I have taken on several big projects lately. One is a musical version of my book. The other is the audio version. I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel with my audiobook which is good. I am still amazed I am doing it.
I entered the studio to see Hernan Santiago, who is a platinum record producing sound engineer headed home. He had been in the studio since Friday and hadn't slept in two days. We talked briefly about stuff, shot the breeze. For the most part he is a sweet, quiet guy. You would never know he has the dog ears. Yes, his ears don't miss anything. Anyway he was headed home to catch some zzzzz's.
When I went in today my usual sound guy was out getting his life together. He left me in the hands of his intern. While the dude seemed capable it scared me a little. Granted, my boy was getting much needed sleep I was like, "AHHH!!!!" Would this dude know what he was doing? Plus this was a change of routine.
Well I was pleasantly surprised. Not only was he excellent and on task, but his ears didnt miss anything. Whenever I would do something he would stop me from time to time and say, "Do it again. You can do it better." I was like McDamn Damn. Needless to say I am lucky he didnt kill me. I was reading the chapter in my misadventures about a stalker gram sent by a cray cray woman and all the chaos that sort of followed. There were parts of the reading where I just started laughing and we had to redo them. Then he started laughing. He is a cutie like that. But yes, he was patient as hell with me and caught everything. We were talking and he said, "I am like Hernan. I have dog ears." McDamn Damn.
It was a very productive session and I was done by noon. When I got out I decided to go to church. Because most of my Sunday's are spent in the studio I haven't been going as regularly as I would like. I stop in during the week but that's not the same. I grew up going every Sunday and feel weird when I don't. Plus it is Lent. I am not super religious Catholic. I have gay friends, am pro-choice, and not to mention question the Bible quite frequently. But Catholic is one of those things you can't escape. I feel the need to eat fish every Friday. I give up things for Lent like gossipping, but it is an epic fail with all the gay friends I have.
This particular church has a lot of relics. My mom prayed with Holy Water from crazy places growing up and would sprinkle some on me the morning of a math test. I don't know if they are powerful or not but some do believe. My Mema Ralph, who is currently reading my book, has told me that I have to ask God for a nice Catholic boy. Part of me enjoys being single, and then part of me wants a man from time to time. But then I remember men are a pain in the ass and are needy as hell. And then they start to complain about being Mr. April Brucker when it discovered who the true pants wearer in the house is. Not to mention it never ends well with me an men. The ex fiance turned out to be a psychopath who beat me and deprived me of my puppets. The guy after him turned out to be a liar who had a list of psychological ailments and used them as a bragging right. The ex fiance stalked me with the help of his former girlfriends. The other guy isn't stalking me, he is just drinking on top of his psych meds. On the other hand, his current girlfriend is obsessed with me and does stalk me from time to time, but then her drug habit takes over and she is thus otherwise occupied. Of course there was Holden Caulfield. He is the man of my heart still, it's just that combined with this drug problem, alcoholism, mental illness he refuses to take meds for, and troubles with the law technically making him a fugitive it was hard to make a home. After him was Kindred Spirit, who led me to believe he liked me when he was just using me to revive his dead career. Sure, he had cache in the clubs that I didn't. But he was broke, unemployed, and hadnt been on TV in years whereas I was everywhere.
I just want to point out that all these men were Catholic. I shouldn't look in the Catholic Church for a man. I was thinking of going Jewish but then I remembered when I was twenty a Jewish man broke my heart. Dimsdale who was quite famous was Jewish, as a matter of fact he had been an Orthodox Rabbi before hitting it big in show biz. But this holy man had other issues, one being a woman who claims to be his love child.
Then I thought of it. Maybe I should go Protestant, but they are just like decaf coffee. While it is coffee it doesnt give me the kick. Then it hit me, SATANIST! Sure, it might make my mother's head explode. But compared to all the other freaks of nature I have had is this so bad?
For as crazy as it is sometimes I want someone to hold me. But then eventually they will want me to give up my career, have children, and be their slave. I can wait until I am at least fifty for that. I enjoy my freedom too much to have it taken away.
As I walked home a wave of fear hit me. I began to panic that time was running out, that my dreams would not come true. I dreaded over the work of all my projects. How sometimes I just wanted to drop the ball on this damn audiobook. Studio time is mad expensive and I pay out of my own pocket. How I wanted to crumple my musical in a ball and have someone else write it. Fuck actors, fuck composers, fuck all. My mother said these were just hoops. How would she know? Granted, she is almost always right.
That I wouldn't get my turn. Then I remembered my session in the studio. I remembered walking in, unsure of what to expect when my normal guy wasnt there. I remembered not knowing what I was getting. Then I remembered his attention to detail. I remembered his dog ears, capturing every little sound in the room. I remembered how thrilled I was that he was so on task and how good I sounded when we were done. When you meet someone with a gift like that it is not just impressive but a blessing. That's when I realized I was in good hands. Perhaps heaven had sent me an angel, if there are such things.
And maybe, just maybe, whatever was up there had answered my prayers after all
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available at 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
E-Book available at Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available in the Spring of 2103
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
I entered the studio to see Hernan Santiago, who is a platinum record producing sound engineer headed home. He had been in the studio since Friday and hadn't slept in two days. We talked briefly about stuff, shot the breeze. For the most part he is a sweet, quiet guy. You would never know he has the dog ears. Yes, his ears don't miss anything. Anyway he was headed home to catch some zzzzz's.
When I went in today my usual sound guy was out getting his life together. He left me in the hands of his intern. While the dude seemed capable it scared me a little. Granted, my boy was getting much needed sleep I was like, "AHHH!!!!" Would this dude know what he was doing? Plus this was a change of routine.
Well I was pleasantly surprised. Not only was he excellent and on task, but his ears didnt miss anything. Whenever I would do something he would stop me from time to time and say, "Do it again. You can do it better." I was like McDamn Damn. Needless to say I am lucky he didnt kill me. I was reading the chapter in my misadventures about a stalker gram sent by a cray cray woman and all the chaos that sort of followed. There were parts of the reading where I just started laughing and we had to redo them. Then he started laughing. He is a cutie like that. But yes, he was patient as hell with me and caught everything. We were talking and he said, "I am like Hernan. I have dog ears." McDamn Damn.
It was a very productive session and I was done by noon. When I got out I decided to go to church. Because most of my Sunday's are spent in the studio I haven't been going as regularly as I would like. I stop in during the week but that's not the same. I grew up going every Sunday and feel weird when I don't. Plus it is Lent. I am not super religious Catholic. I have gay friends, am pro-choice, and not to mention question the Bible quite frequently. But Catholic is one of those things you can't escape. I feel the need to eat fish every Friday. I give up things for Lent like gossipping, but it is an epic fail with all the gay friends I have.
This particular church has a lot of relics. My mom prayed with Holy Water from crazy places growing up and would sprinkle some on me the morning of a math test. I don't know if they are powerful or not but some do believe. My Mema Ralph, who is currently reading my book, has told me that I have to ask God for a nice Catholic boy. Part of me enjoys being single, and then part of me wants a man from time to time. But then I remember men are a pain in the ass and are needy as hell. And then they start to complain about being Mr. April Brucker when it discovered who the true pants wearer in the house is. Not to mention it never ends well with me an men. The ex fiance turned out to be a psychopath who beat me and deprived me of my puppets. The guy after him turned out to be a liar who had a list of psychological ailments and used them as a bragging right. The ex fiance stalked me with the help of his former girlfriends. The other guy isn't stalking me, he is just drinking on top of his psych meds. On the other hand, his current girlfriend is obsessed with me and does stalk me from time to time, but then her drug habit takes over and she is thus otherwise occupied. Of course there was Holden Caulfield. He is the man of my heart still, it's just that combined with this drug problem, alcoholism, mental illness he refuses to take meds for, and troubles with the law technically making him a fugitive it was hard to make a home. After him was Kindred Spirit, who led me to believe he liked me when he was just using me to revive his dead career. Sure, he had cache in the clubs that I didn't. But he was broke, unemployed, and hadnt been on TV in years whereas I was everywhere.
I just want to point out that all these men were Catholic. I shouldn't look in the Catholic Church for a man. I was thinking of going Jewish but then I remembered when I was twenty a Jewish man broke my heart. Dimsdale who was quite famous was Jewish, as a matter of fact he had been an Orthodox Rabbi before hitting it big in show biz. But this holy man had other issues, one being a woman who claims to be his love child.
Then I thought of it. Maybe I should go Protestant, but they are just like decaf coffee. While it is coffee it doesnt give me the kick. Then it hit me, SATANIST! Sure, it might make my mother's head explode. But compared to all the other freaks of nature I have had is this so bad?
For as crazy as it is sometimes I want someone to hold me. But then eventually they will want me to give up my career, have children, and be their slave. I can wait until I am at least fifty for that. I enjoy my freedom too much to have it taken away.
As I walked home a wave of fear hit me. I began to panic that time was running out, that my dreams would not come true. I dreaded over the work of all my projects. How sometimes I just wanted to drop the ball on this damn audiobook. Studio time is mad expensive and I pay out of my own pocket. How I wanted to crumple my musical in a ball and have someone else write it. Fuck actors, fuck composers, fuck all. My mother said these were just hoops. How would she know? Granted, she is almost always right.
That I wouldn't get my turn. Then I remembered my session in the studio. I remembered walking in, unsure of what to expect when my normal guy wasnt there. I remembered not knowing what I was getting. Then I remembered his attention to detail. I remembered his dog ears, capturing every little sound in the room. I remembered how thrilled I was that he was so on task and how good I sounded when we were done. When you meet someone with a gift like that it is not just impressive but a blessing. That's when I realized I was in good hands. Perhaps heaven had sent me an angel, if there are such things.
And maybe, just maybe, whatever was up there had answered my prayers after all
Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available at 877-Buy-Book, Amazon.com
E-Book available at Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available in the Spring of 2103
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN
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