All My Friends Are Turtles: The Unpublished Journals of April O’Neil

Okay, that’s it: I am not hanging out with the turtles this week. No matter how lonely I get. I need to spur myself to make some other friends, and yes, to meet some men. I am never going to meet anybody hanging out in the sewer all the time. I’m going to sit here, and I’m going to just be alone. I’m going to feel this loneliness and acknowledge it, and not run away from it. This is your life, April. Own up to it. 

Alright, so I went over to the lair last night. I know I have to stop spending so much time over there. But the turtles are so much fun! We just mess around; it’s so easy to hang out with them. Last night, Michelangelo and Donatello both wanted the last piece of pizza, and they were really starting to fight about it, and then, like, this sai comes flying down in the middle of the last piece, and Raph’s just sitting there – it was really funny. And Splinter was all, ‘kids!’ I love those guys. But seriously. I was there until three in the morning, and I was wrecked today. It’s fine for them. They’re turtles; they never sleep. But my work’s starting to suffer – I’m not getting much reporting done anymore. And too, all these kidnappings are really getting in the way.

Went out with Irma after work today. We went to some bar, and a couple guys bought us a round, but then when we tried to talk to them, they kept making jokes about me. ‘So, you like being kidnapped, huh? You like the freaky stuff? You want to see my turtle?’ That kind of bullshit. These are the only kind of sick jerks I ever meet. When I meet anybody at all, that is. I guess that, as a high-profile news anchor in a major metropolis, people just find me unapproachable. It’s amazing to me that I can be known by everyone, and still so lonely.

Had disturbing dream. All four of them. And the rat. That’s it. I have to start hanging out with people.

Kidnapped again. Got a little nervous this time, waiting for the turtles. The Shredder going through his usual monologue. But, just as Beebop and Rocksteady started closing in ominously, they came in through the windows on their ropes. It’s embarrassing to admit, but no matter how many times it happens, I still get a thrill out of it. It’s so exciting, and at the same time, I feel so safe. Really, what girl doesn’t want to be rescued?

Now, if only some human man would rescue me from hanging out with turtles all the time.

Extremely uncomfortable in the lair tonight, and started to wonder – is this less about me being a woman, and more about them being turtles? Do I assume, just because I’m alone with four turtles in their prime that something will happen to me? Would I be this uncomfortable if I were alone in the sewers with, say, four male colleagues I’m slightly attracted to?

….Actually, probably.

Hung out with Irma and Vernon last night. We went bowling. I should just date Vernon. He’s arrogant and boring, but at least he’s a man. But it’s just…there’s no click, no spark. After a strike, I screamed, ‘Cowabunga!’ And they just stared at me. Was so depressed, I went over to the lair after. Only one up was Raph. We had a long talk about life and expectations, and how no matter how boxed into your own patterns you might feel, each new day is a chance to bust out of them. We talked until the sun came up. Raph is so insightful, and I really admire the way he transcends his own fate. It’s like…he’s decided to see the man-half of himself as a gift, rather than see the turtle-half as a curse. The more I get to know him, the more I respect him.

…Oh, April, what the hell are you thinking?

Sometimes I wonder about Splinter. He’s by himself way too much. And I think he drinks. And last night, I noticed some weird marks on his wrists, which he quickly pulled into his robe when he saw me looking. Tried to mention it to Leonardo, but he snapped at me that turtles respect each other’s privacy. And that of rats.

Seriously, though…what would it even be like? Not that I’m considering it, but with the shell and everything…is this even a possibility? Google really isn’t helping – I tried everything: turtle sex, sex with turtles, women having sex with turtles, sex with an anthropomorphic turtle, turtles + radioactive slime = genitals? I’ve learned some things, but none of them are particularly specific to my situation. God. I’m so annoyed I can’t just ask! You know? Because surely it’s occurred to them, that it might be something that could conceivably come up. Not that I think about it that much, but of course, I’m going to wonder. Who wouldn’t wonder? Which makes me think that it must not be possible, or surely one of them would have made a joke about it, you know, casually, to clue me in that if I was up for it… Everything’s always implied with them about the whole transformation, and the turtle thing. I don’t feel like it’s my place to ask probing questions about their situation at all, much less about something so private. I’m not that kind of reporter.

…Oh, I’m sure it’s not possible. Not that it matters.

…It’s not even possible, April! Stop thinking about it, freak!

Brought Irma over to the lair last night. I was nervous to introduce her to the turtles, but I wanted another woman’s opinion about the whole situation. Well, she had a blast! She freaking loved the turtles! She and the guys all played flip cup and got totally shitfaced. And she and Donatello totally hit it off! He took her number, and she’s all, ‘I really hope he calls! He’s so hot – totally ripped. How come you never introduced me before?’ On and on. Which made me feel like a total ass for being ashamed of my own friends and so worried to introduce them to other people, when clearly, I’m the one with a problem. I over-think things too much. Why can’t I just relax and let go?

At one point last night, Michelangelo said it was so great to have another woman around, one who wasn’t dressed like a giant banana. He was just teasing, and it wasn’t really mean…but it’s jokes like that that make me wonder: is that all I am to them?

Went over to the lair last night. Wore a dress, and got all kinds of teased about it. I could just be imagining it, but I felt like Raph looked…smug. I just felt like wearing something other than my jumpsuit for a change! It has nothing to do with the turtles. I don’t care what they think.

You know what, fuck them. They’re just a bunch of turtles.

Ok, so, I made out with Raph. It was…hot. But I realized…I mean, he’s a turtle. A turtle, you know? And also, even though he doesn’t seem that young, he is a teenager. And I’m a grown woman. With a job and an apartment, and I’m not getting any younger. It just wouldn’t work. And so I told him that our friendship means more to me than anything, and I’d rather do anything than hurt him, and I just thought we should be friends. He said he understood. But he wouldn’t look at me.

I feel awful.

Kidnapped again. Only Leonardo bothered to come save me. I like him least of all of them, too. He’s oh, so put-upon, total martyr. He seemed really annoyed with me the whole time we were running back to the lair, with me slung over his shoulder. I tried to make jokes, and he just rolled his eyes. When we got to the lair, everybody was just laying around. Irma was there with Donatello; they were messing around with some old broken radio. I felt ignored, and just generally awkward and uncomfortable, so I just went home.

Haven’t talked to the turtles in over a week. I miss them, but I’m not going to call. I want to know if they’d even miss me if I didn’t come around. Let them call for a change.

Ran into Splinter today when I was reporting on a burst water main. He was all, ‘hi, stranger, we’ve not seen you in many moons,’ like there was nothing weird. I straight up asked him if everybody was pissed at me, and said I didn’t think I deserved that. He was just like ‘teenagers will be teenagers.’

‘Well, I’m not a teenager,’ I said. ‘I’m an adult, and I’m too old for this bullshit.’

He just nodded sagely; I wanted to punch him. He looked healthier, though. I’m glad he was out getting some sun.

Kidnapped again. They didn’t come. After two days, The Shredder just let me go. “I guess you’re not the turtles’ greatest weakness anymore,” he said. Irma wasn’t at work today.

I guess there’s a window for these things, and then it closes, and that’s that.

Not making a choice is still a choice, April. That’s what you should take away from this.

5 Comments

  1. Quiconque

    I have so many questions!

    Like

  2. Again…each of your posts deserve to be a full-length novel.

    Like

  3. No words. Just laughter. So funny.

    I’m putting you on my blogroll and recommending your blog to all my friends!

    Like

  4. […] All My Friends Are Turtles:  The Unpublished Journals of April O’Neil […]

    Like

  5. Brilliant! (I may have snorted my drink in a rather undignified fashion)

    Like

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