Friday, November 26, 2010

Black Friday

It is the day after Thanksgiving and sadly I hardly know what to do with myself. I have gas, terrible horrible turkey gas. It is an embarrassing sort of thing. As a matter of fact all day long I have been gassing it worse than some poor Mexican living on an all taco diet. I am talking like someone who should be on The Blue Collar Comedy Tour. Then again I did have the pleasure of appearing in a commercial with Jeff Foxworthy and do remember he was a nice guy. Still this turkey makes someone embarrassed to go out. How will I ever find a suitable man with a job?
I am currently at Myrtle Beach at the shore with my family. So far it has been a good trip. My brother and his wife came in. It is so weird having my brother married. He has currently been married for eighteen months. There are some half way houses and drug programs that give chips and things for people who stay clean and sober for eighteen months. Plus if this was a celebrity marriage it would have been over already my brother was so quick to point out. All and all they enjoyed their beach walks. They also thought it was funny that they were in medical school and I was on a medical reenactment show.
We all went to the mall which was interesting. The people were out and about. At the Dollar Store we saw a whole new species of white trash and other genetic mutations. Then again, you get such mutations in dollar stores everywhere. We made an attempt to score with some hot guys and ended up talking to some marginal men at the scrub store. They told us how they dressed in scrubs telling women they were doctors in order to score. Maybe it was better that didn’t work out.
I also almost landed a sugar daddy this morning. I was walking on the beach in my bikini and bam. He was an old man and told me I looked great and asked how old I was. Maybe it was better that didn’t work out.
It seems I have grown so much as a person from last year to this year. Aside from everything I have been doing with myself I feel as if I have grown leaps and bounds and am happier than ever. Maybe I am growing in faith, but my heart feels lighter and I am enjoying my life. As I watch The Blind Side I know it’s gonna be alright. Love April

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Dancing in the Wind

When I was in college my junior year I was a mess. For starters I had a messy living situation where two of my roommates were abusing drugs. Meanwhile they would always turn on me as the bad guy for not doing my laundry as constantly as they did but what they were doing was illegal. On top of all of that I found myself engaged to someone who was sucking all the life blood out of me. The relationship was a disaster but what had become a snowball was becoming an avalanche that was consuming me. As you could imagine my mind was not always on keeping my eyes on the prize. The classes that were easiest for me were a breeze however those that were more difficult and took more effort for me were an unwelcome challenge to a woman being eaten up by the outside world. One of those classes was dance.
I remember my dance teacher at the time was a man by the name of Jeffrey Ferguson. Jeffrey had been a dancer with both the Joffrey Ballet when they were located in NYC and also toured the world with Alvin Ailey and his dancers. In his fifties Jeffrey could move better than the rest of us. Sounds incredible right? Well my plan was to hide in the back the entire year and copy off of my neighbor. He would never know the outside world was kicking my ass and I was less than engaged. Not to mention while tumbling had been my strength as a kid, keeping the rhythm had been my weakness. I figured Jeffrey would never know I was choosing to take the hour and fifteen minutes allotted to teach us how to dance as space to drown my thoughts in my fiancé and my impending roommate doom.
Wrong. Jeffrey knew right off the bat what I was up to. The first day of class he told me to pay attention not once but three times and told me right off the bat, “I see tremendous potential in you.” Translated, Jeffrey was like Santa. He knew who was sleeping and he knew who was awake, and if I chose to be an errant student in this class I would get my ass beat. Right off the bat Jeffrey let me know that my boy problems as well as my roommate problems were not welcome in to walk through his door in not so many words. Taking a deep breath while it was the kick in the behind that was being firmly delivered and that I desperately needed I dismayed because it was going to be a long year. Being a standup comedian dance was low on the list of priorities. I knew my quirkiness and puppets would open the doors for me. However when Jeffrey entered the building it moved up several notches on the ladder.
I thought about faking an injury to get out of dance class. Maybe I could take another singing elective. My voice was getting decent because I was starting to train it. Not to mention mask and gesture was one of my favorite classes because of my continual work with puppets, and Carlos and I got along swimmingly because of my free use of my imagination. Or maybe another movement class with Michael who adored me as well as the ideas I brought to each different assignment that I did. I also thought of a third acting class but two that lasted four hours every week were enough. So I decided to hang in there and dance.
There were times where I struggled, like how I cried my eyes out my first tap class having never danced. Then there were times I shined and got it, especially when I chose to get out of my own way. Still, even when I wanted to quit Jeffrey never gave up on me. Sometimes it meant telling me he was proud of a mountain I climbed that day in class. Sometimes it was letting me know the answer was not to tune out when I felt everything was overwhelming me. Sure I was probably one of his most errant students but somehow he always had faith I would get it.
My last day of class with Jeffrey I let him know I would not return the following year because I was graduating. I figured Jeffrey would have been stoked that he would never have to deal with me again. Not to mention I thought I was getting married and dance was the last thing on my mind. Instead of saying “good riddance” because after having me in class maybe he wanted to, Jeffrey told me something that I will never forget as long as I live. He said to me, “Don’t ever give up on yourself. You can do anything you want to in life, remember that.”
I always remembered those words. I remembered them when I eventually had the courage to break off an engagement to a man who was unhealthy for me in every way possible. I remembered them when I graduated from college, moved into my own apartment, and took the risk of a quirky job in order to pay rent. I have remembered them every time I set foot on a standup stage and tackled an audience that has been a challenge. I remembered them when I cleaned up my life and started anew.
Yes I have danced since graduation. I am not dance captain and have since moved to the middle of the line. I don’t let choreography overwhelm me either. Maybe I didn’t join Ailey like Jeffrey did and tour the world but I have the courage to do so many things that words do not cover them because of this class and this man, time step included.
Thank you Jeffrey. Thank you for pushing me and giving me the ability to dance into the wind. And now I live my life fully and courageously dancing, leaping, spinning, as fast as I can. Above all things my moves are tight, my mind is present, and I am pointing my toes. Love April

Monday, November 15, 2010

Blast From the Past

The other day I looked up a girl I hated online out of morbid curiosity. To make a long story short she was a high school sweetheart of an ex boyfriend of mine that tried to make a comeback when we were together. Fat and sleazy as she was, this dumbass managed to get knocked up before leaving high school. You would feel bad because she was a teen mom right? Oh no, she called me a slut because older guys liked me when meanwhile, when my ex went away to the service she screwed a thirteen year old kid. This bitch called my men cradle robbers, she plucked them out of the womb. This fat reject was also a vocal member of the I Hate April Group when this particular ex started it after we broke up and would bad mouth me every chance she got.
                I was just curious to see what she was up to in hopes maybe she got a life. The last time I checked this woman worked part time at a preschool, liked New Kids On the Block still even though she was pushing thirty, and not to mention she faithfully tuned into Z100 and MTV as if she were a tween girl. While I hated her guts and swore to God I would kick her ass if I ever got the chance something in me always stopped me from throwing the first punch. It was the fact she was a step above the retarded bagger at the local supermarket hired to be there and a quota for the local union.
                Well I checked to see what she was up to. Sure enough nothing had changed. She was as fat as ever and the illegitimate baby she popped out back in the day had gotten as fat as she was. Typically I don’t attack children but this child looked like the poster girl for white trash trailer child. The worst thing was the mother would photograph this child eating. As a cherry on top of the cake this woman bragged about going to the New Kid’s on the Block reunion concert and having Donny kiss her which is horrific in itself not to mention she is pushing freaking thirty. She also lists Justin Beiber amongst her favorite music to listen to. This bitch is old yo. Oh and she lists MTV as her favorite TV station. Yes she still works at the day care center with children which is also frightening.
                I guess what someone once said to me was some people are in what’s called your past, because you pass them up and move on. The crazy thing is, I used to hate this girl and want to pound her face in because she was trying to steal my man. Truth of the matter is my man was a trouble maker who sleazed around whenever he could. Currently he wants to be friends but he is an ex, which means I put the big old X over him and out of my life. What is so sad is that this girl was at my ex’s beckon call after our breakup eager to do his bidding to make my life miserable. It’s because he had been her last boyfriend before some acquaintance she barely tolerated made her pregnant and now she strapped to this man for the rest of her life. She somehow always thought my ex would rescue her when meanwhile he can’t even rescue himself. The worst part is the man who gave her some of the best times in his life gave me some of the worst times in mine.
                This woman, if I dare call her that because she’s got a mature body, though rotund and a tween brain, is right where I left her. In a way I got a laugh because she is as tragic as ever. But in a way I am kind of sad, because she is as tragic as ever.

Stand Back

Just got a message from my ex. He made me give up ventriloquism in order to be with him. I said no. Of course this was up there with controlling how I dressed, who I spoke to, and in the end wanting me to leave my mother. After six months puppet free I left this man. Let me just say I think May was a better decision. Rest assured for as much as she gives  me a headache, she has been with me through bad relationships and heart breaks. Other people ask her for love advice so maybe hers in good. Either way the bitch is going no where, because May Wilson is fierce. 
Alone we cannot do what we do together, and together these two fiece blondes rock

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Random Pics



 A year ago I was performing ventriloquism in WillyB. Miss May and I were nearly attacked by a drunken duranged homeless man after May failed to fulfill his wishes. May, having been through an ordeal, was brave enough to share about all she has been through on national television. Homeless people who seem duranged and puppets apparently do not make a good mix. May is feeling better these days and is making more and more trips out of the case. Unfortunately for a while she was reduced to using drugs and alcohol to deal with the pain of the assault. Still, she is a fighter and that's why we love that slut. I posted this picture because while dealing with assault has been tough for May, this is a photo she loves because she was about to get down and dirty with the microphone



Happy Veterans Day

As we all know today is Veterans Day. We celebrate those who served our country, died in the war or God forbid, went missing in action. To many of us the meaning is lost. The school kids look at this as a day off. For some districts this is when they do the parent teacher conferences and the kids hope they don’t get a bad report for all the shiteous behavior they normally engage in. Other kids catch up on trashy day time talk shows and cartoons. Teachers view it as a day off where they are free from all the screaming Susie’s and Jimmy’s and their equally more annoying errant parents. As for those who work in the banks, the post office or any other government sanctioned position they are sleeping in today counting their blessings that this is one day they have off that many others do not. I must say this is insulting to me as an American.
I have always vocally opposed the war in Iraq. There were no weapons of mass destruction and in the 1980s, we seem to forget, Reagan and Saddam Hussein were friends. However there was oil and money involved and that’s when things went south. Nevermind that unlike the rest of the Arab world, Saddam gave the people universal healthcare, the right to choose, the women were allowed to work, and basically it was a free democratic society. Yes he did kill those that opposed him but what do you call the Patriot Act? However much I opposed the war I will say one thing, I still always supported our troops.
I have several classmates who went to fight in the Middle East. Our local magistrate who was affiliated with the armed service was a military judge in Afghanistan for a tour during that time. The brother of one of my older brother’s former high school football team mates went over to fight in the Middle East. His family put the USMC flag in the front of their window next to the American flag waiting for their son to come home. We all thought George W. Bush was a dufus in my family. However, in church when we prayed for the troops this young man was always at the top of our prayer chain.
Another of my classmates, Russell Kurtz, died in action. Russ was a good guy who was liked by everyone who has the privilege of knowing him. He was a member of the football team, National Honor Society, and a few other clubs. Russ was one of those people who was always laughing and had those around him laughing as well. Despite the fact Russ had good grades he chose to join the military to go to Iraq because he had always wanted join since he was a kid. Though it was war time he didn’t complain, and according to those close to him the only thing he ever griped about was the food in boot camp. Russ was killed in action when his army jeep met with a planted bomb. I would never say my former classmate was a killer or that he died in vain for a useless war and a useless cause. Rather I would call him a hero who served his country who is remembered as he should be on this day.
Then again, Americans are apt to celebrate and remember only what they want to. Take the Vietnam War for example. Unlike the previous wars, none of these men received a hero’s welcome. As a matter of fact many of those guys who fought in one of the most violent wars America had ever encountered were ousted from society. Drafted to end Communism in a country who could never feasibly invade the United States, a draft was imposed. These guys, all the average age nineteen, couldn’t drink or vote but could die for their country. This was truly a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight. Many of the rich stayed in college getting useless advanced degrees while the poor were forced to tough it out in the jungles watching their friends die and deal with boobie traps that included a net revealing a hungry Bangle Tiger as well as the ever present jungle rot.
What was even more criminal was that some of them became POW/MIA. I am not talking John McCain but Antonio R. Sandoval, Jr. He was eighteen years old from San Antonio, Texas when he went POW/MIA. My brother gave me his POW/MIA bracelet for my seventeenth birthday because it had occurred right after 9/11. My mother told me the goal was to wear the bracelet until he was returned. Sandoval was never returned as far as I know, but they think they found his bones a few years ago when the Cambodian government turned them over. While finally a part of him could go home, and for that reason it is important his memory is kept alive and his story is continually told.
Vietnam was something the American government should be ashamed of and the treatment of those veterans was equally as horrific. They had no assistance or jobs coming home. As I said earlier, it was a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight. My dad remembers being a part of the draft lottery and lucking out by getting a high number. However he remembers seeing kids from his block go off to fight in the jungle and coming home in a body bag if they ever came home. One kid who had a crappy home life on my dad’s street even volunteered. Which brings me to another point, many of these guys don’t join the army because they want to fight. It might be to escape a craptacular home situation and this is a viable option that gives them healthcare and a possible career as well as a trade. After the war many of these guys suffered from PTSD as well as drug addiction much like my uncle’ brother who, after many years of going from crack house to crack house with his hooker girlfriend, is now is a nursing home. These men served their country and were shuffled aside like useless lawn flamingos. Should we not take a moment to honor them?
Both my grandfathers served in the Pacific Theatre in World War II. My dad’s dad, whom I never met, went to Japan after the war and told stories about children eating out of trash cans and would get angry when my dad and his siblings would waste food. Hate to say it, for as fucked up as America is we still have it better then the rest of the world, especially the places that we bomb. While dropping the atomic bomb did cost thousands of lives and left a generation of Japanese children suffering from leukemia, it was a move that spared thousands of American lives that would have been lost during a land invasion. Truman was between a rock and a hard place, and in a war there is no true solution that is fair.
My mom’s dad rarely talks about World War II but always says that the Americans respected the Japanese because when the bomb was dropped they went back to work rebuilding their cities. Today the Japanese are some of our strongest allies. Gone are the time of kamkazi pilots and Tojo with a chorus of Tokyo Rose. America makes mistakes too such as putting thousands of Japanese Americans in internment camps when there was not one traitor amongst them. However, while this day is a day to honor our heros today is also a day to remember those mistakes, seeing that we have one in Cuba right now called Guantanamo Bay.
Wars for as much blood shed as they have put forth have also gotten America to be the world super power that it was. In 1763 the British won the French and Indian War taking over a large chunk of North America making English the mother tongue. In 1785 we won our independence from the British making us the first country to have ever defeated this naval and world super power. In 1812 we let the British know we weren’t about to be recaptured and let them force our men to be sailors. (Today they are fabulous allies). In 1836 Texas won it’s independence from Mexico, and then in 1848 the United States kicked Mexico out of Texas, California and most of the Southwest giving us states that are very valuable to the structure for several reasons.  Of course 1865 brought an end to the American Civil War, which pitted brother against brother and not only kept this fledgling republic united but also abolished the inhuman practice of slavery. In 1898 Teddy Roosevelt and Company charged San Juan Hill ending Spanish occupation in North America, making most of Latin America independent, and not to mention giving us Puerto Rico and Guam which serve as military bases as well as fabulous vacation spots. Then in 1918 when World War I the supremacy of monarchy ended officially ended making the United States a world super power. Then in 1945 we helped our European friends whom now needed us to stop an evil tyrant named Adolf Hitler who, though he died, actually planned to invade the US. Yes, we should have been very afraid.
In honoring the veterans, we honor the achievement of men who for better or for worse, did the job of serving their country. I am an outspoken pro-choice advocate who favors gay marriage and universal health care. However, I remember there are men who died for my freedom of speech that I hold so dear and to spout out my opinions as I do without even being solicited. As I pen this entry, I remember these men died for my right to have this here blog. These men did not die in vain but rather with the hope the world could be a better place for the rest of us.
In celebrating Veterans Day we also celebrate our history for better or for worse, how far we have come and where we have yet to improve. In closing I say let gays serve in the military if they want. They are able bodied citizens who love their country and God. Just because someone is gay does not mean they wear a boa when they fire a rifle. Take both Alexander the Great and Richard the Lion Heart, both were as gay as the day is long and both were winning generals who won battles everywhere they went intimidating opponents. Remember that the next time you don’t want them to repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
With that being said, if you can take a few minutes to think of the men and women who served our country or continue to do so. They have done more for you than this blog could ever detail.
With that Happy Veterans Day. Love April

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Hero of the Week: Kyle Maynard

This past weekend in my travels I met two things. One was a TV, something that I do not own. The other was Kyle Maynard. I saw a special on ESPN about this young man. Kyle Maynard is a congenital amputee, which means he was born without arms or legs. To boot he has no elbows or knees. So I guess you could say if we threw him in the middle of the ocean we could call him Bob right?
Wrong. The first part of the documentary details how the poor guy was born without arms or legs. But he doesn’t want us to feel sorry for him. As a kid he played football and began to wrestle. At first he constantly got beat wrestling. I mean, after all, he has no arms or legs. His father spoke about how they had goals for the guy like to win a match. As Kyle began to lose and struggle more, those goals went from winning to making an effort not to get pinned. However soon the anger began to rise up in Kyle and this muscular trunk of a lad began to win the matches. All these opponents began to know that Stubby McGee was a force to be reckoned with, and he got the starting spot on his high school’s wrestling team. I was glad it happened for the guy watching it. After all, he was working his heart out.
During the special they spoke about Kyle’s quest to fight in the MMA. They kept denying him saying it was too dangerous and that he would get killed. However, Kyle was training pretty hard. Part of me wanted to laugh as he ran around the gym looking like a hamster but the other part of me was rooting for the dude. When he got permission to fight and lost I was heart broken, because after all he had worked so hard and was so talented as a wrestler and had he closed on his opponent more maybe he could have won the fight. However there will be other fights. This is only the beginning of great things for Kyle Maynard.
Watching Kyle Maynard and hearing him speak, it is not hard to fall in love with him. The guy was born with a visible disadvantage but doesn’t make any excuses. He doesn’t give up when he can’t do something right away but rather adapts. When he falls down he only gets back up to work harder. Not to mention Kyle has never once in the evidence that I’ve seen felt sorry for himself or tried to elicit sympathy from others. Rather, he works with what he has and as a result won the World’s Strongest Teen Contest a few years ago. Because he makes no excuses Kyle lives a full productive life that includes not only a career as a wrestler and fighter but as a gym owner of No Excuses Gym, a motivational speaker, author, and male model. In addition Kyle also works with veterans from Iraq who have lost limbs. Not to mention he has a lot of friends who don’t see him as disabled, and a lot of fellow fighters who see him as a fierce opponent. And he has a smoking hot girlfriend.
My friend Joey Sanders once said it best. “In this world we have a strike or two against us so we have to work with it.” Kyle Maynard isn’t just doing the best he can with what he has. He is doing better than good. All and all, it is working out for him.
Being a champion in more ways than one, he is easily my winner of the week. All do respect, I would never call him Bob or Stubby McGee to his face. Because rest assured he could probably kick my ass on the mat or at the gym.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Leave Amber Alone

Anyone who watches MTV's Teen Mom knows that Amber Portwood hit her waste of human flesh sometimes fiance Gary Shirley. When have you known anyone named Gary to be employed and to be worth anything. For one, there is Gary Coleman. I mean, they are both fat pieces of white trash. They took their damn kid to a candy store and the child was running around eating candy on the floor. Truth be told, they are straight out of the trailor park. Once Gary goes Amber have a tummy tuck, spray on more fake tan, smoke more cigarettes, and this college drop out will do what she does best. Date ex-cons, losers, and get knocked up. Her fame will eventually fade and her next television credit will be Maury. So what she hits her fiance? If Gary were a true white trash man with some balls he would slap that bitch back. Why do I even care? God I am dumber for having written this.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Introducing Sweetie Pie Kincaid

This little puppet loves to learn to read, is currently learning cursive though it is no longer cool, and wants a pet alligator. She was truant from school the other day which is a problem. She is a Toronto Maple Leafs fan which isnt so bad I suppose. Either way, she is impressionable which makes me hate that she spends so much time with May. The last thing I need is for her to learn bad words.

May's Many Lives


 
Actress, comedian and puppet May Wilson is guilty of living nine lives. However, with each of her lives she gets better looking. This is May at the beginning of her genisis years ago when my Aunt Helen gave a Charlie McCarthy Doll a sex change. Since then May has been causing more trouble than I would care to mention and has had numerous brushes with the law. Last night she tied Teddy Ruxbin up and demanded this bear not leave until she was satisfied. While Teddy;s career fizzled out in the 80s May views him as rockin and ready. Sigh, damn puppets are always causing trouble.

When May was innocent....if such a day ever existed

Pregnant Pause

April is whining that her classmates are all having children and she isn't. When April complained about this I told her having a child would make her fat and she would need liposuction. Plus the guys April tends to date are unemployed and have been to prison. I could not bear April having a child. Not only would it make her coochie freeto stretch like Free Willy, but those stretch marks would make ex cons not even want her. I myself binge and purge and tell myself all that puking makes me pregnant bi-proxy. Call me shallow but April is a lost soul and I care. xoxox May Wilson
 
 

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Will You Still Love Me, Tomorrow? (The Shirelles)

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the past. I see a lot of my high school classmates on facebook are married and have kids. Others of my college classmates are engaged and on their way to making babies. It was only yesterday we were all hearing the bell ring and going to third period. It was only yesterday that I was dressed in too much makeup and had my Groucho Marx doll. It was only yesterday I needed knee pads for my freshmen movement class with Joanne. It was only yesterday I had dance class with Jeffrey and he rode my ass like a rented mule about staying focused, staying in the moment, and making me believe I could do anything. It was only yesterday I was on my way to Pips to do a set riding the Q train in the dead of the night and returning pretty much blitzed but having a good story that had it’s climax at El Greco’s. Then of course there was Kohli’s speech class and then the open mic at Boston.
As for guys, between seventeen and my early twenties was such a tender and innocent time. I still remember being seventeen and having the guy I wanted to take me to the dance flat out reject me. These days I would be moving and grooving reminding him about how I am doing well and it is his loss. In those days I just went to my room, closed the door, and balled my eyes out. Was it a pathetic reaction? Probably. But I was just a kid. I combed my hair before bed. I worked bagging groceries at the supermarket. My Saturdays were spent taking dance and acting classes in the city. Working towards an ultimate goal was my main objective. I had never been kissed and just wanted that much. Was that such a hefty request?
Heck eighteen felt better but it really wasn’t. There was a friend things sort of got complicated with. He was a bad boy and I was a good girl. I still remember the smell of Marlboro Reds and his beat up Caddie. I really dug him but was too shy to tell him. Plus he was the kind of boyfriend that my dad would have greeted with a shotgun. Still heartbreak sucks no matter how young or old you are. The difference is that you just learn to deal with it. The crazy thing is, after him I dated a slew of the worst guys. They were all mother’s nightmares at the core. I didn’t go after them but just like my friend had they found me and I fell for them all the same. While in the end my heart was usually broken I just couldn’t stop myself.
These days when my friends tell me they are in love I can usually find fault with Mister or Missus Right. Usually I am correct, that’s the sad part. Still in a way I wish I were wrong. I wish I were bright eyed, bushy tailed and had an open heart when it came to love. I wish a guy doesn’t ask me out and after the check comes I ask, “So how are we splitting this and who’s leaving the tip?” Not to mention poetry, when a guy reads me a love poem I want it to be an original instead of a plagiarized mixture of William Blake and Shakespeare. Trust me, I know my poetry seeing that I was a lit minor in college and that before settling on theatre as a major I juggled the idea of either being a Literature or History Professor. Then the lines, oh please.
But I want to go back to a time in my life where I believed in all the fairy tales before I realized that Disney corrupted my mind. I want to believe those love poems are real and not ripped out of the pages of a book. I want to know the guy will pay on the first date even if we have to dine and dash. Then again they say once you become a pickle you can never be a cucumber again.
Last night I was cleaning and watched Peggy Sue Got Married and Moonstruck. Both good pics and masterpieces. Nicholas Cage says it best in Moonstruck, “Love isn’t always nice or pretty.” He is damn right about that. Still for once I wish it was all tied up in a bow with a happy ending like in While You Were Sleeping.
Sigh, Hollywood has corrupted my mind.
Love April