And, since we’re on the topic of comments, let’s talk about yours. I wrote: I UNKNOWINGLY slept with a married man once. He told me he was single; I thought that was shitty. I also wrote: I’ve never knowingly slept with a married man, even though I’ve been approached and tempted by many. So, yesterday at 8:14 a.m., you read and responded to those words with these thoughts:

“Hypocrite! [...] Men who fuck around on their wives are lying both to their wives and to God. They are running around sinning while only pretending to honour their SACRED vows before God to remain exclusively with their spouse.”

Eww, I don’t like self-righteous finger wagging :( Plus, for what it’s worth, I never said I thought it was cool for men to lie to their wives. Sleeping with someone to whom you aren’t married doesn’t always equal cheating/lying. For example, have you heard of open relationships? In life, each coupling is as uniquely individual as the person(s) who enter(s) it. Some men don’t have affairs, some do. Some men lie about their cheating, some men are more upfront. Back to you.

“I don’t see how lying to you, a person who acts like a skank [...]“

Ahem, sorry to interrupt again, but, as I mentioned, it’s MISS Skank ;) Carry on.

“I don’t see how lying to you, a person who acts like a skank, should be seen as being a worse offense than lying to his wife, the mother of his children, and the keeper of his heart and home. Pray tell, don’t you think you’re going to be lied to if that’s your attitude?”

Regarding “lying” men and me being a “skank,” please see my previous comments. [Points up to earlier paragraphs.]

“You reap what you sew, young lady. You are your own worst enemy”

Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong? Why so much hatred in that little, red, faithful heart built for spreading love? Scratch that question. Here’s a better one: What the hell happened in your life that compelled you to spew such venomous thoughts about my fucking sewing skills?!?!?

Be well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, a bit of skanking awaits me.

Yours,

Funky Brown Chick

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Open Letter to the Person Who Called Me A Skank

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Update

In the mood for images instead of words today? Photos above are by fabulous New York City photographer Diana Levine. Snapped during Social Media Week. See more party pics. For personal snapshots and other stuff, you can check out my TwitPic, Flickr or the “In Pictures” series on Funky Brown Chick.

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In Pictures: Social Media Week Photos by Diana Levine

On a different note, I haven’t updated in a while because I’ve been going out a bunch. When the sun is hidden behind grey clouds and the mercury level on the thermostat drops, my natural tendency is to eat comfort food and hibernate in my apartment. This year, I’m determined to brave the cold and stay active during winter months. So, as always, in between Funky Brown Chick posts, you can keep up with me on Twitter and Foursquare.

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Mostly Sunny, Then Cloudy with Scattered Sprinkles

I think back to the years I lived in the CHI. I had a great job, wonderful apartment, padded savings account, etc. But, I felt soooo alone and out of place there. I didn’t feel like I could be myself because people would judge me. I’ve said it before: People generally come from all over the entire world to live in New York City. People generally come from all over the entire Midwest to live in Chicago. In my mind, Illinois is provincial. That doesn’t make it a bad place. Actually, on the contrary, that’s one of its good points. The place is STUFFED with decent fucking down home people — the kind that often seem sparce on the Isle of Manhattan. It’s as if Illinois is the “sensible guy” I should be dating. But, I can’t help it. I’ve never been any good at: (1) being good or (2) doing something solely because it was good for me. Give me a stable, healthy existence without any real challenges (i.e. Illinois) and I’ll bore. I want thrills. Fun. Adventure. Shitty experiences that I’ll bitch and moan about for ages until, years later, I’ll be thankful they caused to me grow into a better person. To me, that’s better than experiencing regrets and unfulfilled dreams. I want to live. You know, like, REALLY live instead of just settling for something that’s the sensible/right thing to do.

Anyway. So, yeah, I really fucking hate New York sometimes. But, I love it too.

Changing the subject. Kind of.

You know it snowed in Illinois on Christmas, right? Snow can be pretty. But, sometimes, it makes cold, damp, grey and cloudy weather.

Sure, it snows in New York, too. But, we have fun with it.

Ages ago, before I moved to Manhattan, a guy friend who is a New Yorker-turned-Chicagoan described Manhattan to me by saying, “It was like watching color TV after only having experienced black and white.” I understand. I really do.

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* Pssssst, the dating culture here is whack, too. But that’s a topic for tomorrow’s post.

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New York, I Hate You … But, I Love You Too.

Hosted by the lovely George Bodarky’s Cityscape explores “the people, places and spirit of New York City and its surroundings.” I’m honored he had me as a guest to share my story about being a solo woman in New York. “According to the Census,” WFUV reminds us, “more than half of all Manhattan residents live alone, and the number of singles in New York City is rising to historic levels.” If you’d like to hear what I — and a few other fun-spirited New Yorkers — had to say about being Single in the City, listen to the show. I missed the 7:30am Saturday broadcast because I was in Illinois en route to Chicago O’Hare for my return flight to New York. Luckily, thanks to listener contributions, the audio clip is available online. Listen to it. (Yay! Support public radio.) Also, if you like Cityscape, be sure to head over to another one of my favorites, Nora Young’s CBC Spark. For a recent show, Daemon Fairless and I briefly chatted about relationships & texting — or, to use Daemon’s words, “romancing the phone.” Clever, huh? We had great fun! Listen to it.

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Credit paid: Image is by Atilla Kefeli

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Wanna Hear a Good Story?

Oh how I love the toilet-sink-bathtub sandwiches in Manhattan apartments! ;) It doesn’t bother me that everything’s squished together, but I’m not a fan of built-in soap dishes or the thick band of pink shower tile. Because I don’t own, I can’t overhaul it. So, here’s what I did instead. I bought a 100% cotton, thick, white shower curtain to keep the pink tile out of sight. I placed a collection of green and neutral-hued vintage bottles on the sink’s counter to draw your eye away from the soap holders. Yay for color!

Other bathroom items? Toiletries. I have ample storage space. That said, the shelves looked really cluttered until I organized my shampoos, conditioners, soaps and other hair / skin / face goodies. Here’s the BEFORE and AFTER:

So, that’s the bathroom! If you want to know more about individual items in the space, click any of the images above. You’ll be directed to my Flickr which includes notes describing each piece.

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In Pictures: How I Organized My Tiny NYC Bathroom

Shout out and extra special thanks to everyone at Cafe 50 West for being so kind to our crazy group.

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In Pictures: 2009 Halloween Brunch Party

Today, I met up with a friend for mimosas and a deep southern brunch at Bone Lick Park. After, we strolled through quaint tree-lined streets in the West Village, drank freshly brewed coffee at  Roasting Plant, gobbled cupcakes at Sweet Revenge and nibbled on stinky cheeses at Murray’s. I LOVE the Village. I snapped pictures the whole day; you can see them on Twitpic. Actually, since it’s time for another Saturday roundup, this time let’s highlight PICTURES.

The beautiful “Manhattan Sunset” above is from photographer Demetrius González. He’s a pro. I’m not. If you’d like to see amateur snapshots of me in goofing off in NY, I’ve got tons of stuff loaded on my Facebook. A few of you (214 to be exact) sent me friend requests. I also owe a some of you emails. Fret not; you are not being ignored. I see you! Sorry for the delay. I’m only one little brown person, and my “To Do” list fills quickly. I’ll get around to it. (For now, other things like “work on my book” and “follow up with student loan deferment/forbearance status” take priority.) Whether we’re already friends on Facebook or not, you can still see how my camera captured the New Island Festival celebrating Holland on the Hudson. There’s also a video of me speaking Dutch while riding a bicycle in a skirt. On Flickr, there are New York-themed pictures from the Harold & Maude at Bryant Park movie night and one of my trips to the The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  If you want to see my other Empire State images, type “in pictures” (in quotes) in the search box located on the upper right corner of Funky Brown Chick.

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In Pictures: See My Views of New York City

In 1992, I sculpted the object above from a hunk of clay, fired it in a kiln and covered it in tinted glaze. As a little girl, I dreamed of being a writer, dancer, world traveler or painter. However, with age, somewhere along the way I began to believe what everyone around me was saying: “growing up” meant choosing things simply because they’re “practical” (read: financially rewarding). I started the first 5 – 6 years of my career working well-paid, prestigious and safe jobs in international affairs. It felt good to support myself and, if I’m honest, impress others with fancy gigs.

When people asked, “So, what do you do?” I boasted: “I work at the American Embassy.” My verbal back pat probably sounded smug and annoying. But, inside, I felt like I was suffocating by following the crowd, doing what I was supposed to do, and behaving in ways I thought others would deem appropriate or impressive. Long story short: September 11 triggered an internal existential crisis that reminded me life moves pretty fast and you never know when your road will run out. It suddenly seemed kind of stupid to do jobs just because I thought others would like them. I wanted to do stuff I liked.

Everyone is wired the way they are for whatever reasons. Words, art and images inspire me more than money. So, I returned to the U.S. to pursue creative endeavors that yielded far less cash, yet were more emotionally fulfilling and rewarding. But, first, making the switch meant I had to become more comfortable with who I was. One of my favorite Pablo Picasso quotes is: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once [one] grows up.” In 2002 — coincidentally, almost exactly a decade after fashioning the artistic piece above from clay — I came back to the U.S. and eventually moved to New York, finally embarking on my childhood dream of becoming a writer. My company/brand name, FUNKY BROWN CHICK®, reminds me to be true to myself . It’s okay to be funky. I’m comfortable inside my brown skin. I like being a chick.

Harking back to the beginning of this post, my 459 sq. ft apartment isn’t large; I can observe almost everything in it regardless where I’m standing. So, I see the pottery above several times a day. It’s not worth much nor it is the most beautiful piece of art ever made, but it makes me happy. To me, that’s priceless.

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Inside My NYC Apartment: A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words