Tag Archives: Aprill Brandon

2022 Family Performance Review

Posted on January 11, 2022 | 8 comments

First off, let me begin by thanking you all for making time in your busy schedules to attend this Family Meeting. I know that since the acquisition of the Nintendo Switch last quarter, many of us have been swamped with Mario Kart and the subsequent onslaught of Mario Kart trash talking.

However, with a new year upon us, I thought it would be a good time for the four of us to sit down and assess, as a family, how we’re doing. Especially as we enter, let’s see… *checks clipboard* …yup, year three of this godforsaken pandemic. 

Now, we’ve pushed this off for far too long, so to help keep us on track, I will be using this free employee performance review template I found online. I think we can all agree we don’t want this meeting to devolve into the Good Winners & Losers Discussion/Tater Tot Dodgeball Disaster of 2020. 

Alright, let’s see, let’s see. How about we start with something easy? Ah, here we are…

Attendance. Well, pffft. I mean, I think it’s fair to say we’ve all excelled at that. What with all the remote schooling you two did last year, and Daddy working from home since…forever? With his office just RIGHT HERE in the living room. Always typing. And talking with his ZOOM VOICE. When are you going back to the office again, sweetie? Not until spring now? Ah. Awesome. Awesome. Well, it’s a good thing that constantly being around each other in a somehow eternally shrinking house makes the heart grow fonder then. 

Okey-dokey, moving on…

Demonstration of core values: Hmm. Do we have core values as a family? Honesty? Meh, I suppose. Cheese? Is that a core value? We did expand to two cheese drawers in the fridge last year. One for fancy cheese and one for peasant cheese. That counts, right? 

Communicates clearly: Oh, well, overall I’d say we’ve done pretty well with this one. We are definitely loud. In fact, it’s hard not to hear all the communicating, as our neighbors have informed us many, many times. …What’s that? Ah, yeah, I suppose I could growl less at you. It just gets the point across so effectively, you know? Can I at least hiss? Yes, you can hiss back. 

Requires minimum supervision: Nope. Fail. You all fail. Moving on. 

Responsiveness in a timely manner: FAIL. Moving on. …Oh, you disagree? Really? Remember when I asked you to clean all the comic books out from under your bed? Three months ago? MOVING. ON. 

Works to full potential: Ugh. Who has the time? Next…

Problem solving: This one I feel we actually did pretty decently. We fixed the off-balance dishwasher with the sugar canister and those two menus from Pini’s. The duct tape is holding up the towel rack quite nicely and you can hardly notice the big hole in the ceiling since we glued that piece of cardboard up there. 

Takes initiative: I’d like to give a special shoutout to our kindergartner on this one. She definitely took the lead in demonstrating that you can both figuratively AND literally climb the walls if you have a wanton disregard for any and all household items. AND that swinging from the chandelier is not just a fun expression for having a good time. Yes, you’re still grounded. 

Deals with conflict: I’ll be honest, we could all use less swords in this area. And Nerf crossbows. Speaking of which, how did we amass so many crossbows? Eighteen seems a bit excessive. 

Listens and shows respect toward fellow group members: Again, this is an area that could use significantly fewer weapons.

Suggested areas of improvement: All? Probably starting with pants. We should definitely be wearing them. Oh, and how about screen time? I’m told there should be limits. And our eating habits could use some tweaking. You guys call cherry tomatoes those gross red grapes. Well, yes, I agree, they are super gross but the point is to at least make the effort. I mean, haha, we can’t always behave like we’re living through a pandemic. 

What’s that? The numbers are going up? Oh, record high numbers, in fact. Everything is in danger of shutting down again? Hospitals overflowing because of the Omicron variant? Wait, what? Now there is talk of a fused “deltacron” strain?

Ah. 

Well.

BIG CURSE WORD.

No, you can’t repeat that. 

Alright everyone. Pants back off. Who wants a brick of cheese for dinner? Brick of cheese? Brick of cheese? Maybe with a side of box o’ wine for mama? Of course we can play Mario Kart while we eat. I look forward to crushing all you losers. But first, has anyone seen my sword? 

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Posted in Family, Food, funny, Health, Humor, Parenting

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Bye Aprill Brandon

Posted on March 21, 2021 | 17 comments

I didn’t realize it at first. It dawned slowly as I stared unblinking at it. Three little words but they were all mine. They were all I had ever wanted. My name. An actual byline. In print. 

That was 20 years ago. Since then I’ve seen it in newsprint, glossy magazine pages, slick media websites and my own shoddily constructed blog site, Chick Writes Stuff. All these years later, I still feel a bit of a thrill when I see it. 

But this is my last one. I’m ending my humor column. 

No one is more surprised than I am. I planned to write my last column on my deathbed. Laughing defiantly until the end.

But as the old saying goes, humor is tragedy plus time. And there is no time anymore. It’s all just one tragedy piled on top of another piled on top of another. There doesn’t even seem time to take a breath let alone process the broken world that won’t stop fracturing. 

Which is funny because that’s how all this got started. As a preteen I was overwhelmed by everything. Every day felt like the world was ending. I’d lay awake at night, trying to think of all the awful things that could happen because I believed if I thought of it first it couldn’t happen in real life. Because I was an 11-year-old girl and the only power I had was superstition. 

And then, like a deus ex machina by way of Florida, I discovered Dave Barry. I devoured every column of his I could get my eyes on. It was remarkable. Possibly even witchcraft. He taught me that if you could make fun of something, if you could laugh at it, it lost some of its power. 

This was doubly true when you could find a way to laugh at yourself. Laughter seemed to quiet the inner demons. 

I wanted to wield that magic like he did and make the world a slightly less awful place. To be a tiny flicker of levity, no matter how inconsequential, in the crushing darkness. 

But I can no longer write my way out of this darkness. I’ve tried. I’ve sat down before my computer every day for months. Whatever does manage to come out is forced. I am too angry. Bitter. Sad. I didn’t realize how much faith in humanity I had until I lost most of it. 

And without hope I can’t find the humor anymore. 

I wish I had a better exit than this. I mean, 20 years. Half of my life. This dream job of mine deserves a proper eulogy. 

But honestly I just want to get this last one over with. It hurts too much to linger. 

And so, let me end this ending by saying it has been my immense privilege writing for you, whoever you are out there reading this. I was never hugely popular, only ever with a small following (and even then that is stretching that concept to its limit) as I moved across this country over the years. But I loved it, all of it, none more so than when someone told me I made them laugh. I cannot thank you enough for reading so I won’t even try. 

And to my editors, I still can’t quite believe I found actual live human beings to publish my words. Thank you all for letting me live out my fantasy. Especially to Editor Bob, my Bobbert, Bob Robinson, the man who gave me my very first column when I was 20. And especially to my editors over the years at the Victoria Advocate, who will be publishing my last as I am on the cusp of 40. You took a chance on me. You believed in me. Every writer deserves editors like you. Every person deserves people like you in their corner. 

I hope one day to write again. To laugh again. To type something immeasurably witty about the Grim Reaper right before he takes me. 

But for now I just…

…don’t know how to end that sentence anymore. 

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Posted in funny, Humor, Politics, Pop Culture, Writing

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Quarantine Letters from the Home Front

Posted on March 23, 2020 | 3 comments

March 12, 2020

My Dearest Husband, 

It feels like yesterday I held you in my arms, only for us to be ripped apart by this cursed virus that is sweeping across the country. What I wouldn’t give to see your face again. Alas, I know you must do your duty, though it is a most difficult one, and figure out how to turn our diminutive bedroom into a viable home office. 

Though only a door separates us, it may as well be an ocean. For you are a world away, valiantly battling the Zoom app with its broken video link and internally struggling with the weighty decision of whether you care if your boss sees you in your pajamas, whilst I stay on this side, taking care of hearth and home in my yoga pants. We are walking an unknown road together yet apart, my love. But never doubt where my heart lies. 

The children send you their deepest affection and this drawing of a pirate ninja unicorn. 

With All My Love, 

Your Devoted Wife

 

March 13, 2020

My Darling Husband, 

I thought perhaps I saw a glimpse of your unshaven face shuffling around in your robe early this morn and my heart leapt at the sight of it. But by the time I called out, this specter had already refilled his coffee mug and disappeared back into the murky depths of the bedroom. Oh, my beloved, when will the world return to normal? I fear we will not come out of this as the same people we once were. 

To distract myself, I am helping our eldest learn to read. His teacher has been most accommodating, sending numerous worksheets to be printed out at home and link after link after link of educational things we ought to be doing. I admit it is most overwhelming but I find courage within myself by imagining how burdensome it is for families across this nation of ours and knowing I must do my part as well. 

Eternally Yours,

Your Faithful Bride

 

March 16, 2020

Dearest Love, 

I am trying, somewhat in vain, to remember how hard all this must be on our children. The world has gone mad and if their mother cannot make much sense of it, what chance have their young minds?

Yet, I still do not feel that is a reasonable excuse to steal all my lipsticks and paint the dog in various vibrant and long-lasting hues. Oh yes, that is indeed what your children just did. The little one also blew a raspberry in my face when I divulged to her that there would be no cookies for breakfast. 

Well, as you can imagine, it took everything I had to spare any and all rods. But as it says in the scriptures, children are a gift and a reward. Although if I do recall correctly, Jesus never had any children of his own and God stopped after one. 

I feel my delicate constitution cannot take much more of this, dearest. Which is why I drank all your beer. 

Love,

Your Temporarily Jovial Spouse

 

March 17, 2020

Dear Husband, 

As I write this, it is late morning. A dreary, rainy morning sure to turn into a dreary, rainy afternoon. Already the children have broken a chair and the hound has vomited on the rug before deciding to poop in the only room that has carpet. ‘Tis not quite the auspicious day I was hoping it would be. 

But I strive to take heart in the small things, such as it being the Day of Saint Patrick. I felt it only appropriate to participate in the festivities, if but alone. And early. 

Relatedly, we are out of wine. Also the vodka from the freezer is gone. 

P.S. Did you eat my leftovers? They were clearly labeled with my name, darling. If you wanted eggrolls, you should have ordered some for yourself when I asked what you wanted from Golden Dragon yesterday. 

Signed,

Your Hangry Wife

 

March 18, 2020

Husband,

Supplies are low and morale is flagging. I had to squash a coup d’etat when word got out that there were no more fish sticks. I know it is a fraught journey to the grocery store in these awful and uncertain times but seeing as how I am hungover (you know my delicate constitution) I feel it is essential that you go. 

I will miss you, oh husband of mine, as you embark on this treacherous voyage. But how lucky am I to have such a considerate partner who leaves behind dirty socks all over the house as a constant reminder of his presence in our life during these troublesome days. 

Regards,

Wife

 

March 20, 2020

To Whom It May Concern,

I’m going for a walk. I threw an entire box of Cheerios on the floor so the urchins should be occupied for awhile. I am uncertain of when I shall return. 

P.S. The children set the kitchen on fire.

 

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Posted in Education, Family, Food, funny, Health, Humor, Marriage, Parenting, Pets, Women, Writing

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Mommy and the Purple Crayon

Posted on September 15, 2015 | 2 comments

harold1 harold2 harold3 harold4 harold5 harold6 harold7 harold8

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Posted in Books, Family, Humor, Parenting, Women

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New year, new blog title

Posted on January 8, 2015 | Leave a comment

Say hello to Chick Writes Stuff.*

Don’t worry. Nothing else will change. The web address is still aprillbrandon.com. The writing will be the same. And believe you me, my art skills have NOT improved (if anything, they’ve regressed).

I’ve just never really liked the original title (which I thought of four years ago after taking a Tylenol PM and drinking a vodka and cranberry).

*Thanks go out to my good friend Nick for the suggestion.

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This one is dedicated to all of you

Posted on May 31, 2013 | 4 comments

Hey, you know how when you have really, really good news and you want to tell everyone you know about it? For that matter, everyone you don’t know? In fact, you want to practically shout it in their faces because you’re so excited? Because it’s just the best news ever? A dream come true? But then you’re not quite sure how to do that without looking like you’re a bragging stuck-up snob? So instead you just sort of downplay the whole thing?

Yeah.

So I published a book.

(Did it work? Did I hit that sweet spot between proud yet nonchalant?)

Don’t get me wrong. I’m extremely happy about this accomplishment. Giddy even. It was No. 1 on my bucket list: Become an author. And after ten years working as a humor columnist, where I documented my transition to adulthood, I finally had enough material to write a tongue-in-cheek guide to growing up, from post-college to turning 30.

To be honest, it’s one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. But don’t take my word for it. The early reviews speak for themselves:

“This is the greatest book ever written ever. I’m so proud of you, honey! Also, are you eating enough? You look skinny in your author photo.” –Aprill’s mom

“Holy crap, you wrote a book? I thought you were just playing Candy Crush on the computer.” –Aprill’s husband

“Who is this? I told you to stop calling here.” –Whoever answers the phone at the New York Times Book Review

“…*fart*…” –Aprill’s dog

It wasn’t easy. As they say, dreams come true, not free. So, the past several months were spent like this:

The Writing Process

Book writing

Book writing 2

Book writing 3

The Editing Process

Book writing 4

Book writing 5

The Publishing Process

Book writing 6

(That’s…uh…that’s all I really remember about this part).

But it’s done. And all that hard work was worth it. My book, “Why Does the Cheese Always Fall? (A Guide to Faking Adulthood)” is now out there in the world.

why-the-cheese4

Specifically out there at Smashwords.com, an indie author website where it is available to download on all Apple and Kindle products and pretty much any other electronic device you have, and also now available at Amazon.

For only $2.99.

(Did I hit that sweet spot between giving you information and blatantly marketing my book to you?)

The only thing missing from it is a dedication page, which was not included because I completely forgot about it. So, if I may, I’d like to add that part here.

To all the indie authors and writers with stacks of rejection letters in their desks, who slave away writing day and night because they know no other way than to write, this book is dedicated to you.

To all the local musicians, wherever you’re from, who practice and tour and play tiny, tiny bars only to get paid in beer year after year because they know no other way than to play music, this book is dedicated to you.

To the artists, who work day jobs and then come home and stay up half the night working on their masterpieces because they know no other way than to create, this book is dedicated to you.

To anyone who has ever had a dream, because they know no other way than to dream, this book is dedicated to you.

So go buy it.

(Did I hit that sweet spot between genuine and yet desperate for money?)

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I’m a better housekeeper than NASA

Posted on February 22, 2012 | 2 comments

Oh, you read me right. I am officially better than some of the most brilliant minds on the planet at keeping my shiz in order. I may have dust bunnies the size of Sam Winchester* under my bed, but at least my trash isn’t orbiting the Earth and threatening to decimate Idaho.

Aprill: 1

Astrophysicists: 0

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Now, not to sound like these guys:

But did you guys read that article in the New York Times about how we are only just now considering doing something about the huge amount of space junk we so generously left behind for the past 50 years? Apparently, it’s becoming a hazard. Like, “hey, there are 20,000 pieces of junk just hanging out up there and most are the size of a Greyhound bus” kind of hazard.

Yes, we take the same healthy attitude of “meh” toward destroying space as we do with our very own planet.  

Luckily, the same brilliant minds who never considered the consequences of leaving huge piles of crap right above our heads have also come up with totally viable solutions to clean up their mess. In no particular order of ridiculousness, they are:

  • A giant net to round up wayward items
  • Giant balloons that would nudge wayward items away and make them Venus’ problem
  • Firing lasers from the ground
  • An $11 million vacuum cleaner called “CleanSpace One”

But perhaps my favorite idea is the Celestial Broom.**

If you’re having trouble picturing that, never fear. I drew a visual aid:

Now, I know I’ve written about my lack of domestic skills before (here and here and here, for example), and I’m not going to lie, I used to beat myself up about it.

But HA! Not anymore. Cause while I may currently be going commando because I’ve been too lazy to do laundry for three weeks, at least my mess isn’t large enough to warrant our Martian neighbors giving the TV show “Hoarders” a call.

*Bonus points for you if you get that nerdy reference

**Which would also make a great band name…DIBS!

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Woman spontaneously combusting

Posted on February 8, 2012 | 2 comments

So, regarding the title of this post…

1. That’s a kickass band name and you know it.

2. That is just one of the many random search engine terms that led unwitting civilians to this very site.

Yes, apparently while I (foolishly) thought I was just writing about trying to survive adulthood and the wacky twists and turns life takes as you get older, the Internet had a much more…shall we say…subjective point of view of this website.

Naturally, after discovering that Google (or AltaVista if you are still living in 1995) had taken it upon itself to connect me and my writing to the idea of (quite literally) being a hot mess, I decided to do some investigating and find out just what other terms Google thinks suits me. And lucky for me, my host WordPress keeps a very detailed log. 

Now, I’ll admit, some of these terms excited me and made me feel like I was getting somewhere with my writing career. For example, I am apparently the leading Internet expert on motorboating considering the amount of people led to my blog via typing in “Motorboat me,” “Irishman motorboating you” and “My guy friends motorboat me.”

I am also apparently one of the top results for “black friday poems,” so…yeah. Suck it, Emily Dickinson.

I’m also apparently a “mom I’d like to do” even though I don’t have kids and someone who is in the know about “brownies busted for underage drinking” even though I was never actually in the brownies nor have I ever written about them (although I might have some knowledge of underage drinking but in my defense it was a Zima and the cop was kind of a douchebag).

But perhaps the one I’m must proud about is “kerfluffin ring,” a term I, well, at least thought I made up but apparently at least one other person in this world was just as drunk while typing and happened to hit the same random number of keys in the exact same order as I did.

Of course, this journey down “Search Engine Term” lane hasn’t been all positive. Some of the phrases and ideas people looked up and then were brought into my web were less than…flattering. So let me break them down for you.  

(And just as a reminder, these are all exact terms that led people to click on this site).

Terms that make me think I should really re-evaluate my life:

Hangover

Expletive

Old woman in a corset drinking a beer

Cookies for you in my fanny pack

I love my big lady and she loves me *

*I’m only a size 8, Google. Back off.

Sluty [sic] wifes [sic] in Xmas outfit

Hiccups girl drunk -mee -murder

You aren’t funny, hobo

How to deal with feeling hor **

**I’m assuming they meant “horny” with that last word but apparently my website popped up so fast they didn’t even have to finish typing it.

Terms that might possibly make my husband think he should re-evaluate his life and/or his association with me:

My husband is exhausting

Do I talk to my wife about my inferiority complex?

I’m starting to hate my wife

Pictures of mixed girls that r kinda fat not to [sic] much

Snort emergen-C

Other search engine terms that led people to this website that would also make a kickass band name:

Drunk Monkey

Tom Felton Hairloss (and/or Breaking Hairloss News)

Forced Corset Corpse***

***I swear I am NOT making these up.

Florida Baby Grasshoppers

Uncles Noogies Wedgies

Spider Corpse

Plain Hotdog

Terms I’m considering for my future autobiography:

Lady dragging Christmas tree

Abused woman driving bald tires

Apologize to mom

Motivation when broke

Terms that would make a good title for my dog Buffy’s autobiography:

A dog running away from its house

And terms that are just downright Google being an asshole:

Fat woman in jungle

Muumuu Boston

Unwanted facial in public

Honorable mention:

Is there a serial killer in the tri-state area?

How can a woman deal with a border collie knote (?!?) **** in the ass

**** The (?!?) is my addition

So, all in all, I think we can agree I’m on the right career track *****

***** She says sobbing as she mixes a bottle of wine with a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream 

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Reason No. 513 why I shouldn’t quit my day job

Posted on June 30, 2011 | 1 comment

Hey kids,

Wanna play a fun drinking game? Then listen to my dear friend Dennis interview me on his Blog Talk Radio show and take a shot every time you hear me say “um” or “like.”

I guarantee you’ll be wasted by minute seven.

And if you can’t manage to make it through my Mid-west, Valley Girl way of speaking, you should at least check out his other interviews with other writers and creative types. They’re fun and insightful and not chock full of awkward giggles.

Luckily, I am not a public speaker by trade, so you can check out the much less annoying edited and censored me via my latest post on DigBoston.com (edited by REAL professionals for your reading pleasure).

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I’m really starting to hate you, Mark Zuckerberg

Posted on June 21, 2011 | Leave a comment

Well, it finally came. My 30th birthday was Monday (meaning when people now ask me my age, my go-to response henceforth will be “vintage”…and for them to “stop being so damn nosy”).

It ended up being a really good birthday. Well, except for the morning, which was spent trying to clean up a VERY BAD dog who thought a wonderful gift to his owner would be rolling around in some other dog’s fresh poo (consequently, he is now on canine probation).

But the afternoon was spent with my friend Patrick, where we had a shamelessly nerdy time drinking at coffeehouses, perusing used book stores and discussing “Battlestar Galactica” over beer (or to sum up for fans of “The Office”: Books. Beers. Battlestar Galactica.). And the evening was spent drinking wine with my husband and watching a penis-shrinking chick flick.

And then, as night rolled around, I spent the next three hours on my laptop, frantically trying to respond to the 900 million or so posts I received on Facebook.

See, it used to be that on your birthday, you’d get a couple of cards in the mail, a phone call from your mom and maybe a good friend, and, if you were lucky, perhaps a free shot or two at the bar from some random, who deduced it was your birthday after you climbed on the bar and yelled “It’s my birthday, bitches!!!”

But now, everyone knows it’s your birthday. Facebook announces right there on your profile whose birthday it is that day, basically passive-aggressively telling you “don’t be a schmuck…wish this kid a happy birthday, huh?”

On one hand, this is great. Nothing makes you feel quite as special on your special day as having 1,034 of your closest virtual friends wishing you a happy birthday. This is especially true when you’re spending your birthday in a new city where you’ve only made a handful of real-life friends so far, like me.

But my problem is that I don’t know what is proper Facebook birthday etiquette. Do I have to respond to each post individually? Or can I just make a blanket “thanks, everyone” post? And if so, how many exclamation points after “everyone” do I use?

But if I do that and someone wrote something really funny, like, “in honor of your birthday, I’m going to bong a Natty Light”, is it ok to “Like” that post, or do I have to like all the posts then?

And what about the posts that go beyond the standard “happy birthday” message and include a follow up message? Or even a question, like “Happy birthday! Crows feet really suck, huh?” Is it rude not to write back?

Is a free e-card on the same level as an electronic gift card to Starbucks? And where do someecards fit in? What about the guy who made a hilarious JibJab video featuring me? Do I need to reciprocate? Not to mention, for everyone who wrote on my page, am I expected to write on their page for their birthday? What if I don’t know them? Or did know them at one point but totally forget who they are now? What about the ones that sent me an actual message, instead of a wall post? Does that deserve a response?

I JUST DON’T KNOW. AHHHHH!!!

Where’s Emily Facebook Post when you need her?

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