Frankenstorm: Life After

Everyone knows Frankenstorm has just passed. Windows were boarded up. McDonalds, Starbucks and the Post Office were closed citing a world's end. One would have honestly thought the real Frankenstein Monster was coming to town. No, he was not burned to death by a bunch of angry villagers with pitchforks but rather he was alive and well.

Not it was not the Wolfman either. In the movie Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman, Lon Chaney is resurrected from the dead. He says, "Every full moon I turn into a werewolf." I just wanted to tell him, "Sir, those are some serious problems." But in this photo he looks like a New Yorker getting cabin fever after days of being at the mercy of Frankenstorm.

In this case the evil gypsy woman is not telling the New Yorkers that they cannot get out. It is Bloomberg who shut down our subways and Frankenstorm who is keeping us in. But the thing with horror movies is, when the gypsies begin to mobilize you know things are bad. Just like in real life. By the way Maria Ouspenskya was a famous Method Acting Teacher. Her claim to fame was the mother of Bela in the original Wolfman, the man that screwed Lon Chaney over making him a wolf every full moon.

That being said, what could have rescued us this Frankenstorm? It came so close to Halloween. I was doing BJ Thorne's show at the PIT, it is a talk show set in hell,and they were interviewing me about my book. BJ in the character of Vincent the host asked, "Does this book have no portal?" When I said no he said, "Then it is no use to me." Afterwards, his character then reads a book that he thinks will rescue him from hell only to realize it is a copy of Plan Nine from Outer Space. Then that got me thinking, "Plan nine from outer space, resurrect the dead." That sounded like a brilliant idea.

But Frankenstorm found me thankful. Throughout I didn't lose power or electric and still had running water. One man I know walked from the East Village to the McDonalds at Midtown to charge his cellphone. That is commitment. Not to mention friends and family banded together to make sure no one went without. It was very sweet. Still, there was all this hype. I found myself a little disappointed. In my neighborhood there was noncommittal wind, noncommittal rain, just like Kato Kaelin and his testimony in the OJ trial. Hell, he had more commitment than the storm in my neighborhood.

In some areas though it was terrible. The Jersey Shore is basically under water. What will Snooky do? Get her weave wet. Between her fat ass and her syphillis I am sure she will find some way to swim. With all the diseases she has she would only pollute the water more.

With the tanning beds wet tanning mom can't get skin cancer so perhaps this is a good thing.

But look on the bright side, New York City is now ready for things like a zombie invasion. Hey, if the dead hipsters all rise from the grave we are all screwed. But now we have a plan.

Still with all the hype I wanted to see Godzilla.

Or maybe King Kong. And maybe I could ask them all why does Hollywood always want to destroy my city?

Rest assured though, one thing about New York City is that since the dawn of time, no matter how close we come, we always win against the aliens.

Last night I went out and saw my old friend and classmate F. Michael Haynie. He is currently in Wicked on Broadway as BOQ. You should check him out. He looked good and sounded good. Then I remembered the Wizard of Oz took place as a result of a twister. Yes, Dorothy Gale created an international incident by killing a dictator and accidentally overthrowing a fascist regime, but who couldn't help but oppress a munchkin?

Twisters are usually good luck for me. After a big storm in high school I got the role of the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. Then a few years later I did the best set ever in the same show as Kristen Shaal. After that, when there was a real bad twister in Queens I was asked to do a show called My Strange Addiction with my little puppet children. Then during Irene I did one of many drafts of a book called I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl. What will this twister bring? Maybe some fan art by Libby Jay.

Maybe a change to hang out on the Coney Island Boardwalk with Bob Greenberg

Maybe Snoop Dogg or Snoop Lion or whatever he calls himself will blow back into town. Will he be so gracious as to share his gin and juice with this shorty?

Maybe May Wilson and George Dudley will get their own reality show at the chagrin of April Brucker and Otto Petersen, detailing the nitty gritty of their tryst including love child.

Maybe my puppet children will clean my house

Speaking of munchkins and puppets, maybe Bruno Mars will drive up, serenade me, and take me to his Beverly Hills Mansion where I can abandon all notions of Women's Lib and never have to work again only to be a kept woman. Wait, that is May Wilson's fantasy.

Or maybe a book called I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Performer will start to get picked up my stores. As I begin to schedule my book tour here's hoping.

Either way my gym is closed because of water issues which meant no kickboxing. The highways are jammed to hell cause there is no public transport. The gas stations had people fighting as early as five in the morning. I havent delivered a telegram in days because of the transport issues. I believe that the chaos is behind us though. But just as Frankenstein had a bride, does Frankenstorm have a bride?

All jokes aside sometimes we need a Franksenstorm to show us how truly blessed we are, and how we don't know what we have until it is gone. I know right now this is a hard time for all of us and know that in our hearts we are being taken care of. That with a little faith we can navigate through these challenges before us.

I wrote this blog because I figured we could all use a little laugh.

Love April

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

877-Buy-Book

Vampires, Witches, and Werewolves Oh My....

Twenty two was a crazy year for me. It was full of all sorts of adventures. Actually misadventures is a better word. Call it the punchline was April being stupid. I was downtown and getting drunk. It was me and two guys I had sort of known but didn’t but never really saw after that. I had done two good shows and they had sort of asked if I wanted to go out drinking. I said sure. In this evening doused with Jack and Coke they asked if I wanted to go to a party. I was getting drunk, it was Friday night, I had cab money. I thought, “Why not.” Sure I would have a hangover but what gave? I would have fun, right? Plus like most parties it would be sort of lame with guys who thought that they were God’s gift to women. I would entertain their BS, get drunk some more, fascinate everyone with the fact I was a ventriloquist, and then go home.

However, no amount of liquor who lubricate me enough for what was to come. We went to this club where the party was to occur. I still remember it was what was then Avalon. To give you a background Avalon was what was the former Limelight, the hang out of Michael Alig before he killed his drug dealer friend with a hammer, chopped him up, and then bragged about it. It was only after his torso washed up on the shoes of Staten Island that things began to look grim. Before the Limelight was a nightclub it was a church. The building has some crazy albeit evil history. I felt chills as I approached. This wasn’t going to be my typical party.

We got in and I was greeted by a doorman who’s teeth were filed to look like fangs. I pointed out that his teeth looked like fangs and he said that he knew and laughed. I asked him why he did such a thing and he said it was because he was a vampire. He was committed to his vampire house and that was that. I was like, “Okay.”

We walked in and we were greeted by people who had odd names like Zade and Dax. This was long before the days of Twilight. What was going on? I asked my two escorts and they informed me that this was a vampire party. They informed me that they were vampires themselves, and they told me not to talk to the vampires in red because apparently they were engaged in a vampire war. I began to panic. VAMPIRES!?!? They only existed in the movies. My escorts assured me I would be alright. They informed me my blood would not be feasted upon, but rather they were psychic vampires feeding off their energy.

I didn’t know what to say. Was this the time to mention my mother had given me holy water upon my trip to New York? I had eaten a slice of pizza doused in garlic only hours before. Just as I was pondering these quieries I saw a woman from the rival vampire house stare me down. Her hair was pitch black and her skin was white as snow, or death if you spend too much time in the morgue depending. I looked away. I didn’t know whether to be scared or to laugh.

I turned around to find my escorts but they had disappeared. Where had they gone? Now this was just getting creepy. There was a lot going on in this party in this sea of vampires. Did these people honestly believe that they were vampires? This was comedic and creepy at the same time. The guys were either handsome in that undead sort of way, or they looked like they would have been roughed up by jocks for good reason. The women were either overweight or were scantily clad, reminding me of the line, “Pagan Pleasures” from some old Bible film. This was all much too much for me. I looked around to see if I could escape. Just then the girl from the rival coven approached me. Her long black hair and vacant look in her eyes made her look like the child from The Ring.

“Want me to buy you a drink?” She asked. “Sure.” I said. I had no other friends and she seemed friendly. Plus in a setting like this you needed all the booze you could get. That’s the only way it could ever make sense.

She put her hand on my shoulder in almost a romantic gesture. Smiling she said, “I think you are very pretty.” Was she hitting on me? Was this a lesbian vampire? Where was Charles Busch when I needed him? This sounded like a story that he could only write. I went from being creeped out to being just plain confused.

I stood there speechless. Then the only thing I could blurt out was, “Jack Daniels. He’s the only man that I ever loved.” I just wanted to convey in not so many words that while she was indeed beautiful in that hang upside down in a cave sort of way, I wasn’t ready to get into a lesbian vampire relationship. That entailed a whole new unearthly level of drama. I could picture Thanksgiving and breaking the new to my mother. “Mom, I am a lesbian and my girlfriend is a vampire. She will be sleeping during the day and we will need to use the garage for her coffin.”

She nodded and left. Just then I was approached by a dorky looking guy who probably got his head beaten back in the day at school. He was dorky, underweight, and had glasses that looked like they were taped together. He was just missing his many books and pocket protector. I began to hope much like me, he was close to normal and had accidentally wandered in. I glanced around for my escorts. No where to be found. The dork introduced himself as Raphael. Then he informed me that I should not trust Britta, the woman who was buying me a drink. Raphael informed me that he was a psychic werewolf and against the rules of those in his coven he had begun a relationship with a vampire only to have his heart broken. I didn’t know what to say. Then Raphael blurted out, “She is going to give you a drink. Don’t drink it.”

I didn’t know what to say except did he honestly believe he was a werewolf? Wow. I asked Raphael why he was at a vampire party. He explained, “Vampires and werewolves are cousins. We inner marry and breed so we could be stronger.” My mouth dropped open. I definitely needed more booze for this occasion. Raphael also explained that he was afraid of Britta. Then as she approached he howled and left. Was this for real?

“I want to kiss you.” Britta said as she handed me my drink.

“Have you brushed your fangs?” I asked unsure of what to say. I had never been hit on by a lesbian vampire before. These things were important if I was going to be kissed by the vampire woman who had previously dated a werewolf, especially if this woman had been around. While I had previously dated men, I had never been seduced by a vampiress. Part of me wanted to say no, but the truth of the matter was that she was staring me down, making it hard.

"You are under my spell." She said. And I was. I could barely move. For some reason it was in part the liquor but also some unearthly energy in this place. I found myself wanting to go into the world of the Lost Boys. I wanted to tell her how much I liked men and how I had come here with two guys. But this vampire seductress was working her charms. I began to gulp.

Just then she moved in for the kill. I would have stopped her but I was so stunned that I didn’t know what to say or do. In my short life I had never been in a situation like this before. This was the strangest night of my life and somehow the alcohol was not blacking things out and making it any better. As Britta moved in to kiss me I heard a, “Not so fast bitch!”

Britta stared in alarm and I was now more surprised than ever. Standing before us was a womster dressed in black. She had to have been two hundred pounds plus. Committed to the evil chic, she was dawning black lipstick. This woman had never seen sunlight let alone a gym. There must have been a buffet in the bat cave. Maybe she was drinking her blood and dousing it with Hershey’s chocolate syrup after cooking stray rats in loads of lard.

“Another vampire? Or are you a werewolf?” I asked. It was the only question I could muster in a situation like this.

“No smartass, I am a witch. A moon witch and this right here is my girlfriend.” She seethed looking me up and down. "And I see as usual she slums it."

“What?” I asked.

The moon witch nodded. "And for your information she has really scraped bottom this time. I bet you have no magical powers." She snapped.

"The only magical power I have is the ability to stay under two hundred pounds. Something all your spell casting has failed to do." I informed her. Who was this Dungeons and Dragons reject to call me sewer material.

"Well I am going to put a spell on you to ruin your life!!!!" The witch said. Britta looked down.

"From the looks of it you are already ruining your own life with your magic. Your wardobe is abysmal, and not to mention your metabolism runs behind schedule." I told this reject. Now she was speechless. Then again, a shot of reality will do that to someone.

The witch then changed her tactics.“Look, my problem is not with you. My problem is with this cheater right here. First she can’t decide whether she likes vampires, male werewolves, female witches and now you whatever you are.” The bohemith stormed as Britta looked down. "She is toying with my emotions and I can't stand it." I bit my lip trying not to laugh. The undead had some serious drama.

I took a deep breath. “This is all too much for me. I think I need to go.” I said.

“Where are you going?” Britta asked pleadingly. “She doesn’t mean it. We have an open relationship.”

“Back into reality. I am not a vampire, a witch, or a werewolf. I have too much to do like pursue my career. You on the otherhand can frolick in La La land because if you actually believe this, God bless you. I am sure Bellvue has a bed or two ready.” I said as I ran out of the party.

When I got outside I caught a cab home. I ran up my stairs, took a shower and went to bed. When I woke up in the morning I awoke to the sunlight. Touching my bed I was glad it was not a coffin. With that I jumped out of bed and joined the living.

Needless to say I was back to being a straight woman as well. While men don't want to talk about their emotions and want to watch football and scratch their crotches, a lesbian vampire and her moon witch girlfriend was too much drama for this lifetime or any netherworld.

Love April

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

877-Buy-Book

www.buybooksontheweb.com