Sunday, September 30, 2007

I love the Mets...

But this season was awful.

In a conversation via email with Big Sis Jen Z:

Me: Oh, and let's never speak of the '07 season of the NY Mets again.

Big Sis Jen Z: I'll be sitting Shiva for the Mets this week.

I am very upset about how they blew it. I wonder who's head is gonna roll for this rapid decline to awfulness. Omar? Willie? The entire team for losing it after such a great season?

I think we should talk about this season like Family Guy spoofs Germany's denial of WW2:

Oh the 2007 Mets? Nope, nope, they left to manage a Dairy Queen...

Also, regarding beer halls, Oktober fest was yet another success this year. Much fun and alcohol was had by all.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Pay For Your Funny

I went to a comedy seminar last week at Gotham Comedy Club. I learned that the reason NY comedians aren't getting paid is because people are getting all their laughs for free.

Back in "the day", aka the90's, every brick wall had a mic in front of it. People loved comedy shows and the demand for live comedy was huge. Audiences would not only pay the cover, but a two drink minimum as well to see people they didn't even know tell them jokes.

Now, we've got comics beggin' on the streets, handing out flyers, and pulling in tourists for free. They do this so they can get stage time. So, in a way we'll do anything for stage time, even shoot ourselves in the foot. The free shows is setting people up to expect to not have to pay for comedy. And making it impossible to be a paid comedian.

Sure, this a theory given by a comedy club owner, but it's a pretty good one.

I guess I should make a sign and walk around "Will tell joke for food".
Lure you into paying comedy shows like my one at COMIX FRIDAY OCTOBER 5th
(plug, plug, plug, plug, plug, plug, plug....)

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Teachers, After Dark

I know a great deal of the finest members of society, teachers.

There's a jerk face saying, "Those that cannot do, teach."
I cannot do teaching, and lemme tell ya why-

When I started college I wanted to be a history teacher. History was fun; teaching seemed ideal. I had worked with children my entire life up until then. (Mama Funke was a nursery school teacher, and I started my babysitting career at 11) I could do this.

The night before I was supposed to observe my first class, I had a dream.
I was teaching class, I was middle aged,
with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth,
a hang over,
hating each child with every sniffle, turned page, raised hand.
I was bitter. I was miserable. I was completely worn down,
I was Mrs. Krabappel*
I woke up late for my observation and went in to the career counselor.
I took a test and it told me I should be a writer/lawyer/performer.
I'm glad I'm not a teacher.

But, my friends that are teachers are great. Because they are an insight into how teachers are after school. You always see your teacher so composed, so authoritative, knowledgeable, some are even great intellects.

They are human though, and man can these teachers rock it!

They are also really funny, because just like kids talk about teachers - teachers talk about students.
I once got a text from a friend that was a teacher that read: My kids suck at life today.
I was at a party once where a teacher told me, "These girls dress like they are stripping off their back packs and sauntering over to the corner."
It's funny, cause I probably said the same things about those girls when I was in high school.
Teacher's are just like us!

And that is why, I think this blog that I'm about to share a link to, is pretty hilarious. I have to warn you though, before I give you the link, that this is in a classification of humor that falls into one of my personal favorites,
"So politically incorrect, and honest, and ridiculous, that it is hilarious."
If you think you're into that, click here.

If not, give it up for the teachers!
Because that is one tough job that I know I couldn't handle.
And they don't get paid nearly enough for the hard work they do.

*I totally thought it was spelled Kurbopal, doesn't it sound more like that, or do I have potatoes in my ears?

Monday, September 24, 2007

My Weekend Was Better Than Yours

Unless you slept through it.
I miss the sleep but I totally had fun.

On Friday night I partied in the name of Ann's bday 25th
until 6:30 Saturday morning.
I arrived home so sleep deprived and drunk that I thought that there was a monster in my downstairs hallway.

On Saturday night I went to Stanton Social for Lysandra's bday
Cameron Diaz was there, That's right, I party with celebs.
I actually never got to see her though, because she sat behind me.
I couldn't turn around, that would be obvious.
I got up to go to the bathroom and there was wait staff blocking her.
I stood on my tippy toes while I waited online (for the ONE bathroom in the place) and she lifted her glass - all I could see was blonde and a glass.
I turned to the woman in line and said, "Cameron Diaz is here."
"Everyone is talking about it, I know. She looks great!"
"This is like a bad episode of Seinfeld, she just keeps getting obstructed. I bet it will turn out she's not even here and I'm getting punk'd."
She had no idea I was famous enough to be punk'd or not, but she looked at me for a moment like I was famous.
It was awesome.
I stayed out past 1am.

Then on Sunday I went upstate near Poughkeepsie
to house where there was a giant yard and CHICKENS!
It was really nice to spend time outside, and I even got to see stars (the kind you see in the sky, not the kind that supposedly are sitting right behind you)

It was a wonderfully diverse weekend, but I'm exhausted.
...this post sucks...
unless I put this up:

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Fire Starter

I was inspired from my sister's ordeal with setting an oven on fire to discuss my recent run in with flames.

One night I was tired but having some tummy trouble (shocking I'm sure)
and I went down to make myself a tea. I filled my silver tea pot and placed it on the back burner
behind the George Foreman Grill that sat on our flat, electric stove.
I then remembered that I had forgotten my medicines upstairs (I live in a duplex apartment).
I bounded up the stairs and searched through some bags, pulled out the items I needed and descended back into the kitchen...
to see the Foreman Grill now engulfed in flames.
I scream to roommate Tom, but he's got the AC on and the TV cranked and can't hear the profanity as I turn the oven off and run to the sink that is next to the stove, but full of dirty dishes, and grab the only thing I can fill with water that is closest to me,
a very tiny tea cup.

I keep filling the wee cup with water and throwing it on the ghastly plastic burning flames.
I finally get the fire out, and then the smoke alarm goes off.
But the smoke alarm that we have doesn't just have those high pitch screetches,
it also provides a calm woman's voice that says,
"Fire. Fire. There is a Fire."
Now that the fire is out and the place is pretty smokey, because there are no windows in our basement, I am trying to cover up the fire.
I run over to the smoke detector with an oven mitt and jump up and down in front of it.
"Shhhhhh! Stop going off! It's out!! Stooooopppp!"
And of course, I'm crying because I'm tired, my tummy hurts, and I just set roommate Tom's newly acquired and strongly beloved Foreman grill on fire.

Tom finally heard the commotion and comes down stairs to find my hopping, tear eyed, self in a very nasty smelling unventilated room and does what any of you would've done (that are really my friend at least)
He laughed at me, then told me to upstairs before I passed out from inhaling fumes.

I ended up sleeping upstairs for a couple of nights after that because it took a while for the smell to dissipate.
We now have a new Foreman Grill and a very strict rule,
"Cook on the Foreman Grill, do not cook the Foreman Grill."

Friday, September 21, 2007

Friday, October 5th @ Comix -UPDATE

I'm doing a show at Comix on October 5th
and if I am deemed the funniest person of the night
I will get a chance to perform AT THE HBO COMEDY FESTIVAL.

Please come out and support me.
Bring your friends,
your friends' friends,
anyone that you know that is loud and likes Funke.

You can even lie and tell them that it's a funk music show,
and I'll buy them a Parliament Funkadelic album if they didn't like the Comix show,
but they have to vote for me.

Not like you'd lie for me,
but you'd be a lot cooler if you did.

Call 212-524-2500 for reservations.
Check out more comedy dates and a repost of this info on my comedy site.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

All's Well on the Astoria Front

Last night Roommate Tom and I met at the bar across the street.

I walked in and looked up at him and said, "This is stupid the us not talking thing, let's just let it go".
Tom replied, "It was a giant miscommunication."

I nodded, ordered a Blue Moon and then asked him, "You wouldn't ever really leave me out in a stairwell on purpose, would you?"

"No. Never."

"Good. I wouldn't do that to you either."

And then we drank beer and tried not to watch the Mets lose.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

It's Not Duane Reade's Fault!

Oy, friends, fans, family -
I am smoking again.
I haven't opened the last pack I bought - about a year ago.
I haven't bought a pack - yet.

But I'm smoking several cigarettes a day.

It's so not good.

Trust me people, no one is more disappointed than me.

"Why do you do it then!?!" you ask.

Because, see when there were times when no one was there for me -
my p-funk's were there for me.

And with things going south lately, I just want that nicotine choke hold.

Don't judge me people. I can't eat pizza!

Yeah, that's pretty weak.
I'm lame.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Stuff Nightmares are Made of

That's my life!
I've never gotten more reader feed back, so quickly, than the "Guilt Trip" post*.
Sure, I sent it to friends in a desperate need for sympathy.
-But people I didn't even send it to sent me emails - even readers I've never met (Hi Guys! Thank you for randomly following my blog)

I want to just let everyone know that I'm doing fine now.
Saturday, I was still in a rough place, I think the shaking hands were due to the lack of nourishment.
Sunday, I ate bland all day and took it easy.

Today, I am doing great and feeling awesome.
This is probably because I slept most of the day Sunday - which was great fun.
I napped. Now I know what all you sleepers are talkin' about. Napping is pretty great.
I'm not much of a sleeper. I'm like a morning, night, and late night person. I'm pretty much sleepy during the one time I'm never near a bed - afternoon for those of you nodding off.

I also appreciate all the sympathetic emails of people telling me that they were very scared by the miserable frightening evening because they've had nightmares like that.
I am so sorry that you have nightmares that bad!
It wasn't a fun ordeal, I'm just glad that it's over.

One of the things that got me through it was a saying my Mom would say during crappy times in life:

This too, shall pass

*At the time of this post roommate Tom has yet to speak to me.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Quotes from Comix

On September 15th 2007 I performed at Comix Comedy Club in NYC's trendy meat packing district.
It was a really nice place.
I was ridiculously pumped for the show because I was told I would get a good tape out of it. And I desperately need a tape of my new material.

I was actually a little over pumped because when she asked how I wanted to be introduced I blanked.
"Um...I'm all over New York City."

"...Sue, you host a show on the Lower East Side and have performed at all of the major clubs."

"Yeah, that too! Say that."

Her introduction couldn't have been more awesome though, because she said the other stuff and then said, "She has the greatest name you'll ever hear, Sue Funke!"

This worked perfectly with the set I had rehearsed, yet my hands, not so much.
I just shook with excitement, I grasped the mic for comfort. I felt like I was more obvious than Ali (...too soon?)

Apparently though, no one noticed but me.

Here's the feedback from the show:

-"You broke the room open. You were the comic that made the entire room laugh."

Sue Funke! You are great!

You remembered my name! I don't even know you and you remembered my name; you're awesome!!

-"You've come a long way from the improv shows at the Brokerage. You were amazing tonight."

-"Beautiful and funny!"

I have to say the feedback does have me glowing.
Quick comments though - um all the stuff about my appearance, it's flattering but it's also a byproduct of:
-throwing up my entire day the night before
-angry work outs (I've been having some stress lately, so I work out angry - kick my own ass)

Also, no one ever commented on my looks after my show when I was chubby.
"Your third chin really glowed up there!"

"You were amazing, you covered the entire stage, and didn't move an inch!"

I know, I know, I should just take the compliment already.

Thanks to everyone who came to the show! The support is appreciated.
Reminder: My Comedy Schedule is located here.

"Guilt Trip"

This post could also be titled
"A very horrible night"
"Sleeping in a Stairwell"
"Miserably Frightening Evening"

On Friday I went out, even though my stomach wasn't really happy with me.
I wanted to catch up with some old friends. So, I went to the bar to meet them and sipped water for a while and listened to stories while my stomach started to burn.
I lasted until about 9pm and then I knew I had to get home.
So, I hopped into a cab and curled up in the fetal position.
I needed a medicine at home that basically prevents me from puking and makes me fall asleep.

I rarely throw up,
but when I do, it's horrible.

I don't just spew.
My intestines writhe and spasm.
I heave about every 3 minutes.
I hurl about every 10.
I usually cry from the pain.

I desperately wanted to avoid this.
I just wanted to take my medicine and quietly pass out.

When I get to the apartment I see the worst thing you could see at this point:
My keys were on the table.

I texted my roommates.
New-roommate-Emily was on a date.
She was in the middle of dinner and couldn't get out of there until 12ish.
roommate Tom was drinking with the same people he was with last night, and the night before, at beerfest.

I of course figured roommate Tom would come through and help me out.


Well, besides being a friend, I have done a series of favors for roommate Tom the past few months that I had been saving up his "I owe you ones" and now had a great need to cash them in.

What kind of favors you ask? below is the list:
-picked up and paid for his laundry
-woke up at 6 AM to pay rent and explained to the land lord that roommate Tom didn't have his yet
-did his dishes, at least 10 times
-cleaned his room and set it up all nice for a girl
-gone to the store for him in the rain

There are more things I'm sure, but whatever, we're friends. Friends help each other out.

So, I text roommate Tom and ask him to come home with the keys.
No response.
I tell him I need to get in to take medicine.
No response.
I start to feel even sicker, like the puking might come soon.
I call him up - get his voicemail - beg him to come home.
He texts me finally - Gonna be a while.
I ask him to please head home instead of staying out, and explain that Emily isn't able to leave.
He tells me he's going to The Liar.
I beg him to come home instead.
He tells me to get a cab into the city and get keys from him.
I tell him I can't get a cab,
I'm about to get sick.
No response.
I try to get a cab, by now I'm feeling really weak, I'm wobbling like I'm drunk, but I haven't drank all night.
I luck out! A cab pulls to the curb, but before I can open the door it's too late -
I throw up.

The cab pulls away and I'm now crying to roommate Tom's voicemail to come home to help me.
He texts me that he doesn't appreciate my guilt trip.

I crawl into the stairwell by our apartment and spend the next two and a half hours
and going through the normal throw up routine.

My phone dies.
I use my computer to IM text roommate Tom.
He finally started on his way home, but he's gone the wrong way on the subway - it'll be a while.

Finally, at around 11:45 my neighbor is walking their dog and I pop out from the stairwell and scream her name. She runs over to me and helps me up to her apartment where her and her boyfriend were kind enough to give me a sweatshirt and some tea.
roommate Tom texts me about 20 minutes later
"Opened the door, going to the bar"
I didn't see him, I just walked in to the open door, got a bucket and crawled into bed.

New-roommate-Emily came home about 20 minutes later and came down to check on me.
My old buddy Tom did not.

I haven't talked to him since.

I wasn't trying to make him feel guilty on Friday.
I was desperately trying to get help.

A mutual friend of ours reasoned, "Well, you should've just told him that you had a keg you needed help with, then he'd come help you".

I wonder if beer was locked out if he would've come to help it out.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Who do you have to know to see some boobies?

A couple of weeks ago, roommate Tom and I were in a cab at 3AM.
We were drunk. (obviously)
And we decided that it was finally the appropriate time for us to do something we've long joked about doing. We were finally going to go to SCANDALS, a strip club that we pass on our cab rides home.

"I'm serious, we're gonna do this," said Tom as he held onto his BMT sandwich from Subway.

"So am I!" I said as I swung my tuna sub for emphasis.

"Are you sure you're not a lesbian?"

"Positive. I just want to see how bad it is. If my careers totally bottom out, I'll know what I have to look forward to."

"I'm serious about doing this."

"So am I!"

He then asked the cabby if he wanted to see titties.
The cabby did not. No matter how persuasive Tom tried to be,
"It's on me. You need to see titties. It helps you drive better. I'll buy you a beer."

"Tom, he's gotta drive he can't drink."

"Don't be a wuss. You can't be a wuss about this. He's obviously not a wuss. He's a man that wants to see titties with us."

He did not.

We got out of the cab, Tom put on his glasses, and we stumbled over to the SCANDALS entrance. We were greeted by a very large bouncer who looked at us long and hard with our subway sandwiches and me covered in my laptop bag and giant purse.

We were obviously not regulars to this club circuit. He told us to get our ID's out.

Then, three men walk in. One of them explains that he and his friends don't need to pay, they're friends of Crystal. The bouncer goes and gets another bouncer. The head bouncer comes over and looks cautiously at Tom swaying and then address the group of three men.

At this time I heard the most amazing statement ever.
"Yeah, I'm Crystal's brother. "

This dude brought his friends to see his sister strip, because of this he got to cut us.

Tom, kinda out of it trying to get his ID, missed this exchange and starts to make a fuss about the fact that we've been cut. This is when Head Bouncer says, "They're not allowed in".


Maybe if Tom was related to someone we would've been in.

The night wasn't a total loss. We went to our local bar and told them our tale of woe.
We received free Irish Car Bombs for our sad tale.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The Britney Spears Train Wreck..

Has come to the complete climatic collision I was waiting for.

It's horrifically petty of me, but I have a secret battle with Britney Spears.
She is my age.
And she's made more money than me since I was a teenager.
She is retarded.
And I am an intelligent woman.


I honestly push myself to do all the sit ups I do because I'm like,
Britney does like 500 a day.
If that stupid blonde can do it, I totally can.

She's been making horrible decisions lately, we've all seen it.
You can't escape it.
So, tonight I was sooo eager to see how the VMA performance would be.

Because last week she went out without wearing pants.
How is she going to pull off sexy a week after she was that obviously not ok?

I justified my eagerness to see Brit's performance with the following story:
Ya know that person who's a real addict
and they start getting so messed up
that they get messed up at work
and mess up at work
and make a complete ass of themselves?
Well, this time it's going to be televised.

And honestly folks, she's gone.
Watch this and tell you would pay to see this in concert:

Britney's MTV performance brought to you by MTV

I hope she gets some serious mental help.
I also hope to steal her salary while she's down.
What!?! Come on, don't even act like you don't want crazy amounts of money.

In other recaps of the awards -
Justin Timberlake is totally cool for using the show to call MTV out for not playing music videos anymore.

Kayne is an amazing performer and I totally want to get his new albulm and dance to it in my basement for hours.

Sarah Silverman reminded me about how annoying insulting female comedians are getting.
Can't we have a famous comedian with some hubris?

Oh wait..
You can come see my shows and see that this week!

Awesome sauce.

Saturday, September 08, 2007


On Friday, I had this 1 hour call-a-thon,
it was like everyone decided at once that they needed:
to flake
me to answer a question
or me to make them feel better

20 calls within 1 hour.
30 texts within that hour.

I turned my cell phone off, walked up the street, hopped on the V, read for a half hour, and emerged from sweltering subway onto a bustling 6th ave, turned down West 4th, and entered the bar.

There were my friends, drunk, laughing, telling ridiculous stories.

People often say "there's no place like home".
This is not true for some people.
Some people haven't settled in a home yet.
Rather they live like nomads, wondering from lease to lease, roommate to roommate, job to job.
And for these people, there is no place like wherever your friends are.
It's the place where you exhale and say,
it's not home, but it does have it's comforts.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Brain Cloud

I came home sick today from work.
I don't know if it was because I was raised Catholic,
or just in eternal fear of never falling behind with school,
but there's a giant guilty feeling when I leave sick.

People get sick.

I get sick all the freakin' time.

Today's illness: Cold/Flu/Sinus pains
-oh, and let's not forget the brain cloud.

I feel absolutely retarded.
I am not communicating well.
I might need to wear a helmet.

I am only going to edit this blog four times and then make myself dinner and then pass out.
I gotta get it all done so I can go to sleep.

Maybe I'm not guilty, maybe I'm just OCD.

Also, I should consider calling my blog Sick Sue Funke because the most tags I have on this blog are on the topics of me being ill.

ps - for those of you unaware, the title of this blog is a concept of an illness conjured up so that Tom Hanks would sacrafice himself for people that live on a tropical island and are way into orange soda -which is pretty much the amazing plot for the movie Joe Versus the Volcano. You should definitely see this movie people - Meg Ryan, three roles, one movie. COME ON! ...oh god i'm sick.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Fashion Week in NYC

Fashion week kicks off today.
This means that the number of anorexic women online at the Starbucks will double in the Bryant Park area.

This also means that Jen Hubley will be out and about in the tents covering the real deal.
Check out her always hilarious fashion week blog.

My hopes for this fashion week is that the colors are not florescent, mini skirts don't come in Brittney Spears size, and that 60's trends come back more than 80's (which is like reiterating my point about florescent colors basically).

Monday, September 03, 2007

Mad Men - Best Show of the Summer

Well, this summer has brought us some good viewing.
I was surprised to see that almost every night of the week my DVR was busy capturing episodes of programs that I was too busy to watch live.

On HBO there was the hilarious Flight of the Concords.
It's another funny duo of comedic musicians in silly scenarios.
I enjoyed it, but I also liked it the first time, when it was called Tenacious D.

HBO also provided great summer entertainment with Big Love coming back strong.
This season tackled a lot of great issues, and was really well written, shot, and let me just give it up for David Byrne who is a musical scoring genius. Read about his thoughts on scoring the second season here. Honestly the choices in music this season were absolutely riveting and perfect. At one point he even went so bold as to use Hardcore punk music - in a show about Mormon polygamy to evoke emotion. I personally think that statement speaks volumes about the boldness of this show.

But the biggest surprise of the summer has to be Mad Men.
Someone, please tell me you are watching this show. It's brought to us by the producers of The Sopranos, and is shot just as beautifully. Alan Taylor, the director from the great Sopranos episode "The Ride" has directed a couple of episodes, and man were they beautiful. The entire appeal of Mad Men is that it's set in the 1950's at an advertising agency. It's thrilling to see the sets, the costumes, and also the dirty little secrets behind successful men.

The use of gender roles in story lines is also really fun. The secretaries that have to know their place, the housewives that must keep the kids clean and dinner on the table, and the one divorced woman that strikes fear into the heart of the entire community for allowing such a tabooed life.

The great thing about Mad Men though, is that it doesn't just use it's setting to drive stories. Each character has their own flesh and tale. And the actors are some of the best around. I'm very happy to see the daughter from the West Wing doing more than commercials. Her talents for being naive and sweet show just the tip of the great casting done on this series.

I can't write this without mentioning the main character, Don Draper. First of all, great character name. Second, awesome character history - you have to watch the show to see how each week you find out a little more about this mysterious serious man. Third, Jon Ham is just a great actor who was born for this role as the quick on his feet, slick yet smooth advertising genius.

If you get AMC, start watching Mad Men ASAP. If not go here and get the episodes off of iTunes. You won't be sorry you did.

Also, you'll now have something to talk to me about, because I've been dying to discuss this show with someone and it seems all you crazy people haven't even heard of the summer's best show.

For shame.

Go watch Mad Men!

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Girls who hate Girls

The other night I ran into a girl
who for some reason hates me.
She spoke to me in the phony voice:
you know, the kind where the eyebrows lift and the smile is flat
and the ingenious of the words, "great to see you," are so pointed that you feel as if you can see them slice through the air as if they are daggers meant to cut you.

I don't know what I did to provoke this.
It was upsetting for me, because I hadn't seen her for a long time
and didn't recall us parting on bad terms.
I was even more perplexed because I had corresponded with her recently
and she seemed quite kind,
but maybe I just couldn't read the sarcasm.

I asked my other friend who saw this display,
"What's up with that frost?"
She replied,
"She's just one of those girls who hates girls"
but I'm totally not a girly girl!
I always hang out with guys,
because I usually prefer the male hang out session to the female.

Male hang out session: Hang out, watch tv, talk about tv program/sports
Female hang out session: Hang out, watch tv, talk about how we feel about everything and everyone.

I'm not dissing on the female hang out sessions, but I more often prefer the male hang out.
But I'm not gonna be mean to girls because of this.

My friend agreed, but said that this girl in particular
just hates girls.
It's her thing.

This behavior reminded me of a time that I once told my friend, Erica Watson
that I hated white people.
And she said, "You should never hate your own kind, because really you're just hating yourself."
Maybe this girl just hates herself.

Don't get me wrong here,
there are some girls who just drive me nuts,
but I don't hate all of them.
Nor do I fire off the dagger tongue unless they pricked me first.

My point here is,
don't discriminate so blindly,
wait for me to do something mean to you*,
then treat me cruel.

*You'll probably end up waiting a long time. I work hard at not being mean to others since I believe in karma.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Astoria: The Best Neighborhood Ever

This morning I awoke to pizza boxes and dirty plates
the remains of a very fun Friday night.
I cleaned up the boxes and brought them out front
barefoot, in my pjs, having not looked in a mirror I am not positive-
but I'm pretty sure, my hair was going in 30 different directions.

My neighbor was also throwing out garbage.
A plastic container that might've held muffins
or cupcakes (mmm...cupcakes - btw I went here this week - happiest place EVER.)
She looked upon my messy state and smiled wide.
"Good morning!" I croaked in my first statement of the morning voice.
"Good morning!" She genuinely replied.
We both laughed a little knowing that we were both tired from two very different evenings.

I then went to the new organic market: Natural Market on 46-03 Broadway
This place is awesome. Smoothies, nice seating area, fresh food, and great selection.
I love these little fresh markets.
Maybe it's because my Dad would have as much excitement about taking me to a market
that a normal person would have about a giant, fun, state fair.
But little markets like this make me think of going to Pat's Farms and just spending hours visiting all the different sections of food. Pat's Farms smelled like wet saw dust, raw fish and meats, and old cheese. It was great.
This market smells like oats and fruit, which is much sweeter.

On the way back to my apartment with the giant FOR SALE sign in front of it
I got a little sad.
This neighborhood is so pleasantly mixed.
I saw kids on their scooters racing,
I walked by the community pool where parents sat feeding their soggy kids sandwiches
There was an old man pushing his grandchild with pride I've only seen in pictures
A young couple was holding each other strolling through the park
The bells from the church chimed a sweet melody
and the ice cream truck played it's tune that entices all children with full bellies to run for more

I looked at this neighborhood on it's sunny day and then I went in and sat in my giant living room
and wished there was some way I'd never have to leave here.
But we'll have to.
This giant living room is supposed to be a waiting room.
My roommates bedrooms are offices.
And my room without windows -a storage place.

I took a long walk around and just appreciated having this space.
I hope to stay around this neighborhood.

If you're reading this and you're a hipster though...don't move to Astoria it totally blows.