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!!!