Tag Archives: Aprill Brandon

Mommy and the Purple Crayon

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New year, new blog title

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.

This one is dedicated to all of you

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?


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.


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?)

I’m a better housekeeper than NASA

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!

Woman spontaneously combusting

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:



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 

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

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).

I’m really starting to hate you, Mark Zuckerberg

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?


Where’s Emily Facebook Post when you need her?