Wednesday, 13 April 2016 — 12:02 am
Today was an incredibly productive day in the salon. I did not have a terribly early start to my day, but I kind of enjoy that these days. Last week was a beast! It had to have been one of the highest grossing weeks of the year. Cool part was I only worked five days (not six as usual). There’s something to be said about condensing my schedule for the sake of rest. Perhaps, oh just perhaps, that should happen more often. It seems like my productivity was higher because of the additional rest. Am I on to something here?
I had the day off Saturday and did not have any confirmation of any events that had been mentioned to me so Chris and I went to see our friends Lisa and Brendan. They made steaks, we made sides and brought the booze. We boozed it up, danced and sang to records and smoked cigarettes until nearly four in the morning. Chris showed off his new Fiat and we discussed music, life and adventures of being young and not giving many fucks. It was really wonderful. At some point in the evening I slipped into a faux Euroboi accent. Chris called me out and told me, “I’ve never heard this accent… this one here… now.. that you are speaking with.” I giggled, but was slightly butt hurt. I went upstairs and poured another whisky and threw on a Madonna 12″ mix of “Vogue” and we began dancing and acting out the music video. To be 30-something and living this moment in the living room was fabulous! Lisa and I always have a fabulous time. Part of me never wants to grow up ever. The other part of my being clocks in and out too many times a day. Don’t you wish you could just live in Never Never Land mostly and make enough money to just fuck off the remainder of the time people don’t need you? I really only want to be needed when they need me to pantomime my best Immaculate Collection (Madonna, 1990 Compilation album).
Tonight I watched the season finale of The Housewives of Beverly Hills. I looked at all the castmates Twitter accounts to see who was talking shit about who. When it came down to looking at Kyle Richards’ account, a screen popped up that said, “you are blocked from seeing Kyle Richards’ tweets.”
This was not shocking to me. I said she was bad friend to Lisa Vanderpump a couple of seasons ago and told her she should check her sister into rehab. She blocked me. Kudos to me for staying relevant in the world of reality TV. Sadly, the genre, Twitter and my days of internet notoriety are coming to an end. I showed Chris the screen and he laughed. I’m much better at lip-syncing to Madonna than being nice to Kyle Richards on Twitter, I guess.
For shits and giggles, I looked up a local business owner on Instagram and Twitter and saw that I am STILL blocked from her accounts as well. It’s very funny to me. I wrote a blog about this person and she didn’t tell me there was an issue, she told my friend and my housekeeper. The whole situation made our relationships sticky for a while. I fired my housekeeper for running her mouth and gossiping and I doubted my friendship for a short period because of this person. Blocking me only reaffirms to me that this person is a salty personality and a social climber that uses popular people in the community to get ahead. Well, whatever. Word is that she called ahead at a recent fundraising dinner to see if we had assigned seating because she didn’t want to sit near me (she obviously found out I was attending). Get a grip people. Really. Be a friend, not a user, it takes a lot less effort.
I stumbled upon a few things this past weekend regarding me. I decided to Google myself. The salon still scores very high, I still get good web traffic and then there are those few blogs and people that LOVE to hint at scandalous things regarding me and my behavior or the blog itself. One guy used to be my sister’s friend. He sure has a LARGE amount of opinions about me, gay people and social etiquette. I think he should keep his eyes on his own paper since he thinks we’re both in third grade. I have a lot to say about him and his organization he would come unglued about.
This little weekend binge of social media showed me why I need to pull away: inquiring minds like mine want to find dirt. Sadly, I found dirt on myself. If I could paint a picture, it would be of me holding a shovel and digging up a grave site. The stuff people have to say really has to be scavenged. The only positive reassurance I got out of this internet digging was that my initial feelings about all these salty individuals was my intuition waving a red flag. I know a rat when I smell one, or two,
or however many hide behind a screen.
Back to Madonna….