Counting down my top 15 favorite things. Laundry Day is definitely going to be missed!
Never having to do my own laundry has been wonderful! Just put it outside your cabin and it appears magically clean and wonderful smelling 24 hours later! How will I ever manage without this magical thing called Laundry Day?
Â
Though my internet connection is expensive, slow and generally non-existent, I’m still soaking up some linky-love! First, Marilyn over at California Fever tagged Funchilde for a “Thinking Blogger” award. As if that wasn’t enough, my colleague Adrienne from Gadling, nominated one of my shots from India for the “Photo of the Day” on April 14th.
So, as part of the “Thinking Blogger” award/meme, I’m supposed to nominate 5 (five) bloggers for this award. This is a virtually impossible task for me because I read so many and I only read blogs that make me laugh or make me think. So I’m going to highlight some blogs that I normally wouldn’t/don’t mention here.
Mad As Hell Club: I don’t even know how to describe this. Just read their description here. They aren’t happy with the way things are going and they’re using their brains and creative talent to give voice to some solutions and ideas. AND they are pretty funny if you like smart, fast, acerbic wit.
Lynne D. Johnson: If I wasn’t me, I’d want to be Lynne Johnson. She’s smart and her profile resonates with me, black, feminist, hip-hopper, nerd. She writes and publishes on several spaces/platforms and I have been following her off and on for about 2 years. I found her current platform through Swirl’s blogfeeds.
J. Brotherlove: Freelance writer, web designer, and all around smart guy. Love his socio-cultural view on events and personalities. Just when I think I’ve got something figured out, I wander over and J blows me away with his perspective.
Opinionistas: Reformed lawyer chick Melissa Lafsky in Manhattan. “A continuous examination of the ridiculousness of human behavior”-how could you not rush to check out something with a tagline like that? Her acerbic wit and biting commentary on the legal profession specifically, and mundane office work in general make me laugh and make me think about how I’m living my “work” life.
The Happiness Project: Gretchen’s posts are at once personal and intellectual, social commentary and scientific examination-all on the subject of happiness. She and I would have almost nothing in common except a love of reading from what I can tell (she doesn’t enjoy listening to music—WHAT?) but I dig the way her brain works and the tips, insights, quotes and struggles to obtain and maintain that elusive zen state.
So get to it, I’ve just handed you nuggets of gold with which you can further delay doing actual work or performing necessary errands.
Things I’m thinking about:
Should I head to Beijing from Hong Kong?
Tragedy at VA Tech
RIP Kurt Vonnegut
Don Imus controversy
In the ultimate nod to narcissism (and per my father’s request for more pictures of myself), I present to you: My Dirty Fourth Birthday in Pictures.
I was awakened at 0800 by a knock on my cabin door and went out to find a delivery of 50 cookies from my shipmate Shayla!Â
I had all kinds of cards and balloons and stuff on my door which I quickly took down because I do all that I can to ensure that the students don’t know exactly where I dwell. Because they barely let me walk from one end of the ship to the other as it is.
It was a “No Class Day” which meant everyone got to sleep in a bit, so the ship was really quiet. I spent the next two hours roaming around the ship trying to off-load cookies on students, staff and crew.
I received a nice surprise in my Senior Staff Meeting…the best ice-cream cake.ever.period. But my birthday didn’t keep us from working. Or rather, I did all of the work as usual. But there were lattes, smoothies and hot chocolate to supplement the sugar high of the cookies and cake.
At 1200 hours I had lunch with “The Boys.” The one to my immediate left in this pic is one of a pair of twins. Joshua (and his brother Gregory) played tricks on me for the first week on the ship before I knew they were twins and thought it was just one overzealous, cutie-pie kid who might need an “after school special” talk about “inappropriate feelings for your elders.” However they are now two of my favorite students.
Later, I went to my office and did some important work.
I capped the night off with a meeting with the “Students of Color @ Sea” group and much later a get together and a margarita (or 3) in the faculty/staff lounge. It was a great day indeed. Thank all yall for your well wishes, e-mails, e-cards and shout outs.
A special “Happy Birthday” goes out to my birthday buddy Sarah Grace!
Just a quickie yall. On the move to the BAHAMAS! Don’t HATE, CONGRATULATE! Sorry, I got a little carried away.
[1] Funchilde and Megan got a HUGE shout out on the National Geographic Traveler blog! Holla!
[2] I have a couple of new posts up over at Gadling (my posts are here Mom), good grazing while I get my life together over here.
I drove out of New Hampshire like a bat out of hell escaping the snow. For the first 45 minutes I thought I might have to turn back and delay my departure. I hit more snow in Connecticut, then high winds in New York, but the sun started to shine. I shed layers as I got further south. Wander Woman (my new new to me car) shed the layers of ice and snow, and I even rolled down the windows without complaint at the 47 tolls and to check out the Basketball Hall of Fame.
I hit Virginia with a smile on my face. Then I ran into a blinding snow on Rte 29 and my smile faded as the sound of metal on metal trumped my new favorite CD. Guardrail 1, Funchilde 0.
All is well, the packing continues.
T-minus: 5 days and counting to Semester at Sea.
    Â
I’M No AnGeL But.., originally uploaded by ..Pu®e PoiSÇ’N...
So, I’ve been blogging for a year. My blogiversary was Saturday and this post was written more than a year ago as I worked up the courage to quit my lucrative career, pack everything up and rent out the house, give the nod to a relationship that the sun was setting on, and take a leap of faith. Let me know what you think, share your own story if you like.
A TALE OF TWO ELLENS
The first Ellen was a junior high school classmate. Ellen B was closer to our mutual friend Monica than to me, but we were an affable group of 14 year olds who swore we had dozens of friends and fantastically cosmopolitan futures ahead of us. The second Ellen was a professor at the undergraduate business school that I attended. Ellen W was an Associate Dean by the time I reconnected with her in 2004. And though I had never had her as professor, she was happy to meet me for lunch, where we hunched over an index card as she helped me construct a metric to evaluate graduate programs. These two women were almost 20 years apart in age, and their successive deaths in 2005 still manage to astonish me.
Initially I thought that the two Ellens were pretty different from one another, one was black, the other white, one was younger and lived on the west coast, the other more mature (in years) and a long time east coaster. But after some scrutiny, I realized their similarities were remarkable. They were both single, neither had children and both had a deep, almost tangible faith in God. They were both kind, generous and carried themselves with a humility and openness that is hard to articulate, but easy to recognize. They both had what I call a “warm spiritâ€. They were the kind of people that even if you don’t believe in God, it would comfort you to know that you were in their prayers. Though I failed to find much dissimilarity in their lives, their deaths couldn’t have been more incongruous.
Ellen B died slowly, over the course of two years, battling daily to gain the upper hand over an aggressive disease. The last time I spoke to her, she sounded like she was winning. Ellen W died suddenly, over two days, succumbing to a merciless virus without warning, healthy on Friday, gone on Monday.
I was heartsick over Ellen B’s passing in that human way we all react when someone our own age dies. I wondered if she ever got the chance to fall in love? Did she travel to foreign lands and eat foods she couldn’t recognize? Did she dream about marriage or children? I wondered if she had ever been so happy, that time slowed down and she could feel the earth’s movement moment by moment for a split second, with a grin on her face and people she loved around her? I did not know these things because we fell out of touch after high school, I kept up with her through mutual friends, but our personal spheres never crossed until I called her when I learned that she was ill.
I was heartsick over Ellen W’s passing in that human way we all react when someone we have recently spent time with or laid eyes on dies. And I wondered about her life and loves too. I hope that both Ellens had the joy and heartbreak of a full life. That they were not strangers to love (people, places and things), and its inevitable companion: heartbreak.
I do admit to hoping that both found work that they were passionate about and utilized their gifts and talents. I hope that they both had many moments of heart-bursting joy, to temper the inevitable pain of a human existence. But mostly I hope, for my own selfish reasons, that neither died alone. That each was comforted by both earthly and heavenly creatures. That on one side of the divide of time, there were warm hands pressed into theirs, soft skin stroking foreheads and whispers of psalms and peace. And I hope that on the other, there were unmistakable celebrations of divine welcome and promises of harmony and rest.
I of course recognize that I wish these things not only for them, but also for myself and for all of us who have yet to make the final journey home. And it gives me a comfort that I cannot name, to think that when my time on this earth has come to an end, that I will be greeted by two warm spirits that seem at once familiar and breathtaking, but happy to see me. I wish this for all of us. And so I go, because time truly waits for no (wo)man.
Let’s get this party started.
   Â
First, I hope you all have had festive, merry, restful and wonderful holidays. Whatever you celebrate, I hope you did just that…celebrate. To the friends and family I haven’t been able to catch up with over the break….please know that I lurve you like play cousins. (Momma D, S, S, S & S, and B, I mean yall).
Second, I got my first ever meme tag. I’m supposed to divulge 6 (sicks) weird things about myself so that you can glean further insight as to my person and personality and have further reason to judge me without giving me a chance.
Oooh, But first:
I have been in my pajamas for 4 straight days, playing War of the Monsters on PS2 with my nephew. In between: Grad School applications, work, naps, work, calculating days until I hit the road, work. I’m stressed as Hell right now, but happy to be with my family. It is the first year in a loooong time that I’ve been here to celebrate all 7 days of Kwanzaa (or as I like to call it: Fun with Candles and Swahili!).
Speaking of my nephew, he’s 9 going on 50. He wears, get this…a plaid robe, old man slippers, glasses, and uses the phrase “oh but on the contrary”…and I caught him watching Judge Matthis on Friday! I will not be surprised when he walks around the corner with a pipe one day. Really, I won’t.
6 Weird Things:
1. I performed in a rap group for a talent show my freshman year of college. Yes, I know how that sounds, but it was hellla fun.
2. I really, really enjoy washing dishes. It relaxes me and I can zone out and think while doing it. I’ll generally eschew using a dishwasher and do them by hand. I also like to cook, which makes me a great catch for some deserving lovehound out there. BUT, I can’t stand to dry or empty the diswasher.
3. My favoritest snack in all the world is microwave popcorn and diet Pepsi. Yum!
4. I have known since I was about 10 years old that I didn’t actually want to HAVE kids.
5. About once a month I pull a work related all-nighter because it is quiet and I can get a lot done. This freaks people out then they get used to it.
6. I am allergic to raw apples. I think its the pesticides, but my throat gets white spots and itches like hell. Cooked apples…apple sauce, apple strudel, etc…bring it on.
And I do in fact like bacon more than you think! See you in the 007.
*pic courtesy of elemanotees.com
Countdown to Semester at Sea: 29 days
 Â
The main thing I like about traveling is the people. That said I don’t necessarily like ALL of the people all of the time, but everybody’s got a story and I’m curious enough to want to hear it. The people that cause me to roll my eyes are not suffering personality flaws so much as they possess some unfortunate personal/physical/hygienic issue that I simply cannot overlook. Here are a few of the types of travelers that I try to keep an eye out for (continued from pt. i):
2. The Bump’n Grinders: Simply put these are the people that stand so close to you when you are in line that they can read your passport number through your pants. This is largely cultural in nature. Latin Americans and Spaniards have a lower threshold for personal space. They are very affectionate, touchy-feely, and culturally comfortable with people standing very close, touching them and even jumping/cutting lines. Uh, and I’m a Crazy.Black.Chick. with the emphasis on Crazy and Black, for this sidenote. Studies show that people of different cultures, races and sexes, tend to put more space between themselves when interacting, than when talking to someone of the same race, culture and gender. As an African American Female I like about 17 feet of clear space in all directions around me at all times, my Latin American amigos…not so much. My remedy is to go on the offense. I now try to see how many different people I can touch or jostle at a time. And if you’re cute…no, that wasn’t me that pinched your bum bum.
**Why I’m going to hell: for pinching people’s bum-bums!
So you tell us about some of the people you’ve met on the road!
To Be Continued…
Â
I’m probably going to HELL for this but…
The main thing I like about traveling is the people. That said I don’t necessarily like ALL of the people all of the time, but everybody’s got a story and I’m curious enough to want to hear it. The people that cause me to roll my eyes are not suffering personality flaws so much as they possess some unfortunate personal/physical/hygienic issue that I simply cannot overlook. Here are a few of the types of travelers that I try to keep an eye out for:
1. The Hackasaurus Rex: This is the person that sits next to or near you on a plane/train/bus that has some (probably contagious) unfortunate upper respiratory disease that causes them to hack non-stop from Albany to Zurich. Absent earphones or earplugs you will not get a moment of sleep because of their persistent cough. They have been coughing so long that they no longer bother (much) to cover their mouth, and you can feel their amoeba attacking your white blood cells before the plane hits the runway. This person is usually between 40 and 60 years old and NEVER has any ‘Tussin, Vicks or cough drops.
** Why I’m going to hell: I recently sat next to a Hackasaurus. She looked healthy and bright eyed when I sat down. 20 minutes later I realized my mistake. I offered her the half-eaten roll of cough drops from my daypack. She took ONE. I was like “oh Hell-to-the-naw, you can keep the whole roll†okay I was only thinking that. She takes the roll and says “they work a little, but not for long. I have lung cancer.†Yes, people I know. Bad Funchilde, I hopefully somewhat redeemed myself by sending up prayers and good vibes for her. We did giggle a bit about some things during the trip but I wanted so badly to reach out and touch her arm and just let her know I was there and I heard her and I was grateful for the health she did have. Unfortunately, we were laughing too much for me to inject that sentimental nonsense into the moment. My grandmother is a breast cancer survivor, I lost my ex father in-law (yeah I’m confused too) and my Aunt Gloria to cancer. I promise, next time I see one of those yellow Livestrong bracelets I’m all over it!
To Be Continued….
So, tell us about some of the whacky characters and charming people you’ve met on the road!Â
Â
Â
This post is in honor of November being Funchilde’s worst month for romantic relationships.
November 1985: Jr. High School Crush ends at Dance
November 1988: Dumped guy who would become successful engineer and varsity swimmer in college
November 1990: Met now ex husband
November 2001: Now have ex husband
November 2005: Split with S, another itchy footed globe-trotter to pursue non-complimentary travel paths
I was talking on the phone with one of my best friends last year after a break-up. She called me a jerk for ignoring the overtures of friendship from my most recent ex. [who calls anyone a “jerk anymore? ] I have to admit that I have never understood people who are friends with people they were once romantically involved with. I guess I took the “ex†to mean “former†as in “no longer relevant†or as Tony Soprano might say “You’re dead to me!†However, it seems that I am not as emotionally healthy or self-actualized as the rest of you. Case in point, I was working on a project with K, a male colleague a few months ago. Around lunch time he said “My ex-wife is coming to meet me for lunch so I have to bail in 20 minutes.†My eyes sparkled at the thought of all the potential drama and afternoon entertainment this might provide. Would there be yelling? flying chinaware? or better yet, sharpened cutlery close at hand? K’s ex-wife showed up brimming with good humor, she grabbed his hand in hers, a warm, platonic gesture of friendship and shook my hand with the other. She was attractive and confident and did not seem the least bit angry or passive aggressive. My hopes for an entertaining afternoon flew out the window as K said “D, this is T, my ex-wife.†I just stared at them, my eyelids shutting slowly and almost audibly. “You guys seem awfully friendly to be exes.†I said. “Oh, we’re best friends! We just couldn’t live together!†This didn’t really clarify things for me. I mean, I feel like that about almost everyone in my life. That’s why they are called “Best Friendsâ€, not exes.
The way I see it, there are really only two responses to becoming an “exâ€. First, if I dumped YOU then CLEARLY you have committed some transgression so egregious that I felt the need to banish you from my sight. Never mind that these could be small things such as misusing words or failing to spell check your e-mails, or breathing too “moistly†during a movie. Now I don’t want to boast, but I am pretty good at building and maintaining relationships. I STILL talk to my best friend from Jr. High, my best friend from high school and my roommate and closest friend from college. I have unnaturally healthy relationships with my parents, and typical ones with my two siblings. That said, when I hear the bells toll or see the sun setting on a relationship, I try to exit as cleanly as possible, preferring that my disappearance is hardly noticed at all. I have never been one of “those people†who after a split, calls the ex or waits for the ex to call, stalks the ex or tries to find myself in places where they might happen upon me. Well, except that one time, and everyone is allowed that “one timeâ€. If I am the dumper, no amount of discussion or reflection will result in the verdict being overturned. To me this generally indicates that there is a lack of general goodwill and affection, which I thought were the basis of friendship?
In the second scenario, if you dump ME, then CLEARLY you are of limited intelligence and have proven yourself emotionally handicapped. I have no problem believing it when someone says to me: “It’s not you, its me.†The way I see it, if someone declines the pleasure of my company then my life’s goal from that point on is to ensure that they receive periodic 2nd hand reports about how fabulous my life is, how much money I make and most important, how much earth stopping nooky I’m getting. I thought this was the universal response to being dumped? I mean, ex friends, ex colleagues and ex lovers are the only true fair game in my book. These are people with whom you have no real mutual desire or need to sustain civility. These are the people whose picture you can put on your dartboard at home or make voodoo dolls out of to assuage your anger. Who hasn’t thought about TP’ing an ex’s house or car? Now if your ex has several very attractive friends that you wouldn’t mind hooking up with I could see the benefit, or if your ex has really great seats to the Eagles or Sixers games, I’d understand, and if you still had occasion to do the nasty with your ex, I could forgive you, but just for the heck of it? I don’t get it. I’m going to need you all to get with the program on this one, because you are limiting my entertainment options with all of these healthy, emotionally adjusted relationships. I mean, who will Jerry Springer call if not the poor, downtrodden, angry masses of doomed romantics? I’m just sayin’.
*graphic courtesy of elemanotees.com
To S: you know i’m only kiddin!