If You're Going to Party, Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair

Things you need to know about this picture:
This is a pic of Hubs
It's her birthday.
Those flowers are real.
She did that herself.
She wasn't in a bridal party, like the people sitting next to me hypothesized.
My stylish, talented pal Jen here celebrated her bday at the Brooklyn Beer Garden.

This party was a test of my love for the hubs.

See, Here are two fun facts about me:
1. I don't like traveling to Brooklyn.
2. I've got the best damn beer garden in walking distance from me.

The Brooklyn Beer Garden attempts to act like it's got history in this neighborhood that has been completely overhauled to be hipster-friendly. It was not a neighborhood of Czechs like Astoria, it was mostly Jewish and Latino.

The Brooklyn Beer Garden's "out door" section has an open roof, but the windows are nailed shut. There are also no fans. I guess this is what makes it "old timey", because it's similar to a sweat shop on a 90 degree day.

I'd complain, but no one has more need to complain than the sausage dude that was working on fryer all day.

I really can't complain either, because the company and delicious beers made the time spent there well worth it. I rolled in with fellow Astorian, Rachel, around 6pm, and ended up chatting it up with party goers until 12:30am, when a newly made pal walked me to the cab station.

Over the course of the day there were presents brought that were fun for the entire party. Most notably:
-a view finder with interesting animals, that I'm pretty sure aren't real.
-bubbles with various animal blowers

Conclusion: J-Hubs's birthday brings out the bubbly animal in all of us, and she's the flowery centerpiece of festivities.

It's My Brother's Birthday!

I had a dream last night about how I was walking in Manhattan and I was supposed to meet up with my friend Matt Urban.
Instead - I bumped into my brother Matt Funke!
When I woke up I looked at the calendar and realized it was Matt's birthday.
Thanks unconsciousness! You are so good at remembering.

Matt is ten years older than me.
So he's the easiest math to figure out how old he is every year.

My brother Mike is 9 years older than me.
Jen is 12 years older than me.
They're more complicated, I've got to carry one's - it gets involved.

By now you might be thinking- "My, that's a large age difference."
Sure is.

My nickname was "hole in the condom".

My parents denied this.
My mother said I was a luxury baby.
My father explained this as, "You were the kid we could actually afford to have."

Either way - happy birthday to my big brother Matt.
The best babysitter in the world - we'd get a movie, soda, pizza, and a pint of Ben and Jerry's each and hang out late.
The best influencer of music - he taught me to love classic rock.
and an all around great big brother - even though he lives in Florida, if anyone messes with me, watch out sucker!!

Best Birthday Ever

Or, Week Off Day #3
If you have the means, I highly recommend taking the week of your birthday off.
My birthday was wonderful thanks to my amazing friends, and my great family.

I went to lunch at La Bonne Soupe which is absolutely amazing. If you're a foodie, or a lover of good restaurants get your butt to this quiet corner in midtown. Don't get me wrong, the place is hopping and you'll pretty much always wait for a seat - but it's totally worth it:

For about $17 bucks you can get the town's best French Onion Soup, Bread, Side Salad (It's really fresh lettuce and a light dressing which I even enjoy, and I'm not a salad dressing kinda gal.) AND a glass of wine. It might not sound like a lot, but trust me here people - it's delicious.

Then I went to the Paley Center for Media (formerly the Museum of Television and Radio) and went straight to the viewing library. My best friend from college, Will, met me there and we each picked one half hour sitcom to watch. See, they have this GIANT library of TV shows that you can pretty much watch any show ever made.

I picked the Cheers Thanksgiving episode "Orphans". This is probably one of the funniest television episode ever made. The reason it works is because it's a well functioning cast of characters that the actors so naturally portray - there is also a giant food fight that makes it look like the best day of "work" ever. Seriously, if I could act in anything, I'd pick recreating that episode. (When I was watching this I got a hilariously "bitter" call from my brother Mike about how he was tossed aside when I was born 26 years ago. If you think I'm at all funny, trust me when I say that my brother Mike is waaaay funnier than I am. Probably some of the funniest lines I've ever heard in my life were from him.... and not suitable for this blog.)

Will picked the pilot for the show Parker Lewis Can't Lose, because that was Will's idol when he was in school. I had never seen the show before, but of course knew of it's existence, because TV is my favorite part of life. The show is absolutely absurd, but had it's moments. My favorite part is that the gymnasium is decorated for a dance and the theme is "Remember the 80's"; the show was first aired in 1990.

Will and I then took the train downtown and he jumped off at 34th street and I went down to the office. Don't worry - I didn't do a lick of work. I came in just in time for our holiday card photo, hung out for a little bit with people not in meetings, and then went to get my nails done.

After all this fun, I was ready for my party.

At the Liar, all the regular's showed up, and had brought me many funny gifts. All silly wonderful inside joke gifts. Then there were drinks, oh were there drinks. I chose "The Pink Drink" that Shafer often makes my friend Ben Kissel. He told me what was in it at one point, but I forgot -it's that good! Work, comedy, and old friends came to hang out and enjoyed the newer, larger liar - with a foosball table. I lost at foosball, but had a pretty hilarious time trying to play and drink.

Then, the bold, the crazy, and the comedians headed to Second on Second for Karaoke. The DJ Chris had no idea what he was getting into when we rolled in. It was a very crazy music selection from Britney Spears (It is hard to do those songs when you're wasted! I'm sorry girl.) to Barry Manilow (Little known fact, I know every word to Copa Cabana.) I got my request of having Shafer do his rendition of "Your So Vain", he does it all in first person. Arthur and I did some Jimmy Buffet as well. But, the best act of the night had to be Ann and Lindsay (The Brunettes) singing Gangster's paradise. Simply amazing.

I can't thank my friends enough, for not only coming out- but for also all the great messages I received. Thanks again everyone for helping me ring in my 26th year so happily.

The D-day of the B-day

I could care less about age.
I love the idea of getting older.
Every year I learn new things,
meet new people,
and end up at least a little bit better at life.

I can't wait to go gray. I actually decided to stop dying my hair to see if there are any signs of silver.

But birthdays, oy. They just never seem to be what you want them to be.
December 5th should be a day of being happy to be alive, but instead it's been a day that's spurned infamy, several years over.

Like, my Sweet 16, my Dad up-and-died - so he didn't come to my simple dinner party, and more than half of my "friends" didn't show either.

Or, my 20th when I got a speeding ticket, food poisoning during my party, and my boyfriend of about 9 years decided that was a good time to let me know he had been cheating on me for months.

Or, my 24th when a female friend of mine hijacked my party and painted me as an asshole in front of friends who hadn't seen me in a while, caused a fight between me and a very close friend, and made me hysterically cry for hours.
-Shock of shocks, we're not really pals anymore.

Last year might be a turning point though.
It went much better because, well no one close to me died, cheated on me, or turned out to be a manipulative bitch...pretty much had no where to go but up at that point.

I was also performing stand-up. In fact, my first ever paying gig was on my 25th birthday.

This year, I am once again attempting a birthday party.
I feel like it might go well because I planned it with these terms:
I want to do something that I enjoy doing,
invite people I enjoy spending time with
- but if I don't like the company,
or if anything shitty happens,
I wanna be in "happy places".

These spots are the Four Faced Liar and a Karaoke bar.
Things won't seem so bad when I pull off Oops I Did It Again better than Britney herself.

I've made the following request of all my friends:
I want free alcohol and cupcakes

I've also taken the entire week off from the day job so I can actually relax for week,
and only do two jobs.
That's my present to me.

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.

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...

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!