with the Irishman from his bathroom in Poland. Enjoy. http://thecomedycast.com/podcast/the-comedy-cast-interview-with-american-comedian-ventriloquist-and-writer-april-brucker/

The Week After: Post Election Let Down

This past year I found myself really involved with politics. Donald J. Tramp, my political puppet, was my nexus that lured me into this latest adventure. The concept came from the fact that Donald Trump is the ventriloquist puppet of the Republican Party, saying all the hateful rhetoric the career politicians wish they could say but wouldn’t because it would cost them elections. And a tramp in old times was a fool or a fop. I invented him when it became clear that he wasn’t going away.

Donald J. Tramp brought me to the RNC. He became the spokespuppet for STAT (Stand Together Against Trump). Along with the brave doctors, nurses (STAT is a medical term meaning right away) and other brave young activists we protested Trump’s candidacy. For days Mr. Tramp and I entertained in the square. Each day, we watched the trainwreck that was the Convention from Scott Baio to the stolen speech. And then we marched. I think I might have been the first ventriloquist on a protest. I dunno.

My protest puppet, Donald J. Tramp, and I in the Cleveland Dispatch

Either way, I met a lot of wonderful young people from all ideologies expressing their First Amendment Right. We were all peaceful. Several young Trumpkins clad in American flags wanted to rub Donald J. Tramp’s head for luck. It was fun. I let them. At the end of the day we are all people and this is America.

A still shot of us in between performances. We literally talked to 200 press people each day, and thousands of pedestrians.

My partner and I then found ourselves outside of Hofstra. Sans STAT, we were simply a ventriloquist and her dummy doing a good old fashioned street performance in the free speech zone. We were true agit prop theatre. Another man showed up with a giant Trump head, and an anti-Hillary supporter even sported a wig and a full body costume nominating HRC for prison.

I also got to see a dark side of the protest circuit. In Cleveland, and even at Hofstra the ones that scared me were never the Trump supporters. If anything, the ones I met in Cleveland were overweight, out of shape, and had their guns irresponsibly strapped to their backs. Or they were young white men who might have been supporting the Donald on a lark.

One of my faves of Donald and I from the march

Marching with STAT

However, the super liberal, third party people were the ones that scared me. In Cleveland, one tried to light a flag on fire. She failed and instead lit herself on fire. The policeman, trying not to break out laughing, screamed, “You idiot, you’re on fire!” Then after he put the fire out told her that she was done for the day and had to head home. Apparently someone in her crew assaulted a cop, and this same group of radicals tried to get a young man from Black Lives Matter to organize a march to the jail to free the prisoner. Needless to say, the constituent of STAT was sensible enough to refuse the invite.

The same held true at Hofstra. Jill Stein and her disciples came and many didn’t have a conversation, only yelled. They also made it clear that they showed up solely to get arrested. Their dreams came true, 26 of them did.

Free speech zone outside of Hofstra, it was colder that day. Oh and it was also my birthday. 

The climax of my adventures was Donald J. Tramp and I, both acting as correspondents, for the Clyde Fitch Report. My puppet partner and I both had official badges, mic flags, and hats. We saw Anderson Cooper napping on the back of a golf cart, and Wolf Blitzer trying to escape attention in a van. I was in the room when Donald Trump uttered the phrases “bad hombres” and “nasty woman.”

I was a part of history as it unfolded. In between Donald and I were on stage nightly in NYC, and also hit a few venues in Las Vegas. We met a lot of Trump people who dug the act. It’s good. A country that laughs together stays together.

On location, Las Vegas

I wish with all my heart the election turned out differently. The night the results came in, I got a ghastly stomach cramp. As HRC gave her concession speech I cried buckets, because the glass ceiling had not been broken. And just as she lost I felt I lost. Not just as an American, but as a woman who has experienced sexism. As a woman who is a domestic violence survivor. As a woman who knows what it’s like when a man torments you and no one believes you.

I was also saddened as I saw Trump supporters gloat, and frightened as my friends who were black, Latino, gay and trans feared losing their rights.

I then became angry at my own party. Angry at the disaffected Bernie people for either voting Stein, writing Bernie in, or not voting at all. Angry that they gave the election to Trump. Angry at my own candidate for her flaws, and angry at her for not understanding technology. Angry at my own candidate for not reaching across the aisle to the Bernie people. Angry at my own candidate for not making Bernie her VP. Angry at my own party for it’s apparent division and not realizing this until it was too late.

I became angry at the Trump people, even flaming out at several. But as I went outside and caught some air, I came to the realization we are all people. I am not angry at the Trump people for voting for Trump. They didn’t do what I wanted them to, but when it came time to vote they voted for who they thought suited their interests. And Trump somehow was able to get the disaffected Cruz people behind him, which is more than I can say for the Democrats. So again, they get an A on the assignment.

Tramp and his campaign manager May Wilson

I even spoke to several Trump people, none by the way who I felt were racist in the least bit. They felt HRC wasn’t trustworthy, and were tired of being screwed over by the government. Many were 2^nd Amendment people who live in an area where a gun is required because cops live far away. Others saw their jobs disappear as a result of Bill Clinton’s legislation. Many, like my ex, were banged up Iraq War Vets who were angry that Obama had undid the work they did in the Middle East, and felt the government was too busy helping illegals and forgot about the vets.

Either way, Republicans in my experience always seek to pretend to help the common man only to get him to vote against their own best interests. Harry Truman said as much. This is no exception. So on November 9 we all lost.

On the other hand, it takes many opinions to make the world go round. Pence got booed at Hamilton and got challenged from the stage by the lead actor. Was it the time or place? Depends on who you ask. But I felt the plea was peaceful and kind. It was also a response to a man who’s positions and party are built on bigotry. The president elect had a meltdown, but Pence took it in stride explaining, “I told my daughters that is what freedom sounds like.”

Better than the president elect, screaming about defeating Isis but unable to defeat the theatre geeks.

As Donald Trump suggests a whole flock of cringeworthy, Southern Poverty Law Watch List alumns as his cabinet picks, like the rest of America, I pray and wait.

But life goes on. There is existence off of twitter and facebook. Thanksgiving is coming up. My sister and brother in law are frying a turkey. My dad also has a birthday tomorrow. He is going to be 64. There will be other elections. There will be other debates. I won’t have my dad forever.

My coverage of the election has brought us closer, and maybe we will discuss it on turkey day. While I have 4 more years worth of material, I need a week off. Actually, I think I would rather discuss football and Heisman picks, two things that have always made America great. 

Just me and my dad

Being Okay

I have had a rough last month and a half as I have written. My family life has been stressful because of my grandfather's death. I also found out my mother had a freak accident and almost fell through the attic roof. I have other family members with other issues that I can't even go into. Work has been stressful. I am sure you are sick of hearing about it. I know my friends are.

Last night I had some writing crap to do that I have been putting off because I felt tired. I decided to swallow my pride and go to an open mic. Some of the comedians were good. Some made me want to slit my wrists. I didn't have a booked show and it was a good excuse to clear my head and get back onstage. Plus I want to tour again and need to be sharp. I actually ended up making some new friends and having fun. I felt nice, relaxed and loose onstage. It was about the comedy, not about the star power that came as a result of being the only one like myself.

I also met another ventriloquist last night. We are few and far between so it was a joy meeting another brother/sister. I also saw some friends do comedy at a show. It is wonderful to be onstage, but every once in a while you have to support your friends. For as numerous as the foes I have in this world are, there are also a lot of people who love and support me. It felt great to see live comedy, and to see so many of my friends doing well.

I know this dark patch will pass. It's the holidays. It's death. It's a whole mix of shit in the proverbial blender. After having brunch with friends and ranting my head off, I heard conga music. It made me want to be happy and dance. They say change a muscle change a thought. I did both. And a good night sleep makes a difference. Also binged on Lifetime Movies

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

Over Tired

I am having the kind of day that is low key. I need to have this kind of day every once in a while in order to keep my sanity. Granted, the world doesn't give a rat's ass about my sanity but that's okay.

This week has been a long one. I don't know what is worse, when people don't do that they are supposed to do or are way more immersed into their personal lives. For as much as people dream they don't give a rat's ass about their careers. I must be the only person who cares about making this happen. Oops. Things aren't just handed to me. I have to make it happen. As I said, I have a sense of urgency most people don't. I don't have a boyfriend to coddle me.

I feel like sometimes I work hard and people just want to suck the life blood out of me. Yeah woman, you go do that while I go fuck all the bitches in the land. Or sorry April, I have to spend time with the worthless lump I call a boyfriend/husband. Could you pick up the slack for me? I won't say thank you. I won't do what I am supposed to. Instead I will hate on you, rip you up, and then you will have to listen to everyone else complain about me. Fuck you and your fucking relationships. When you have nothing because you have love, don't whine to me when your dreams aren't coming true. You chose to chase ass and now here you are getting fucked.

As for the haterade being tossed my way, the ugly Port Authority Drag Queen is starting to calm down. It's what she looks like. I hate her. People tell me to pray for her but I am not there yet. I also have a plan of action. If she crosses the line again I am going to the police. I hate having to get the law involved but it is what I have to do. I also am getting an app on my phone to block unwanted calls. It will make my life easier and I will no longer have to have a relationship that is functional with a stalker.

My life really isn't that bad. I am just overtired. I have a lot to look forward to. My new on camera hosting gig at ITTV is awesome and I love my cohosts. I am working a lot which means rent won't be a problem. My audiobook is getting ready to go on itunes. Projects are on the stove. Life is good. 

I just wish people had their priorities straight. 

Sigh, I think I need to go to the pool for a swim. 

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com

Exhausted

I have been working a lot lately which is a good thing, but still I am exhausted. Monday I worked all day on my book, and then had PR work to do on the webseries I am a part of. Tuesday I delivered a telegram and did more work on my book. Wednesday I had a delivery first thing in the morning, marketed my book some more, and then kickboxed that night. Thursday I had a delivery where there was a misunderstanding over the costume (long story) and then I had Derek Boik’s show that night. In between all of that I found out that my loyal little UK fan boys hi-jacked a webcast sponsored by Playboy and demanded to know whether the on air jockeys knew me.

Derek’s show was actually a lot of fun. I got to see old friends and meet new ones. The World’s Tiniest Standup Show lives up to it’s name, and some people had remembered seeing me on TV which was sort of cool. I also had a comedic breakthrough. I told some stories with May about our life as a ventriloquist duo and the people ate them up. They weren’t our usual filth, but rather intelligent comedy. Plus they were quick. Then I stayed afterwards and did the open mic. The show was a lot of fun and I had a good set. Plus I got to put a new story on it’s feet.

Afterwards I had an encounter with an old friend on the street, threatened to slap a guy who tried to grab me, and then hailed a cab. My cab driver was a good dude, Saleem, and has now become my personal driver. I suppose this Rainy Day Woman is moving up in the world.

Friday turned out to be especially busy. I had a Marilyn Monroe with a company I sometimes work with. They are good people but sometimes they book, sometimes they don’t. Well they booked and I went to Greenwich, CT. Then my boss for my primary company booked me in a birthday cake show girl on the Lower East Side. In between that I had even more work on my book, plus talking some more to the producers of the TV project we are trying to pitch.

In between that I saw my old dance teacher Madeline from college. She had been a former Rockette and all around awesome lady. She asked me if I was still doing puppets. I told her yes and that I had been working a lot and that I was oh so tired. She told me not to complain about working ever, which set me straight. Still, by the time Friday ended my bones hurt from the cold and just running around.

Then last night I did a private event where despite my trepidation it went well. You see, my contact didn’t return any of my phone calls. When I got there turned out she quit! Needless to say the people at Sinapi’s Ceola Manner were good people and I took photos with a lot of the patrons at Carnivale. My friend Amazing Amy was on the lineup too and she and her Indian Yoga rocked. The trip out there wasn’t bad, but because of the way Westchester is laid out everything is so far away. I did an hour strolling and while the people were cool, there weren’t that many coming in and out and that is the secret with a strolling act. An hour seemed short, but the way the night worked after eight Amy and the bellydancer had the floor. So from 7-8 I did my thing, and then off I went.

Amy was a good travelling companion. We laughed all the way home and I forgot that I was so tired that if I stayed still too long I would fall asleep. Well I did as soon as I got into my house though.

As of now my place is a mess. There are so many things I need to be doing but am not. I am beat. Last week was a doozy too. In between Valentine’s Day, special events, shooting a music video, and everything else in between I feel as if I am going to pass out. But I have been doing open mics too. Not because I pay for stage time, no. It’s because of all the hard work I did this past year and getting my ass on television I am getting better stage time so I want to be sharp. Oh and then there are my live shows. And then there is the TV project I am helping to pitch.

The terrible thing about me when I get tired is I start yelling at people. But unfortunately sometimes, the louder you yell the less you are heard. I am just tired. But the good thing is, rent is all about paid

Either way, church today and an Oscar Party tonight.

This Wednesday, February 29 @ 7, come see me at Eastville.

Love

April