Friday, December 29, 2006

The Funke Family Tour, Christmas 2006

It begins in Penn Station New York...

I'm delayed for two hours because Amtrak has to change a car
that may or may not have gone on fire.

I find this out through the game telephone.

A woman in a red suit comes over.
She speaks to three perspective passengers about the situation,
and then they tell a friend, and then they tell a stranger in line,
and somehow we are hearded over to gate ten being told to go back to gate 14
and wait two minutes or
two hours.

I arrive in Richmond Virgina, three and a half hours late.

In Richmond though, waiting for me, is my very own brother in law,
Greg
standing there in a floppy fishing cap with McDonalds for me.

We drive to lovely Lake Monticello.
My sister,
Jen
Is holding her newly-born daughter who is nodding off in her tired mother's arms.
My nephew is sleeping soundly.
He wakes me up the next morning jumping on my deflating air matress.

my five year old nephew:
Aunt Sue! Aunt Sue! Hey Aunt Sue! It's almost Christmas. You should wake up. Grandma is up. Why are ya still sleepin Aunt Sue? Aunt Sue get up. Can you please come down and play trains with me?
Did you know that Santa's coming?

Spending Christmas with a five year old is magical.

My sister and I find ourselves unable to sleep we're so excited(and hopped up on sugar from baked goods we seem to constantly produce together) .

There were tons of presents, lots of fun stories from my sister's in-laws,
and amazing food.

I'm beyond content.

Then I'm back to Amtrak.

This time the train runs on schedule and I'm back at Penn in only 7 hours.

I get off the train lugging a 45 lbs. suitcase, a tote bag full of presents, and my purse literally bursting with things I'd tried to squeeze in.

And I'm lugging it all to the LIRR platforms to get on another train.

I take the train to Jamaica
(ahh, I briefly am back in Queens)
then I take the train to Wantagh.

At my mom's place my brother, Mike, is there with his wife and two kids.
Everyone's in this suspended happy sleepy state.
We eat pizza, talk, open some more presents.
I then show them my power point presentation of my new apartment.

(I was on a train for hours people, I needed something to do)

In my power point presentation I have a picture of my new Buddah statue.

My Born Again Christian Mother:
"Who's Buddhist?"
Me, deer in head-lights:
"...um Melissa, and Tom, and um, well, me."

..and she flicks me. Straight up brief stricking finger flick.

My brother, Mike, isn't focused on Buddah, he's fixated on Tom.

Mike:
"YOU'RE LIVING WITH A GUY?!?!"

My mother is surprisingly calm and completely ok with this:
"It's like Three's Company."

Innocent Me:
"He's got a girlfriend."

Mike, clearly still shocked and a tad perterbed about me being allowed to live with a guy:
"He's not gay, he's not even pretending to be gay like they did on that show. It's different."

My mommy who has my back:
"Oh get over it."

Mike and I got some tv watching time in. This is how Mike and I communicate, through programming we mutually like and board games.
I thoroughly enjoy my relationship with my brother.
I flip TV channels like it's porn because I haven't had cable for a month now

House, M.D. flips up.
We love this show!
It's about a married couple that ends up being brother and sister. Ew.
My brother asks for the basket ball score*
He then he goes up to wake up his wife who fell asleep with the kids and bring her to bed.

The next day is clearance in the Romano** garage.
We work together to pull out tons of furniture and load up my brother's mini van,
which, as Mike says:
Is like a freakin' clown car, we can get this all in.

And we did, in under an hour and with minimal snapping.
See, Funke's are highly productive people, but don't get in the way of the production plan.

So, on December 27th I was dropped back at my apartment
without having to step back onto a train
and with nice furniture
thanks to the help of the Funke/Romano family.

And then I caught up with my roomates.
That realized that when I spend a lot of time with children under the age of ten
I act a lot like them.

"Hey, Hey Tom, hey Melissa, guess what we did. Guess, guess, just guess...I'll tell you."




*I know nothing of this match because I haven't seen Sports Center or PTI or regular games in weeks.

**My mother is remarried, this is my step father's last name.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Must See TV...

I haven't watched television, live television,
in my home,
for three weeks now.

Hi, I'm Sue Funke, and I'm addicted to television.

I've gone three weeks without it,
and I'm not ok.

TV is
my wooby
my relaxation
my hobby
my passion
my life

Seriously people,
tell me about it.

Have there been any new shows on lately?

How are the new episodes of Law & Order -
is Vincent D'Onofrio still doing them?
Mr. Big doesn't belong on Criminal Intent with Tony Sopranos old girl friend.
It's just wrong.

Oh! But watching it would be so right!!

How did Top Chef end?
Wait don't tell me,
when I have TV again
just let me stay on the couch and watch the entire marathon.

I don't have TV because Time Warner can't figure out how to install my cable.
I'd say more but I'm afraid if I slander them
they will never ever come.

And i NEED them to come.

My friend bemoaned to me about only having 3 channels the other day.
She doesn't realize how lucky she is!

My other pal told me that it took her months to get cable installed.
And she was ok with that.
Her and her books, pssh!

I'm leaving soon to go to Virginia to spend time with my sister,
but I have to admit I look forward to the quality time I'll spend with her TV.

Oh! Cable come back to me!!!

This blog could've also been tittled:
Seriously, The Television Addiction Isn't a Joke Anymore it's 5 AM and I'm fiending.
I Even Miss Informercials
I Missed the Norelco Santa This Christmas :(

Thursday, December 21, 2006

December

It's very final
And everyone is nuts

We're all racing to the store
rushing the holiday spirit
tired of frosty

There's something a little off
because it's been a long year
and you're realizing

that it's almost over...

But there's so much left to do before New Year's-

Don't make me even think About
NEW YEARS!
I have to get through this week!!

This celebratory week
it makes me weak

It's kinda funny
that there's a big fuss about a December birthday
A new at the end

Did you know that in the beginning of December it's still fall?

Did you know that in December the winter solstice occurs?

It's a subtle difference in the setting of the sun
but maybe it's so quick
that we rush

and the holidays are upon us again!
and there's too much to do,
we've got to get it all in!

It doesn't matter
take your time

you've got 12 more months
'till you meet again.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

I HATE Heroin

There I said it.
I hate heroin.

Why would I want to say this here and now?
I watched the Mitch Hedberg DVD Mitch All Together this evening.

He's not the only person who I know
who has lost a life*
from this stupid, awful drug.

You know what you should try?
Spinning around in circles.

-

Seriously you will get so f'in disoriented,
and possibly giggle
and fall down.

That's right kids,
Spins:
Look like a dope, don't take it.

This blog could also be called,
Why I Don't Write Public Service Announcements



*meant literally and figuratively

...oh and I don't mean I knew Mitch like we were buddies. He's really just someone I know of, a celebrity if you will. But, Mitch is the best kind of celebrity in my book, because he's the kind that's well known because he was a nice person to know. He made the audience feel like they were all his friends.
So yeah, I feel like I knew him.


I hate heroin.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Home at the new apartment

Today marks he first twenty four hours in my new apartment.

After all the rushing, all the purchasing, all the wheezing allergy attacks*,
I'm at home.

I'm sitting at a window seat, looking out at the Christmas lights.

My three new roommates are making themselves at home as I write this.

Tom's hanging up curtins.

Melissa's trying to organize her room.

Damian, the cat, is trying his best to get in Melissa's way.

The move went really smooth,
until I sat down to relax,
and accidently dunked my cell phone in water.

I never liked that phone anyway.

*I'm allergic to dust and my old apartment wasn't exactly dust free, as we moved everything out I sucked all of it into my lungs. Good thing I quit smoking, I could only imagine how much worse the coughing would've been.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Buddah Mama Funke

It's a nick name.

I have a lot of them.

Mama Funke is used widely though because of a crazy maternal instinct I tend to take on with friends.

Buddah, because I'm giving advice, and probably because of my belly too.

I just wanted everyone to know that us Funke Mama's are hot stuff.


Now, I must resume packing up the messy apartment.
I move tomorrow. Madness.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

12/5 at 25

I was a fortunate child.
When I was little I had amazing birthdays.
Mostly because I have a wonderful mother who worked really hard at making them fun.

There were pottery painting parties.
A gymnastics birthday party.
A video game/arcade party.

Fun-fetti cupcakes cones
.
Garfield cakes.
Carvel ice cream cakes --with chocolate crunches.

Barbies, American Girl Dolls, books, movies, tapes, cds, cd players, watches,
brothers picking on me a lot less, and a big family dinner:
Tangible gifts of love from my parents who would ask,
"Did you have a good birthday? Which birthday was your favorite so far?
Which age are you most looking forward to?"

Sweet 16,
not so much.

A family member (whose relation to me will not be named to protect the mentally void)
says to me "happy birthday" as my father's casket is lowered into the ground.
Cue: Bad Birthdays.

This year, I just wanted it to be a day, give up on it being special.
But, a birthday miracle happened.
The usual shitty things occured,
but they have been beaten into tiny quivering wussy poo
... compared to the mighty strength of goodness this birthday.

None of it tangible.
No crazy cake.
I'm holding my "birthday party" at the Laugh Lounge 151 Essex St. Friday night at 7pm (plug, plug, plug)
...ok you got me that's kinda like workin' it, but whatever I LOVE this shhtuff*.

Gifts I got so far: new apartment (i got it for myself!), spot opening for Kevin Hart
(thanks to Erica Watson and her buddy Jackson),
calls and messages from a bunch of awesome friends.
: Donuts, lunch, extended awesomeness from the already awesome co-workers
: Really nice messages from family and friends

So, is the curse of the bad birthday over?

I think it's better than that.
I think I've just come to realize what a good birthday should be.

*I'm trying to curse less. I curse a lot. I love to curse. It's not a good love.
I caught myself there. I will now be saying: beans soup and nuts! sugar foot!
hells bells! cheeseandrice! for cripes sake! fargin' shoot! shhhtuff, muffer fuffer,
and the always fun cuuuurrrses! with my fist waving.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

48 more hours of 24

Ahh birthdays.
Adding a one to your age.
Celebrating making it through another year.
Another reason to drink excessively for the party crew.

Two more days and I'll be 25.

"A quarter of a century is a great achievement," my father would've said.

There's no party that's been planned, I'm just gonna get older this year.

I did have a lovely dinner with my mom though.
There was less nagging single talk.
I think she's finally gotten the point that I'm happier this way.
I also shared tales of how awkward I can be around the boys I like,
and how I'm often hit-on by losers.
So, instead of being asked why I don't have anyone,
she was happy to hear that I'm holding out for someone that's worth the time it takes to put into a relationship.

As for celebrations of the year growth,
I'm be performing stand up at the Laugh Lounge on December 8th on the 7pm new talent show and after the show I'm gonna go out for some drinks with friends who come out for the showcase kinda of as a mini bday thing, but I wouldn't exactly call it a party.

I'm playing it mellow this year, hopefully start a new tradition.

Anything is better than previous years.



So for now, I'm your whacky 24 year old blogger.

Two days though, I'm gonna be your wiser 25 year old blogger.
riiiight...

Monday, November 27, 2006

Sick, Holidays, TV

I have not blogged in a while, my apologies.
Here are my reasons:

I'm sick - sinus infection, it's not pretty, ask me why.
I was home for the holidays - not the one I grew up in, the one my brother and his wife have made in Pennsylvania. It was awesome. Everything I could've asked for from a holiday*.
I love TV more than you - seriously, I've watched so much TV and I love it. There are some awesome shows on, and some awesomely bad on.

Awesome shows(in no particular order):

Project Runway (now I have a very strong opinion on fashion, I had no clue without Heidi Klum)
Six Feet Under (Season one is on Bravo, it's horribley dubbed for cursing and sex, but it makes me giggle when they replace curse words in really lame ways)
Heros (I know what it means when they say "Save the Cheerleader, Save the World - you should too)
Studio 60 (I love Aaron Sorkin's TV writing)
Scrubs (hilarious)

Awesomely bad:

Dukes of Hazzard
A-Team
America's Next Top Model
Top Chef
No explanations for the bad stuff, I would blame the cold,
but I can't really.
I can blame it for that Three's Company Dream I had this morning.
It's just delusional of me to dream I'm Cindy, when I'm totally more Joyce DeWittish.

*What made a great holiday:
My nieces and nephews- my siblings have great offspring, they're a lot of fun.
My siblings - Jen and Mike were present this year, they're hilarious but Matt was missed
The in-laws - when you're not married but you have in-laws via your siblings marriage, these people are really cool and fun honorary family members.
Food - My sister-in-law cooked a meal that was the most amazing home cooked thing ever. I found a new love for home cookin'. I want to buy her more cook books and move in because she not only enjoys cooking but she'll also serve me and make fun of my brother while doing so. Wonderful.
Cigar, scotch, front pourch, dog - This has become an upmost staple of my holiday/vacation time. I got to enjoy a nice portifino with my brother and my brother in law.
My mother having a memeroable moment that leads to my miserable neurosis - "I'm only getting Susan a birthday gift this year because she's still single."

Ahh can't wait for Christmas!!

Saturday, November 18, 2006

There's a certain place in hell...

I think a lot about hell.

There was a year long period where I was told I was going to hell,
repetitively.

It happens when you're not the religious type,
and you are related to/living with born again Christians.

I found some comfort in the retort, "At least I'll be amongst friends".

Like another wise Long Islander once sang,
"I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with saints,
the sinners are much more fun..."

But an article my sister sent me made me think different,
and laugh a lot on the subway.

Maybe I won't get to be with my friends in hell.
Maybe there are different sections
and we're split up based on severity.

I'm hoping my section will be with the people
who used the lord's name in vain a million and six times,
or at least get that joke.

I know hell isn't supposed to be fun and games.
It's torture and brimstone.

But some people are into that, right?
So, part of me thinks hell is a place where it's all the things you hate.
Like mine would be radio DJ's doing banter all day long while I watched local news reports.

I get a pains just thinking about it.

But what has me thinking about hell these days?

OJ Simpson and his interview
about if he had killed his wife and her lover, how he did it.

I really hope we don't share the same space in hell.
Because, by my accounts he should be getting the worse torture hell has to offer.

And whoever buys his book has another section of hell
where they have to listen to Bill O'Reilly read his sex book*.

Oh, and his publisher.
This marketing whiz needs to be brought down.

Seriously, someone stop them, please.

They're ruining hell for the rest of us.


*They have to listen to it, not read it. See, they played an excerpt of O'Reilly himself reading it aloud for the book-on-tape version once on Al Franken's radio show. I had to turn it off immediately, pull over to the side of the road, and dry heave. I WISH I was kidding.

B.A.P.S

Now, I finally understand the fuss about Halle Berry.

Dayum she's one hot blonde.

This blog brought to you care of FX via HBO running Joe Versus the Volcano and Soapdish AGAIN on a Saturday morning.

Am I paying an extra $8 a month for that?
Apparently.


Seriously, because of HBO's shotty programing, and my hangover, I had to watch Dharma & Greg.

Shame on you expensive cable.


You should know your audience:

People who wake up rediculously early on a Saturday mornings to sit mindless in front of a tv for hours.

Don't you judge me book readers.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Free Coffee from McDonalds

Yes, I am a sucker to advertising*.

I wanted to ba-dup-bup-ba-baaa love it.
(especially if it was free)

So, I walked out of the Union Square subway station and into my participating fast food chain,
and I got a free coffee - I also bought a breakfast sandwich while I was there.

As I walked out I realized that the tiny bagel with fake bacon, fake egg, and I can't believe it's cheese on it,
was the same price as a real bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel and a coffee at any New York Deli.

I had a bitter taste before the coffee hit my taste buds.

As I did my super model strut up 17th Street I had to admit,
I made that coffee look good.

A man walking in the opposite direction was smiling at me.
I coyly smiled back as I start to take a sip of delcious free coffee...

I then tripped on the sidewalk and the coffee went up my nose.

I don't really remember how good the coffee tasted,
but it smelled great all day long.

*Nov. 5-11th McDonald's was giving out free small coffees.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

"I am so Awkward!!!"

Was I the only one under the impression that
life would be different after high school?
Like you'd go to college, graduate, get a job, and
you'd become -
an adult.

And all the bull shit of high school
all the stupid clicks,
the insecurities,
and most importantly
the awkwardness around the opposite sex,
would disappear.

When in all actuality
my awkwardness has increased
it's an anomaly of inverse relationships that regents' questions are made from.

When I was 15 -21 I wasn't single longer than 2 months.
2 months people!
I'm 24, I haven't had a relationship in 3 years.

And when I was 14 I would've called the people I'm currently interested in:
men
but ten years later, I'm calling them boys.

I did date a marine for 3 days.
He told me he was dying and couldn't get attached to me.
Yeah, ok,
do you see why they're still boys now?

Honestly,
I'm no better.

I've liked people -
I mean "like liked" boys,
(oh, that was really lame to write out)
for years
and never been able to do anything about it.

I just get too nervous.

Or I do act, at a horrible moment, and blow it completely.

I don't think any adult is better though.
I mean, when you are talking to a person you really fancy
don't you get nervous?

Or did you ever feel so comfortable around someone you fancied
that it made you even more nervous?

And what about the whole phone call/email/instant message exchange-
how awkward is that?
You leave a message for someone,
and you're just waiting
checking
holding your breath
thinking the worst
checking again
exhaling defeat
...and it's only been an hour.

When you're in person, it's even worse -

If there's a guy who I think likes me and I don't like him
I can't even look at him, because I'm afraid a smile will set him off.

If there's a guy who I like
I can't even look at him, because I'm afraid a smile will scare him off.

I think the only way you can tell the difference is by the subtle tone of my voice.
(Hear that? listen up boys!)

I might sound paranoid to some people,
but I bet the people who think that are in relationships.

Kids, the moral of this ramble is:

Toughin' up in high school, because the real world is just one giant assembly of awkward teens.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Q & A

Still not smoking?

I haven't even had a puff.
I have second hand smoked.

Leave the vice,
not the friends.

How's work?

busy, good...
awesome that I'm getting the chance to edit.

When's your next show?

New York Comedy Club on Wednesday, November 8, 2006 at 9PM

Comic Strip Live on Friday, November 10, 2006

Luke and Leroy
"Comedy 101" hosted by Erica Watson on Monday, November 20, 2006*

(Don't go to the hyperlinks expecting to see my name,
I'm not famous.)

You hang out with all those boys;
don't they have any friends you can date?


No, Mom...
and please -
don't give me an eHarmony gift certificate for Christmas.







Friday, November 03, 2006

A Lesson in Comic-dy

There are many types of people in this world.*
There are some of us who fancy ourselves as comedians.

What a lot of people don't know is, there are a lot of levels of comics.
To help those of you not on the "scene" understand I have laid them out below, in no particular order:

1.Die Hards - These are the comics that haven't made it, but are going out pretty much 7 days a week to live the dream. They have non-committal day jobs like waiting tables, bar tending, bar backs, or are completely unemployed. Not only are they on stage a ton, but they're constantly writing and talking to other comics.
They can practically taste their big break once a week, and then fall into deep misery over realizing that there's a chance it will never be their time.

2.Old Timers- They've been on the scene forever. They have seen people come and go, and may even know a famous comic who "did their room" a decade or two ago. They probably get paid to host some shows or even have steady gigs around town, but they've never reached the goal, don't expect to but still do it for the love, or because of the fact that they still keep a glimmer of cynical hope alive that they'll break through.

3.Almost Famous - "You may have seen me on {{insert Viacom owned channel here}} for five minutes." This comic has a manager or a steady gig at several clubs. They are going to open mics but there's a definite air of "I won't have to do this much longer" in their gate.

4. Snobs - They've got their toe in the door and they immediately forget how they used to struggle to. They put down the struggling and their open mics. They only go to three clubs, and all the others are the fucking joke. This comic is 8 times out of 10 hilarious on stage, and about a 90% chance of being so self obsessed that you can reach out and feel their insecurity as they drone on about how awesome they are.

5. I think I cans - Maybe their therapist told them to try comedy, maybe they have a friend who finds them funny, but some how this person got the comedy calling - but it was really a wrong number. They find themselves hilarious, and it can be brutal at times to watch, but they are usually "nice people" with "big ideas".

6.Working Class - This type gets up as much as possible, whenever possible, but has either a full time day job that most likely requires a degree or a full time family that makes it pretty impossible to get to a mic most nights. They try their best for their five minutes and pray that people remember them when they come back next week and that maybe by some stroke of luck they'll get to make something of this some day.

I'm number 6.
It's hard to get respect as a 6 in the comedy world.
To 1-4 it's a little insulting, like you're making their career a hobby.
No one really cares what 5 thinks.

Do I have other comics respect?
I'd like to think so, but a lot of times I feel like they look at me like:
"Oh you and your attempts, go back to work corporate girl."


My hope is as a 6 is that I'll be able to take my comedy to TV and write a sitcom, probably not based on me, most likely not showing my face on TV.
I've really just always wanted my name in the credits.

My reality is it is going to take time.
So, my hope is editor with a side struggle of comedian today -
head writer on a great show in ten years or less.

If I could do stand up everyday, would I?
I don't know.

I guess that's why I'm a number 6.


*This is contradictory to many statements I've made in the past, including a credos such as: "There are only two types of people in this world, those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don't"
"There are only two types of people in this world, those who like Opie and Anthony and those who listen to Stern, all others are just conservative automatons."

I apologize for my blatant hypocrisy.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

It's less than a month away now.

I dread/look forward to
my birthday like a kid Crazy for Christmas,
in a movie about Santa visiting the kid,
but Santa turns out to be pure EVIL.

Now, I know that I shouldn't dwell on it.

But -
my birthday has become a year over year pursuit for fun
in a
twisted game of worst day ever.

My friends will point out to times that I was happy
and how they helped me have fun on my birthday- it's true, they have photo proof.

But no one takes a picture of the sad girl on her birthday,
although it could be a poetic photo in black and white-
or really funny if video taped.

I could run down the list; I'll spare you all the times bad things happened on my birthday.
There've been 24 of them so far
and do you really wanna know?...*
Because
nothing on the list really beats burying your father on your birthday.

If my mother reads that line she will shout aloud,
"Susan, I asked if it was ok! You know we had no choice!
You swore you wouldn't complain about this in public..."
..even if I wasn't in the same room with her.

The truth is I was totally fine with it,
I mean as fine as you are with your Dad being dead.

It was just made worse
when my uncle wished me a happy birthday
at my father's grave site.

Anyway...
my birthday is coming.
I'm seeing it on calendars.
It's around due dates.
There are people making plans for things.

I don't have any.
I don't want any -
I know I'll end up making them though.
And I'll hope sooo much that it's good.

It will be a pretty cool one, 1/4 century.

So, should I keep hope alive?
Or will I do what I always wished I've done after my bad birthdays and
sit alone in my apartment watching tv,
doing whatever the heck I wanted
as long as it didn't involve social interaction?

Well, we have a month to find out.

Stay Tuned...


*...about how when I was four my "friend" got to eat the pink rose off my cake and I wasn't allowed to cry about it because she'd throw a fit?
...the sleepover that I said "Maxine" had puppy dog eyes and "Sarah" told her that I called her a bitch.
...overpaid a cabby with my birthday money, aka the only money I'd have for two weeks.
...getting a speeding ticket, getting food poisoning, and finding out my boyfriend had been cheating on me - all in one birthday!

Sunday, October 29, 2006

There's always football

The Mets lost.
I haven't gotten to an open mic because work has been really busy.

When I came back to town last week I remembered immediately why I hate midtown:
in penn station burgers cost $16, beer is $7,
you can't get a view of the game
- and if you try to there are men in suits acting like you're the cutest little thing for trying to watch the ball game.

I caught a cab and went back to the messy abode.

Seeing family was good, although the line of the week was,
"Why haven't you met anybody?"

I don't know.


I once again feel horrifically single and I'm too messy to even own a cat.

I thought I'd possibly rectify my funk by going out on the town.
Saturday was full of Halloween parties - a chance to meet new people, maybe even a 'new man'.

Instead, I was emptying myself with a frightening stomach virus and a high fever.
24 hours of fun!


Well, at least there's always football.

I'm going to go sit on a faux leather couch,
eat some cheetos and watch the Giants
with my males friends
who are just friends,
and hopefully their cheers will drown out my mother's voice saying,
"Well, we just want you to be happy".


I was,
until I realized that it's been 3 years since I've been in a relationship,
a year since I even went on "a date",
and now I feel very alone.

Thanks.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Virginia Vacation, day 4

No palm trees.
No ocean.
It's not that much warmer here.

But there's ...
No meetings.
No deadlines.
No stress.

My job is coloring with my nephew while counting to twenty.
My job is rocking my tiny niece while singing sweet songs.

I sit and exchange stories with my sister.
I drink beer and joke around with my brother in law.

I'm in the middle of no where Virginia.
I went apple picking and made apple crisp from scratch.

I've been going to bed early and sleeping late and making my own food.

There's nothing on the agenda-
except tomorrow I'm going to a blues festival at a vineyard.

This is an excellent break from my life.

The only thing I miss is an open mic.

Now, back to my break.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Quickie

Me - Oh my God, that man thought I was a crack head.
I am that stressed out and bad of dresser that I look like a crack head?!
I was at one time a beautiful 24 year old girl, now I'm a freakin' crack head look alike.

Urban - First of all it was insinuated that both of us look like crack heads. We can't look like crack heads, crack heads don't have weightloss issues.

SF in SF

I went to San Francisco last week and since then I’ve been in a shit fog.

I don’t know if it’s the jet lag or the fact that the stress from work has been overwhelming but I’m not sleeping anymore and I miss everyone.

I’m rarely emailing friends and family, and if I am it’s short and curt.

Why have I been so nuts?

Because I’m trying to keep up with everything.

There was a motto my father had “don’t fall behind”.

It’s a diligent motto that makes a 12 year old girl feel as if she must sprint through life to make sure to win a race that no one else is even running in.

And it makes a 24 year old woman have moments where she realizes “hey, I haven’t breathed out in a half hour.”

But enough about my madness, San Francisco was quite awesome.
I was there for business, I worked a little too much there, but I’m not really a big fan of San Fran.

I like the beauty of it, and the mellow nature. If I was going to give up my imaginary race I’d totally go there to grow my hair long and take back up the threaded bracelet business I started when I was 8.

I finally got to visit Haight/Ashbury visit to SF, it was the one touristy thing I did.
I have read a lot about the area due to my random fascination with the beat poet section of Barnes and Nobels and was looking forward to some rebellious mystique. What I found was a place that smelled like my college dorm room (pot and incense) with way crazier hippy kids (bright florescent hair is REALLY hip with these kids – so are buttons, which I can only imagine are some sort of protective shield for when the zombies come for them during the heroine hallucinations)

The most disappointing part, there’s a Gap up there.
A Gap.
Ahh yes, that’s where Kerouac and Kesey sat and wrote about his ambivalence of the man and their fondness of simple knit sweaters and pleated khakis.

Best part of being in SF was being with my coworkers, who are always hilarious and fun to be around. There were many hilarious moments there
-I think I’ll keep to myself though,
so that they don’t divulge my crazy moments ;p

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

The Mets Fan "We"

That's right Mets fans,
we won the division.

Yes, it was us.

Why do I insist on using the plural, including myself and other fans who didn't technically play the game?
Because real Mets fans have been watching, waiting, cheering, crossing our fingers, covering our eyes, cowering in shame for way longer than the people on the team.

We've trusted and screamed for this longer, and we love the team for doing it.

But we wouldn't be true Mets fans, without knowing that-
if it weren't for the love of the sport
and going to shea
with that 'ya gotta believe' attitude
and cheering on with Mr. Met himself for the team,
that you were a real part of that win*.

It's our team, it's our time.
(at least those were what all the posters around my apartment read)

I'm going to game 1 of the NLCS (thanks Brenda!!)

Then on Thursday, October 12, 2006 everyone should head down
to Bar None to see me do "Grandma's Candy Box",
a FREE comedy show!
It starts at 9:30 on Thursday.
You should go, unless your watching the game.**

*I was at that game.

**If this is the case, then you should text me the score.

Monday, October 02, 2006

I'm not here...

I'm exhausted and working too hard.

My step father muses to me, "I want to open a company, it doesn't matter what we do, but I want to just hire you and your Mom. I'd have a number one company in a month and I'd only have to pay for two employee."

We're busy little worker bees.

Sometimes, I think I was raised Puritan instead of Roman Catholic because of the crazy strong work ethic my family shares.

Maybe being raised by two Republicans was enough.

Either way, I've spent way too much energy writing this, I need to put it back towards the people who pay my bills (oh, and I do love my job and all that happy hoo-ey, it's just the busy time of year, soon enough I'll be telling tales of wilder times...)

P.S. - I'm over cigarettes, you know how I know?
I got the rocks to tell Irene (my mommy) I quit
- which meant telling her I started again,
which meant sitting through the lecture and saying at the end of it,
"yeah, but I'm over it. I promise."
To promise to Mama Funke you better mean it because,
well you just don't mess with Mama Funke.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Best Random TV Show

On Friday night* I couldn't sleep (so glad I quit smoking!)

I turned on the TV and flipped on That 70's Show on Fox, but it wasn't That 70's Show, it was
TALKSHOW with Spike Feresten.

And it was hilarious.

For any long time Conan O'Brien fans, this show will remind you of the early seasons when there was no budget, no viewers, and an anything goes format.

Spike Feresten is a funny dork with a really great style, and who apparently has been in the business writing funny things for a long time.

Check out this show, Saturdays at midnight. I mean it's not like you're gonna watch SNL.

*I did go out on Friday, to the Met game, they lost. I went home and went to bed early because in NYC Friday isn't the hot wild night. It's Monday. We are trend setters. Our trends rarely make sense.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

One full crazy week smoke free

I made it 7 days.

I got Nicorette.

And I am flippin' INSANE.

Things people won't tell you about quitting but I now know:

  1. Nicorette will get you high. You will get this five minute surge of euphoria, soon to be followed with a peppery burning and feeling like you are about to spew.
  2. Quitting smoking will make your sleep and sleep patterns messed up. I'll be fast asleep dreaming of some hot and steamy love affair (erotic dreams are a side effect, don't judge me.) and then I wake up hanging off the bed in some crazy position wondering if I really did just go do all that I dreamed of... I might have, sleep is so commatose when it hits I have no idea what happens.
  3. I'm delicate like a flower. I have become such a sensitive wussy. If the homeless dude on the street asks everyone else for change but me, I start thinking I'm not good enough.
  4. My overall behavior might be crazy on a much higher level. I am lucky enough to have awesome co-workers. There are four of them that I used to smoke cigarettes with everyday. The smoking crew is known for sitting outside with cups of coffee and bitter/stand off behavoir - we are way to cool for all you pink lungs. Now, I am still allowed to go out and chill with them, but I'm scaring them with how antsy and neurotic I'm acting. If I keep this up, none of them will ever want to quit.
  5. Without a cigarette to plug my mouth, I will say exactly what's on my mind. Oh the inappropriate things I say. It just floods out. Instead of grey puffs of smoke I now just let out big gasps of the madness that are on my mind. Wanna know how I really feel about you or someone else? Get me during a stressful time of day when I would've been sucking down a Parliment, I will lay it all out for you in colorful words and gestures.

With all this insanity though, I have to admit, I am feeling better.

People say "after a week, you know you've beat the addiction".

No, that's not true. It's after the holiday season.

If I can make it through Ground Hog's Day without a cigarette, I'll really feel like I've made it.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I'm a Quitter

I will never smoke another cigarette again.

My last cigarette was midnight, Friday, September 15, 2006.

Don't congratulate me.

It's disgusting how long I've smoked, and how sick I got from it, and my quitting is something people should be indignant about.

I want your response to be, "it's about time you f-tard.", "Smooth move Einstein, you realized cigarettes are killing you. People have only been telling you that since 1981."

I smoked cigarettes off and on for 12 years... and I don't even come from a trailer trash upbringing. I was up to a pack to a pack-and-a-half a day at times the past couple of months.

I couldn't breath on Friday morning - I realized it was time to stop.

I went to buy nicorette to help me get through my show at the Improv Cafe last night,
so I walked into the Duane Reade, got a bottle of water and walk up to the counter:

"I'd like a pack of nicorette."

"That's sold in the pharmacy. The pharmacy is now closed."

My face reflects my crushed spirit.

"The pharmacy will open at 9am tomorrow."

I'm down right nervous now, scanning the gums along the counter trying to find a substitute.

"I can sell you cigarettes instead," she says with no irony in her voice.

REALLY?!

I bought a pack of trident and used her stupidity as my opening bit.

Thanks Duane Reade, you really know how to help a gal out with her health.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Let's all take a moment to remember 9/13

9/13/01, the day I woke up with a two day hang over, for the very first time.

I was 20 when it all went down on that sunny morning. Barely into year my second year of college and the world seemed to fall apart worse than any drama a dorm could stir up.

I was on Long Island, and there was chaos pretty much everywhere.

It was a really bad day, and there's so much bad about it, why dwell?

But 9/11/2006 was a promising day.
Things were going well. Like really well.
For the first time in what seems like years friends and family, even I was happy and prosperous.

So wasn't it a bitch to turn on my TV and not even be able to get the weather because EVERYONE felt the need to relive the horrific day that was 9/11.

People talking about how the sky was clear and blue and sunny - just like 9/11/01..
COME ON!
Are we in NYC never going to be able to have a beautiful 9/11 again because of that one 9/11?

That's when the terrorists win.

Move on people, live in the Now.

And everyone's excuse: "people from all over the country don't get it but they want to identify".

That's kind of messed up.
It's like having a friend whose significant other died and then go up to that friend every year after the death and talk them through a minute by minute account of their significant other's death.

Is that really going to help everyone understand?

Not really. Instead of taking me through the minutes - minutes before I step on a subway around the same time going into the same city- why not tell me about how our country is working to make this never happen again?

The TV station I'm maddest with was NY1.
We needed you NY1, we needed you to go on.
We needed our traffic on the ones,
our rail and road update,
I mean for the love of all that is holy you didn't even read me the newspaper -
that's like the adult version of a good night story, but it's before work.

You really let me down NY1, I'd "talkback" to you,
if we were talking.
We're so fighting right now.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

"I'm a Pretty Big Deal"

This is my newest catch phrase*,
but it should be my sister's...

because she interviewed one of THE Wiggles.

(interview can be heard here)

Jennifer Zajac, she's a pretty big deal.
(and an awesome big sister)

*let it be noted this is said with a ton of irony and sarcasm normally. I'm still your humble muffin topped Sue.

Funke Fashion Forward

I don't spend a lot of money on clothes.
I'm too busy spending money on food, beer, cable, and comedy.
Ya know, the finer things in life.

But - Fashion has been on my mind lately.
Is it because this really is the best season of Project Runway*?
Or because it's fashion week in NYC?
Those are some of the reasons.

The main reason is because I've been around Brooklyn a lot lately.
In Brooklyn there's a large population of 20-30 year olds known as hipsters.

Now, let me say that I have friends who are hipsters,
so it's ok to make fun of them.

When taken to extreme though, they are downright redonkulous** - some of them are even wearing animal masks now, but most of the hardcore mainstream ones look like vapid emo kids blindly following a trends they try desperately to emulate with the newest "it" kid.

But as a hip 24 year old, some of my clothing choices can be a little
(dare I even admit!?) hipster.

I've got the black converse, the thick rimmed glasses, the concert t-shirts of bands that were only together before I was alive, and the iPod to top off the *gasp* trendy hipster apparel.

The thing is, I'm never really consistent with my fashion enough to really be classified.
One day it's my dirty brown hippie skirt with a cheap polo tee,
the next day it's jeans and a zepplin t-shirt,
then I'll mix it up with a nice skirt and a feminine top,
and to keep people on their toes, I'll wear some rediculous combination of clothing and jewlery.

I like to think that my style hasn't really changed since I was able to pick my own clothes.
In fact, somedays I really look like I'm ready to head to pre-school more than a day job.

And even though I am interested to see what's hip this fall,
there is really no chance that I'm trading in bell bottom jeans for straight-leg-mom-jeans this year.

*I love this show, I'm sorry but I never knew how much I cared about fabric and color before, and I'm ok with admitting I'm pretty ga-ga over it now.

**Thanks to Mad for this fun entry into my vernacular.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

When in NYC do as I'd Like You to

I was in Mid-Town NYC today.

I hate Mid-Town.

When people come to Manhattan, that is where they go, and it's awful.

They say when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
In New York, people really need to learn how to do as the NYers do.

And since I'm such a giver, here you go:


Tips for New York City Tourists:

  • It's great that you came with all your friends and/or family, but single file people, there's a lot of us here and it's a narrow island.
  • Yes, the buildings are very tall, but while you were looking up you either stepped on a foot, or a small dog from one of our poorer citizens who can't afford the couture doggy carrier had to let walk.
  • There are a lot of great big signs! I'll save you time, they're just advertisements, same stuff you see at home on your TV except it is on a big outdoor TV, keep walking.
  • Uh-oh, you're lost, you're turned around, you're not sure where to go. Don't stop in the middle of the sidewalk suddenly, you will cause a pile up. Pull over to the side of the sidewalk and pull out the map.
  • There are tons of landmarks which means it's a photo op time! Look both ways before you take your photo, because if you're doing it in the middle of the sidewalk I'm going to walk through it, and it's not my fault.
  • Got tickets to a Broadway show? Don't crowd the sidewalk in front of the theater, you've got tickets, you'll get your seat, so stand towards the side of the building, people need to walk by on that sidewalk.
Also, make sure you try the pizza and Murray's Bagels, sushi, and thai food while you're here.


New Yorkers, you have any tips I've left out? Please feel free to add in the comments.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Notable Quotes and Stats

It's been a while since a blog.
I've been really busy.
I owe more, but for now, here's a list of great quotes of recent:


"Our marriage works because we've always hated eachother!"
-great quote from the HBO show Lucky Louie - can't life be more like TV?

"Look at you doin' your fancy pants dance."
-at a diner in Astoria

"I'm so glad I got my period, I was so not ready to have Bobby's abortion."
-said that and it stopped a LIRR train.

"Capital punishment should be abolished, we should just give the bad people pink socks."
-my former roommate, Debbie


"Hold on, I need to sit in my dripping shame a little longer"
-sitting with beer in my hair in a space between my chair and the booth that apparently didn't wrap around.

"I'm glad you realize God's plan is for us to marry and procreate."
-response from my step father after a discussion about how, yes, eventually I would like to get married and that I do like/want children- eventually, possibly, maybe...

ok really just to be able to justify eating an entire plate of nachos by myself for the "bun in the oven"

....mmm the smell of buns in the oven.

"Oh my God, we've broken Sue, she's under the desk."
-someone asked me why I didn't just take the time to open the mail (I had two days of work, for the many different roles I play at work, piled up because my Great Aunt died) so yes, I did hide under the desk.
It's really super professional to do. I highly recommend trying it,
it's safe under there.

I'm not really broken, I'm actually quite content.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Forkin' High Dive...

I am not always a fortunate person, I am human,
I will spare you my pitfalls and sorrows.

Right now in my life I am very fortunate,
I have a lot of close friends, and family.

And we're all in the same place ----

We're perched on rows of a forked high dive strip.

some on the short boards.

some on the long planks.

We're perched waiting for our big jump,
competing in the life olympics


We're planning complex maneuvers,
hoping they turn out as beautiful flips,
We're taking chances before we point our toes just right,
chanting prayers with high hopes
that we won't make the quite feesible belly flop.


I work a 9-5 job,
the kind of place where everyone asks,
"how was your weekend?"
clinging to the tales of sunshine freedom
suffucated, not ready to adjust to the florescent grey
office space monday.

And when it was my turn to answer
there was no truth to say.
I smiled and
said "good", "decent", "weird", "crazy", "interesting", "messed up", "fun", "different",
"ok."

Really,
I haven't met yet a word to describe
such a slapdash crescnedo that last those days.

I saw a lot of close friends this past weeked,

There was a lot to take in,
looking at them seeing them perched beside me in life,
we're talking together,
wondering who will be first to plunge in.

I swang on the swings at sunset,
danced and sang on the street,
cried out in frustration,
sadness,
co-misery,
and laughter.

I met people who only existed in stories,
sat on the roof surrounded by trains,
water towers,
stars,
and friends.

There was utter frustration irritated by lack sleep.

I look forward to meeting the word that describes this weekend.

Maybe I'll find out during the attempt at this perfect long jump/rolling dive...

Saturday, August 12, 2006

August 2006 Sue Funke Comedy Shows

Because if I don't write it here, I'll never remember.


Sunday, August 20, 2006
Laugh Strong at Faces and Names
5pm-9pm
$5 dollar donation for the LIVESTONG Cancer research foundation

Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Cheap Laughs for City Harvest
@7pm at the Laugh Lounge
$7 w/ donation of canned food, $10 with no donation

Monday, August 28, 2006
Comedy 101 w/ Erica Watson @ Luke & LeRoy
doors @7pm, show starts 8:30pm
$5 dollars to get in, great drink specials all night

Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Wicked Laughter w/Erica Watsom @ Madame X
doors @ 7pm show starts 8:30pm
$12 dollars to get in *FREE BACARDI DRINKS*


I'll be performing at all of these shows with some of NYC's best comics.

If you've never seen me do stand up, you might be wondering,

what's your schtick?

I talk about being Sue Funke, in my Sue Funke way.

Can you tell me just one joke?

Will you just come to a show and you can see it all there!

But what if I pay $12 bucks and you suck? I'll be embarassed, I'll be out $12 bucks and I'll have to avoid you for a while because it's so hard to tell a friend that they suck.

Well, since you put so much thought into your reasoning, I'll appease.

A(n old) joke, by Sue Funke

I used to eat a lot of Power Bars
I loved those chocolate peanut butter ones,
delicious, nutritious,
then I realized
they look more like the end product than food.

oh, man have I improved since that joke.

don't you want to see how it got better?

Go to a show, support some good causes and Live comedy!!!

**Note: There are some other great Open Mics I go to.**
New York Comics should check these out as well:

Maui Taco
Wednesday night NYC Open Mic
($5 bucks, but there's also awesome drink deals)
this 7:30pm mic is host by Hector Luis
located in midtown, a place I hate.

Comic Strip Live!
Gladys's Room
5:30 - 8pm Tuesday and Friday nights(11 dollars for comics).

New York Comedy Club
Bill Michael's Sunday open mics
7pm (Free) and 9pm(One Drink Minimum)

Alan Schwartz's Monday open mic
5pm sign up, $3 buck charge

Monday, August 07, 2006

Wait, she's not dead already?

It feels like my Great Aunt has been pushing 90 since I was born.
Right now I believe she's 92 years old.

She weighs approximately 75 pounds.

I know, I know, all you anorexic girls are drooling, possibly foaming if there is enough saliva left, over that weight, but when you weigh less than your age it can't be good.

Today at work I took a break and checked my personal e-mail to see if my mom dropped me a line*. When I did I found out that great Aunt Maud is in the hospital, yet again, and had fallen.

Now, I knew she fell because Irene (my mother) told me about it via email on Friday, but I really didn't think much of it; she's old, tiny and more fragile than glass, of course she'll take a spill on a damp floor here and there; I've seen the commercials, I know old people fall and can't get up from time to time.

The thing is, Maud didn't just slip, she had a heart attack. Irene tells me she's got kidney failure, and she's had to sign a do-not-resuscitate form.

Maud lives a pretty solitary life.
Every friend she's had she's isolated by saying what's on her mind.
A classic story is that she told a dear friend of hers,

"You know, you wouldn't be huffing and puffing up those stairs if you lost some weight, you don't really need any ice cream and it would lighten your load."

Ain't she sweet?

She can be, at moments she would actually be friendly. She'll call you if you send her a card thanking you and then tell you how your mother (who works 10 hour days) never visits her.
Her apartment is always fully supplied with chocolates she could never stomach and sucking candy that was older than president Carter and his administration, combined; and she's willing to give you as much as you'd like.

Irene's email is basically saying she's not doing well, and any day could be the day that we lose her.
This woman who's tormented my mother my entire life, who has no children of her own, who lives isolating herself and being quite a curmudgeon to all around her, is someone I'm actually surprised and saddened to see fading away from the earth.

I think it's because we always said that Maud would out-live all of us.

My siblings and I often discussed how we'd all take turns caring for her and putting up with her ill will.

The fact that she truly might be dying is really quite distrubing to me.

I couldn't even clean tonight.
Not like I wanted to,
but the point of the matter is,
I am really sad that she might not make it through this.

Maybe I'll even have to get married,

so someone will make me miserable later in life, instead of Maud.

That's a truly depressing thought.

It shouldn't be though, I mean when I tell old friends recent Maud stories they're always shocked she's still alive and fiesty, everyone always considered her older than God himself and figured by now she'd be in eternal rest.

I guess all things end, hopefully not too soon.

My thoughts are with Maud tonight**.


*My mother doesn't call. She will go weeks, even a month or more without hearing from me and not pick up a phone because she "doesn't want to be a bother". She will occasionally email me once in a while to keep in touch. I look forward to these emails because when my mother writes something that she finds funny she will not write out "he-he" or "haha" and definitely not the LOL, but rather Irene will write out:
(chuckle!)

and it's the most adorable thing, ever.

**No, not Bea Arthur, my great Aunt, pay attention!

Saturday, July 29, 2006

"Let's not forget ourselves good friend, I am flawed if I'm not free"

I'm currently basking in my fortress of solitude with electricity*.

Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not Super(wo)man.

For those not aware:
I live alone, I'm single, it's a pretty decent way to be.

There are definitely times that I would love to have someone. And when I have those times, I think, who would that someone be?

Yeah, there's no one I know who's "that someone".

But, I've got time, so I wonder, what would he be like?

He would be someone who would already have the nachos ready and the TV on when I got home.
He would have a job, an equally crazy schedule, and we would intersect and fall in love and spend time on the couch and at comedy and music shows and Friday movies, he'd call me all the time just to hear my voice...

OK, I'm already feeling suffocated by him though,

and he's not real.

and I'm thinking, I might be better for it.

Being single is pretty awesome.

Here's why:

+ Never have to clean the apartment

+ There's no one to call when I end up staying out later than expected

+ Just got my own bad days, problems, and issues to deal with

+ Only one set of parents**

+ I'm only paying for my food (I never really dated stable, steady job dudes, can you tell?)

I'm not saying I don't get lonely, I'm human.

It's just recently my friend Sam got me into the band Rilo Kiely

They're a great band, very pop, but fun lyrics.

The lyric that rings around my brain all day is the title of this blog post.
It's from a song titled:
"Does He Love You?"

The funny thing is, that strong testament of freedom that I'm so identifying with -
is part of a song in which a woman is singing about how she's longing for a married man
who's wife not only just married him because she thought her time was running out,
but also is the singers friend.

The complete lyric is:

Let's not forget ourselves good friend,
I am flawed I'm not free,
and your husband will never leave you,
he will never leave you for me

So basically, my song of freedom is about being an unrequited adulteress.

Well, she probably doesn't have to clean her apartment either, they could just go to hotels, right?

Eh, I'll stick to my couch, my TV, my side stand up comic ambitions, and my full time job.

Adultery seems too stressful - but it does sound beautiful (sound bite from MP3.com)



*I am one of those poor unfortunate souls that had no power for about a week or so. People often asked me how I survived the black out, well I was only here two days of it, when I was here, I would come home late, take a cold shower and fall asleep with the thought "if you don't fall asleep now, you'll just be making it worse for yourself".

**Ever notice that when you date someone you end up hanging out with their parents more than your own, and you find yourself getting just as annoyed at them as you do your own? Just me?

Friday, July 28, 2006

Thursday Night in NYC with Sue Funke

Last night was the first time I've gone out and about in NYC in a couple of weeks.

I have been busy with stand up and visiting my friend Will in CT.

So, I hit the town with the awesome co-workers first. We went to Art Bar and had some drinks.
How many? I have no idea, all I know is every time I saw the waitress I was ready for another.

While I was there my good buddy Tom text messaged me that he had finally landed and was back in NYC. Since I hadn't seen him in two weeks, I pretty much had to go meet him. So, I parted ways with my friends/co-workers and walked towards the Liar, at least I thought I was heading that way...

Then I fell down, in my demure manner; one foot slides too front, the other too far back and the back knee saved me at the sacrafice of some skin and a bruise.

I was officially a fall down drunk, and I realized, I can't walk to the bar.
Instead I hailed a taxi.

It was good to see Tom, and to be back at the Liar, after a couple more drinks I realized it was time to hail another cab home (pay day is a beautiful thing).

I stood on 6th Ave for 15 minutes waiting for a cab, in the rain, when I finally got one I hear,

"SUE FUNKE!"
It was my wonderful old college suite mate Meryl whom I haven't seen in years.

And all I could say was, "oh, hey" and then I closed the door of the cab and gave directions home.
When you have a cab, never let it go, sorry Meryl.

So when I got my weary body to bed I was able to sleep instantly.

I woke this morning to bright sunshine streaming in and to an alarm clock blinking 12, 12, 12, 12....
I was convinced I slept through Friday.

I jumped out of bed and turned on the radio, Morning Edition was still on, and it wasn't the weekend people - I was ok!

Then I ran to the living room, I was better than ok, it was only 7AM.

Next time, I'll go out on a Friday - but not today.

I need some more rest.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Best Worst Weekend Ever

Life is a rollar coaster.

As a mental therapy veteran there are certain sayings that I keep with me that help, one of them is the rollar coaster analogy. Sometimes your up, sometimes your down, and sometimes it's all so fast you don't know whether to scream, laugh, or cry.

This weekend I went to Philly to see my friend Blythe. She moved there months ago to go to the Physicians Assistant program at Drexel University. It was rough on both of us because we were used to only being a borough away and always being able to go to brunch on the weekends to have long face to face catch up sessions.
We keep in touch, but to see her in person again was awesome. It was great to see how well she has adjusted to the new town and to roll into a club where she knew a ton of cool people.

I drove down there with this guy Matt who lived around the block from me, was friends with all my friends, and we never really hung out before this trip. It was great because we were pretty much instant friends and had an awesome trip down listening to music and talking about life.

On Saturday, after partying until the sun came up I got a call from my best friend, Will. I was happy to hear from him, as always, but his voice was so different, his tone was flat, there was no hearty greeting - something bad happened, something awful, there was just miserable numbness. His father, a man that I hold very close to my heart as a wonderful and inspirational soul, died suddenly while mowing the lawn that afternoon.

And then I too was just numb misery. I called some mutual friends, and then napped until the sun went down.

When I woke up I was somewhat refreshed and ready to keep going through the motions of life - luckily the motions envolved driving with Matt and Blythe to Atlantic City to see Jim Gaffigan.
In the car Blythe revealed that the seats were second row. The experience of seeing one of my favorite living comics make eye contact with me while telling a joke I have heard and repeated a million times was trancendent.

It's been odd to have an all time low and high within hours of each other.

Now that I'm home and alone, I've had a chance to really let it all set in.

William Barrett Senior, aka Billy Bear Barrett was (weird to use past tense) such a perfect example of what a good human being should be. He didn't believe in the unexamined life he was always traveling around, learning different things, trying different experiences and loved to share the stories of his life experiences. He worked hard at his career and loved his children and their friends dearly.
The world has lost a wonderful man, and a great father.

I'm heading down on the rollar coaster now, hopefully crashing onto my bed and getting back on tomorrow, whatever it may bring.

Most likely it will bring the question- "How was your weekend?"
and I think the only answer that sums it all up is: significant.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

We're Just Two Lost Souls Living in a Fish Bowl

Year after year...

Where did you go Syd Barrett?
Our world turns it's lonely ears to you.

In all honesty, I thought Syd Barrett died years ago.
I even said so at work, and my love of classic rock challenged.
Sadly, sometimes love doesn't mean expansive knowledge,

and to be fair he was a bit of a recluse.

I really love Pink Floyd.
Favorite albulm: Dark Side of the Moon
Favorite song: Wish You Were Here


Oh it's all so top 40, isn't it?

But really, it all stems back to my brother Matt, teaching me about music.

I remember, quite vividly, my brother in his room as he opened a CD case as if it was the holy grail of music.
I was sitting, on my hands, on the bottom bunk starring up at him. I had to promise not to breathe too hard just so I would be able to be in the same room as the amazingness that he was holding.

It was the albulm, Wish You Were Here

and I had no idea.

I was just wondering why there was a man on fire and the other man could be so calm about it. The picture frightened and amazed me and I was only able to admire from afar because Matt paid a good deal of money for this Special Edition.

The CD he pulled out was gold. It was a golden CD - supposed to play with quality sound like no other.

Matt said he would play it once, then set it aside- it was valuable.

How is that valuable?

Matt said I would understand soon, and pressed play.

Then we sat around and listened to it.

And I didn't quite get it, I was still young, but I knew it was bitterly beautiful.

Later, I made my brother drive me to Mr. Cheapo's
I bought Dark Side of the Moon for 8 bucks, it was a used CD.

Syd Barrett didn't literally contribute to these albulms, but without his influence it never would've happened.

I'm not trying to act like a huge Syd Barrett fan here,

but I just thought I'd ad my own tribute because his passing definitely made me reflective on who he was, and what he meant -

and I don't think I could put half as well as my friend Urban did.


Shine on you crazy diamonds, shine on.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Everywhere I go, People um, Sometimes Know...

Who I am, Where I come from.

I don't know if anyone else knows that chant, I know it from summer camp*.

I was reminded of it the other day because while I was walking on Essex** the other night and I passed some tourists who were very lost. They looked right at me and said, "oh no don't ask her, she looks French."

WHAT?

There are a lot of things I can be mistaken for, but I don't really get how I could be considered looking French unless they could innately sense my love of cheese.

It is not unusual for people to be unable to guess where I am from.

I think the reason is because I don't have a Long Island accent***. I can partially blame/thank my camp for that, because it exposed me to a lot of New Englanders, who taught me how to draw out my vowels and embrace the word "wicked".

This is much to the perplexing of good pal and diction expert Jennie Smash, who is constently trying to figure out why I sound like I was raised by Midwesterners in a NewEengland household.

It's hard to place my accent because it's never really consistent. I'm kind of a Chameleon talker.

I've got a knack for accents. I'm known to do:

German - I started this one during a history class in 6th grade. I faked it because we had a substitute and we were all bored. I got a kid kicked out of the class because I was so convincing she got mad at him for making fun of the "little German girl".

Midwestern- if you've seen my stand up act, or if you've gone drinkin' with me you'll know that when I get drunk, I get Midwestern.

British- The dude at the Smoke shop on W4 St. is pretty much convinced I'm from a small town right outside of London. Don't ask me why I started this habbit, but I really can't break character now.

Southern- I once did this accent in Atlantic City in order to get drinks faster. Guys love to help out a Southern Bell. I did it so well that when I tried to show one guy how well I can "fake" a NY accent he told me that it was the worst attempt at a New York accent he's ever heard.

And whenever I travel outside of New York people rarely know where to place me:

Chicago - They thought I was from there.

Florida - They thought I was from there.

Virgina - My fast talking gave me away as a New Yorker.

Boston - They thought I was from there.

San Francisco- My fast walking gave me away as a New Yorker.

Atlanta - They didn't know where they were let alone where I was from. I was asked for directions more than anywhere else, and I actually knew how to direct them.

I guess in a way I'm a woman without a true accent, and as a fifth generation New Yorker, I think that sorta makes sense.


*I spent about 5 summers with two week stints at Camp Bernadette in Wolfboro, NH.
The song this blog refers to is one of MANY camp chants:
Everywhere we go, people want to know,
who we are,
where we come from,
so we tell them,
we're from Bernie,
mighty, Mighty Bernie,
and if they can't hear us,
we shout a little louder -
and then it's refrained, louder.

**right by the Laugh Lounge - where I have a benefit show on July 18th, at 7pm, only $7 if you bring a can of food. Tell your friends and family about this show - it's for a good cause!!!

***My Long Island accent will come out when I am tawking to my best friend Vicky, or angry 'bout somethin'. It's very rare, and not very pretty.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Sleeping In

"Last week i had the strangest dream
Where everything was exactly how it seemed"
~Sleeping In by the Postal Service

I am usually up with the sun. I'm the person who will call you at 8AM on a Sunday morning ready to go out adventuring,

you're welcome.

I chalk it up to minor boughts of insomnia and my previous work experience.

I used to work at Starbucks.
I was the morning shift warrior. Waking up at 4:15AM and in by 5AM to make sure the store was open and ready to serve by 6AM. My trick, once i got in I made myself a quadruple iced venti carmel macchiato. I was wired.

These days, I get to sleep in and I can't afford that drink.

Today, I slept until 1pm. It was amazing and so needed.

This past week I wasn't myself. I was in a shit-fog.

I couldn't think straight, I was angry, I would sleep and never seem to wake up.

On Thursday I slept through 3 alarms because I had the oddest dream and just felt like I was still dreaming the whole day. People were talking and I was listening but it was all so surreal.

I'm chalking this all up to sleep deprivation, all that partying made me tired but I wouldn't sleep.

Sleeping in is a beautiful thing, but also kind of odd. I found myself lying in my comfy bed wondering what time it was, what day it was, hoping that I hadn't slept through my weekend show.

Ultimately, it was just a very odd experience to be waking up in the afternoon. When I went to Bagelmania breakfast was long over, so in lieu of a ham egg and cheese I had to go for the ham and cheese sandwich.
Woo! Bizaro.

I highly doubt I'll be sleeping so much anytime soon, but for today, it was quite the interesting change of pace.

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Party Intermission

I'm a big fan of the group "Modest Mouse". I find they have an excellent ability to be a soundtrack to my post-college summers.

I chose the song Polar Opposites
and of course, Summer to sum up the past couple of days.

My republican friend from Iowa, Ian, came to visit me Thursday and Friday.

We only got into one fight, and I think both of us were a little disappointed about that, because he's a hoot to argue with because we often end up having great conversations.

We also went around drinking
a couple of nights, and then laid around during the days outside at the cafes of queens*

You might be wondering, Sue, you live in New York, where did you meet a republican from Iowa that's only 24 years old?

Hofstra University, and I know TWO of them.

And both of them were together with other of my treasured Hofstra friends at the Mineola house* on Friday night.
There was a beer pong tournament,
music,
and "worst of day/best of day" on the roof top***.

On Saturday, we woke up and went to the best diner I've ever been to in my life, the Hudson St. Diner in Mineola, which is on such a tiny side street, that if you find it, and it's open, consider being able to eat there your prize. It's run by one woman, she took our orders and cooked our food. It was delicious and cheap. After eating we all decided that we were going to move next door just so we'd never have to eat anything else.

After diner food, one must move or else arteries will immediately seize. So we went to the park and played frisbee and barefoot soccer like the good little hippie kids we are.

Today, I went to brunch with former roomate now Astori-buddy Debbie & Special Guest Astoria bound Tom, and then to my friend's poetry reading. Tom went with me, on our way over he was telling me how he didn't really like poetry, he likes things more straight forward.

I really didn't know what to say. I mean sure, the tough part of me thinks poetry is for whiney teenagers who think no one else has ever gotten their heart broken, or pretenious snots.

But then the wussy (honest) Creative Writing/English major in me thinks that it is the greatest thing ever.

The poems presented were all wonderful and it was really interesting to hear the back stories that accompanied them. It gave me a renewed appreciation of writing.

I then went to New York Comedy Club and did not appreciate any of my new writing, i.e. stand up. So,

NOW
I am now home
getting ready for tomorrow's work
feeling content at the summer time I've spent
and realizing that's it's still new
It takes me back to youth
lived again as a child
the vacation youth provides
and now that i am back to maturity
and work is soon to be done
I'm glad to lay back and know
That youth doesn't pass
if you allow some parts
never to go

I guess I'll leave the poetry to the experts - or a less sleepy sue.

The party isn't over, it's just pausing for an intermission

~asleep.


*The Mineola House is a block away from Mineola train station on Long Island.
This is where my best friend, Will lives with some other great Hofstra graduates. It's an apartment that is over a beauty parlor, there are three rooms, one bathroom, and a full kitchen on each floor of this two level apartment (the second floor has a large living room that has tons of space for people to sit and talk/fall asleep in as well). It's a place that was made to party in, and often is.


**I really only go to this place.
Because of the wait-staff and the location near the park.

***This is a game where you go around and tell the absolute worst of your day, and best of your day and get to tell your friends to drink for how good or bad the story was. It's a very unorganized drinking game, but very fun on a roof top with great friends on a summer night.

July 2006 Comedy Shows Featuring Sue Funke

I don't own a planner. I only have disorganized moleskine
and Outlook reminders, which I often forget to really look at before I close.

So, I figured for my benefit and possible yours, I'd put the schedule up somewhere that would be useful for everyone.

July 8, 2006 - New York Comedy Club
CALL 212.696.5233 FOR RESERVATIONS
241 E. 24th Street, New York, NY
7pm Show

July 12, 2006 - Madame X
Women of Comedy Show
7pm for DJ, show starts at 8:30pm

July 18, 2006 - Cheap Laughs at the Laugh Lounge
151 Essex St, New York, NY
$7 entry with canned food donation, $10 Without
7pm show time

July 31, 2006 - Luke & LeRoy
$5 Cover
7pm doors (DJ), 8:30 Show Time



Sorry for the boring (and a little repetitive) post.

Good posts to follow soon. I'm so late for brunch....someone get me a planner and an assistant to fill it out!!!

Friday, June 30, 2006

North, South, East, West, in my humble opinion...

The Upper East Side is the closest thing to a ring of hell.

I've been traveling around more so than usual lately.

Two weeks ago I started doing a lot more stand up and I was all over Manhattan, in places I hadn't been to in a while, some even never before. I went to the East Village, the Lower East Side, The Upper West Side, Jersey City, and Atlanta*.

But last night, I went to the Upper East Side. I have to say, hanging out past 90th street is a magical place. Because I really don't believe that naturally humans could become so vapid and lose all sense of humor. Out of the thirty people or so I met last night, let me say this - the Kareoke night at Brother Jimmy's BBQ is a great touristy fun spot, there are some very cool people who hang out there. There are also a lot of rules, no bums outside, girls having fun with their girl friends but hating other girls having fun that aren't their friends.

The most frightening group I met though was at this "Irish Pub**".
There was a guy there who doesn't laugh.
And not in the - oh I don't laugh out loud, but yes, that is amusing.
And I'm also not claiming that I have some master power to make everyone laugh.

But this dude, this dude was beyond serious to almost comatose personality. When I spoke of how I don't normally hang around these parts, he asked me how the girls looked down there and if he would be considered "a gay" if he came down with his friends, who are all male and all good looking. Girls that are just friends with a guy are just "sad".

Hey, did I mention all my friends are guys?

"You did"

Wow. You do have a personality - it's asshole.

This is when I decided to stop drinking, because no amount of alcohol consumption in the world would make the pain of such stupidity go away.


On my way out I saw my friend who lives in the neighborhood, I said good night and went to hail a cab - this is when she decided to teach me how to hail a cab***.

Folks, let me say right here that there are very few things that really fry my fanny.
I just found out last night though that a big fanny fryer is someone trying to teach me something I've done a million times. It's like someone walking into the bathroom while you're brushing your teeth and being like "Oh, you gotta go up and down with the brush, up and down, yeah, ya know what- let me help you with that...."

In summation, I must admit that maybe all the people in the Upper East Side aren't bad, but I think a lot of them need to realize that they aren't great - in the sense that they are just like the people who live all over this overly populated island, and they're not any better just because Daddy got them that super fabulous job and apartment.


*Which by the way the term Hotlanta, isn't because it's so much fun and thrilling no, no - Atlanta is oppressively hot and sunny and seems to be not yet ready to be a city because there's so much construction. I'd recommending waiting about ten years before going to Atlanta and see how they build it up.

**I don't even think the owners had a potato in their life let alone any Irish ancestry.

***I think the best part was telling me I could go to another avenue and asking if I could do it myself - really? really? you can walk up a block and get to another avenue? Can you explain the number system to? It's totally mystifying to me.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

And Now A Word From The "The Sue Funke" Staff

Greetings and salutations readers,

It has come to my attention that a lot of people* read this here blog.

Thank you, I love to write, I majored in Creative Writing in college and had an absolutely amazing time doing it**.

In an effort to make the site more user friendly, there is now an "E-mail Me!" link at the bottom of every post. If you have a response that you'd like to share but don't want to sign up for this fine service that is Blogger, you can now contact me directly. This is thanks all thanks to my good friend/on-again-off-again Director, and Website Extrodinaire, Urban.

In Other News...

I have THREE stand up shows coming up in July.
If you are in the New York City Metro Area, please come out and support live comedy:

~Friday, July 8th at 7pm
New York Comedy Club
241 East 24th Street, b/w 3rd & 2nd Avenue
Please call for reservation, say you're seeing Sue Funke (I need 6 at least people in order to get 6 minutes, please please please make a reservation :) )


~Wednesday, July 12th at 8pm
Wicked Laughter - With DJ for the pre-show and some of the best female comics in NYC
Madame X
$12 at the door


~Monday, July 31 at 7pm doors, 8:30 show time
Luke & LeRoy
$5 cover, apparently there is a drink there known as "Giggle Juice" which is only $4, which sounds as if it has to yield interesting results after consumption... There will also be shot specials after the show, and I don't drink until after shows

--This could be a great night because there's also a DJ, and some of you know how I enjoy to live up to the hip name when it comes to dancing....
This show will definitely help you through a "Case of the Mondays", but might give you a wicked bad day Tuesday.
:)



*When I started this blog, I sent it around to some co-workers, friends, family. It has come to my attention that not only the people I've sent it to that I know read it regularly, but there's another audience who read this, which is cool. So hey other readers! (i'm waving at you)



**I then I started working full time and writing short funny things downthat I said or happened to me, and voila stand up comic.
yadda, yadda, yadda... I stopped writing things of substance. Like, oh say, that feature length script I've written or the plays that held "great potential", yeah...not so much anymore.