a year in my life, comedy, diary, Uncategorized

Half a Cigar

Sunday, 26 March 2017 —

Sunday morning.  2:30am.

I’m sitting here thinking.  Thinking keeps people up late at night.  There’s almost too many thoughts drifting throughout the Universe at night versus the day.  Think about it: day comes, you go to work, have a little brainstorm session and… nothing.  Not one shitty thought comes about except maybe, “What’s for lunch?” or where to have a quick drink after work.  “How many hours left at work?” you may even think.

So here I am, 2:32 am writing and sipping cucumber water.  I’m not really into fruits and vegetables in water.  I’m not trying to be healthy.  I generally have a lemon (literally half a lemon) kerplunked into my glass and Google-search alkalinity and why it’s so important in this acidic world of alcohol, coffee and chocolate I live in (let’s not forget the occasional piece of the most unkosher prosciutto).  When the lemons have gone for the week, maybe I’ll see lime laying around the refrigerator and off that goes into my glass.  Now, I’m out of kerplunkable fruit.  Onward to cucumbers, cucumbers are incredibly alkaline and good for you to sip on if you hate the taste of regular ol’ boring water.  God, water is boring.  It’s so boring it’s expensive boring.  We pay for the bottle, the name and right to drink what makes 3/4 of our world.  It’s so fucking stupid.  It’s like charging for air.  I know we pay big bucks for the filtration of good water and even have special pHs of water available now for unitary tract disorders and overall better organ function, but cucumbers cut into the water make for a quick alkalinity worker.  So, there you have it.  Now… back to 2:32 am…

2:37: Up.  Golden Girls on Hulu and Chris is asleep on the floor of the living room with cushions thrown under him.  My sixties-style mid century reading chair cushions are serving as an informal bed since I have decided going to bed is not in the cards for me.

I slept until 10:00 yesterday morning and met my friend for lunch at 1.  We ate copious amounts of sushi and I drank a couple of bottles of good sake, super cold and talked about kids and home-life (two things I know nothing about and cannot relate to).  After, I came home and decided that today’s day off field trip would include smoking a cigar. I’ve never smoked a cigar before.  I wanted to know what the fuss was about.  Chris came with me.

I walked into the cigar store today and the girl came to the front desk and I said, very nicely in my blazer and Kosher 90210 shirt, “hello there.  I am on an adult field-trip today and would like to see what the fuss is about.  I want to smoke a cigar.  Now, tell me, where do we start?”

She said, “Follow me.”

I followed.  Chris giggled.

We walked into a room that felt like sweaty Florida.  It reminded me of Ft. Lauderdale.  I wanted to book a plane ticket instantly and have some of that Cuban-tinged Crab Bisque I had last summer.  Oh my goodness that soup was delicious!  The room brought me back to the humidity that we so often lack in dry Colorado.  Everyone here looks like cornflakes if they don’t moisturize.  You don’t have to try to be moist in Florida, it just kinda happens.  The room felt like that.  It just kinda happened to be damp.  The air smelt like an old Dominican, maybe even Cuban man.  I made side conversation by telling her, “in 33 years, I’ve never had a proper cigar.”  She just giggled.  Chris was covering his face by now.  My dialog was like a really dressed up Lucy Ricardo.  I was ready for a Tobacco adventure.  I selected a beginner-grade cigar called Romeo y Julieta.  It is a Dominican variety.  I instantly wanted Rum, but Whisky is better.  She cut it, I paid and off we went to smoke behind the building like naughty schoolboys preparing for holiday break.

Chris helped me light it.  I puffed like a boss.  “Don’t inhale this,” he said.  I puffed like a champ instead.

We walked around the corner.  He lit a cigarette, I chewed on the end of the cigar a bit.

“Why do people chew on cigars?”, I asked.

“I don’t know, Bubs.” he said, “they think it brings out flavor.  I think its useless really.”

I stopped chewing on the end and puffed and walked some more.

“What do you want to do now?” Chris asked.

“Oh yeah.  That’s rather nice, isn’t it?” I said puffing away. Mesmerized by the glory of smoky tobacco.

“You enjoying that?”

“Oh yeah, babe.  This is fabulous.  Cheers mate.  A real past time I could get into.” I said.

He giggled some more.

“Let’s go for a little drive.” He said.  And off we went.

The window was rolled down, I was sitting in the passenger seat puffing and looking at the world.  Why do people smoke marijuana when a cigar is better, I thought.  Why do people like stinky cigarettes with dry oregano-style tobacco laced with poison when a rolled tobacco leaf does the trick.  I googled “Tobacco” and read about its many addictive qualities.  It’s a stimulant.  The Spaniards, Portuguese and Italians brought it back to Spain to grow, yada yada.

“Look bubs!  Smoking a cigar is practically my heritage!”

He slapped his forehead.

I googled opening hours for a bar I like.  4pm.  Okie dokie.  I said, “they open at 4pm according to Google.”

“I guess that’s where we’re going…” said Chris.

Onward James! Drive on.

We had a couple drinks.  Literally, a couple.  I’m not much into binge-drinking these days and besides this new grown-up cigar-smoking 33-year-old wasn’t gonna be seen getting sloppy.  I just wanted to enjoy myself with Chris.

We talked about God, the Catholic Church, my fascination with Hinduism and Greek Orthodoxy and how I almost converted to one of the two as an 18 year old rather than being Jewish and talked about Togo-Benin lineage in my ancestry.com results and the practice of Voodoo and the Loa and what pagans don’t understand about African ceremony.  I googled Loa and found that they like cigars and alcohol.

Here I was smoking a cigar, puffing.

Some spiritual folks believe smoking a cigar offers assistance in transporting prayers to God or the Universe.  The smoke serves as a vehicle.  I don’t know about that.  I think you can get the job done with incense, but I guess it’s the same concept.  I smoked my cigar and thought about the Sabbath.  I took this Saturday off to celebrate the Sabbath in my own way.  I guess I did.

On the way home, we stopped at McDonald’s and I ate an ice cream cone.  Chris was laughing at my childlike fascination licking and chewing and slurping and carrying on with this frozen treat.  We pulled up at home and he asked me where the ice cream cone had gone.

It was gone.  I ate it. I grabbed the remainder of my cigar and we went upstairs.  I made a cup of coffee and fell asleep on the couch.

Not such a bad day off.  I did nothing except eat, drink, smoke, walk and talk.  This could be such a decadence seeing as many people are observing lent.  I’m not Catholic anymore (haven’t been since I was a teenager), but I’m aware that today was a bit gluttonous.

Tomorrow we’re back to vegetarianism, healthy water, healthy get-up times and gymming and working and stressing about the week… I still have half a cigar to push me through the week though.

 

 

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, diary, friends, gossip, jry, luxelove, who cares

4:30 am– you bitch!

Thursday, 16 March 2017 — 4:30am

The taxing responsibility of allowing myself days off is something folks find bewildering about me.  I constantly complain about not having enough personal time and drown my sorrows in a good whisky or some vodka, maybe even a decent glass of cabernet sauvignon, but come days off, I rarely drink.  I just don’t care to be torn up on my days off. After a long day of clients, hearing their stories, talking about their brats and their over-pretentious depression about their latest look (bob or lob?), I am brain-fucked, to say the least.

It has been 14 days since my last day off.  I was last off on March 1st.  The rest of the 14 days of this month have been laced in appointments, meetings, education, sales meetings, more education, conference calls, going back to gym, drinking countless cocktails, nearly losing my fucking mind around the sixth and culminated in today: up at 8:30, banking to be done at 9, ship FedEx back to my Education Director by 9:30 for possible delivery tomorrow (FedEx said no after three phone calls to change delivery so now she’ll get it on Friday. FML), nail appointment, meet dishwasher repairman, meet landlord, find out diagnosis for old dishwasher with old dishwater still not drained on bottom, find out that I need a new one around 2:3opm.

3:00pm yesterday, Chris came home, I was answering messages and browsing Orbitz for tickets back to Plano, TX.  while I caught up on The Housewives of Beverly Hills.  

“Care to join me for lunch at Angelo’s, bubs?”

“Sure.”

It wasn’t convincing enough.

“I’m gonna go eat after I finish watching these bitches.” I said playfully.

He went to the toilet. (My reaction exactly)

3:06 we were on our way for pizza, drinks, eggplant parm, more drinks and talking about a lady wearing 1980s shorts and sipping another round of drinks.  After three cocktails, we met our friend out for another one.  Shortly after, we came home.  I set the timer for one hour.  I was determined to have a nightcap.

I don’t drink on a day off because it could easily turn into a holiday.

We went to J.Michael’s and had a beer.  Two gay men drinking beer just looks odd.  It doesn’t fit the stereotype.  I know in 2017, we’re not supposed to be happy with stereotypes, but sometimes I am!  I like being bitchy, I like holding a martini glass, I like camping it up and acting as though we’re in a British comedy.  I try to embody an episode of Absolutely Fabulous and I sip spirits and spew venom about dumb bitches I detest on Instagram and talk shit about porny-pictures of hungry bottoms waiting for a their latest sexual romp on Tumblr.  I enjoy that!  Call it a stereotype!  I like it!  I like being a bitchy gay man.  So please understand, beer just isn’t the picture I’m used to taking of myself as I pub-crawl across the City of Pueblo with my bubs.

9:04: Beers drunk.  Josh and Chris head back home to eat copious amounts of candy and play Grand Theft Auto like two young closeted gay teens before turning in like old gays with old saggy balls at 10:30pm.

Now, it’s 4:30 am and I’m up.

Yesterday I accomplished so much, I even booked my flight for Plano and scored a killer deal on a killer room at NYLO, a boutique loft-style hotel… I did, however, forget to bathe.

My apologies to anyone I hugged yesterday.

 

 

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, diary, living well, rules for life

My sweet, dear Jennifer Saunders

Sunday, 12 March 2017 —

Have you ever read a book so good that you didn’t want to put it down?

Has the book ever been so good that you didn’t want to finish it because it would all be over?

That is the conundrum I am finding myself in.  I am approaching the end of reading Jennifer Saunders’ book, “Bonkers: My Life in Laughs”.  It’s all about her life as she approaches becoming a comedy legend at the BBC.  Her pairing with comedy partner Dawn French, her marriage to Ade (also another comedian).  They have a relatively normal life.  She loves fashion, but never gets free clothes, she buys all her own clothes and spends loads of money looking good “in her head” only to find that the mirror says different.  She is one of my favorite comedy writers.  Her show “Absolutely Fabulous” just kills me.  Her sketches with Dawn French are hilarious.  He humbleness is eye-opening.

There is NOT one pretentious bone in Jennifer’s body.  She doesn’t dwell on dumb shit like not having a series renewed or even getting breast cancer.  She knows she’s a procrastinator.  She knows she doesn’t like deadlines.  She has a healthy amount of celebrity gossip without being a witch to work with or being overly scandalous.  I find that she is really pretty grateful for her life and the direction it has taken.  She definitely has lived her life as a writer would.  She has acquired some wealth from it and has inspired countless other female comedians, British actors and actresses.  She uses the term “Actress” very loosely.  She knows she’s a writer.

Something I have been taking note of is how insanely normal she is.  She forgets that she’s famous.  She doesn’t live in a “famous” mentality.  She appreciates it, but doesn’t dwell in the ego of it.

19 Chapters and I’m on Chapter 18 already holding back moans and groans from reading the ending of the book.  I want more! Her work speaks for itself.  She was put up to a dare to write the “Absolutely Fabulous” movie that was released last year in theaters and the same for her book that came out a couple of years prior.  She is a horrible procrastinator, but a very brilliant worker when she wants to be.  She makes jokes about throwing unopened bank statements away and her husband panicking, opening them, and taking care of business.

She does not read the fine print of contracts.  She asks Maureen her agent/manager to take care of the reading and has very small requests like a bottle of wine for after comedy performances and passes to get into the BBC, but overall she’s not picky.

I have lived so much of my wonderful career as a salon educator, salon owner, sought-after talent as a writer, comedian, performer, host and freelance colorist in both areas of ego and humility.  I don’t think I’m the best everywhere I go, but I know I’m good at what I do.  I don’t like confrontation, but I will pipe up when I feel tested.  I do makes requests and I do ask and even demand for timeliness and ample time for planning.

I don’t transition well from work to home or work to an event or an event to home or presentation to car ride.  I need a lot of time to think.  I need a cocktail to think over.  I need someone to drive me everywhere because my anxiety gets the best of me on long-distance trips.  I wake up and meditate daily, I pray, I read The Zohar and the Torah and require a light breakfast after.  I book three clients back-to-back and shut my book down for an hour to transition.  I don’t transition well.  I need space.  I need alone time.  Jennifer reminds me of someone like me that needs a lot time to think.

We think differently than most people, we might lay on the floor and look at the cracks in the floor boards or listen to records or eat copious amounts of French Brie and drink wine right out of the bottle, but thinking gets done.  I abhor formality in meetings and I hate formal talk.  I think we should all just be ourselves.  I do, however, detest dirty words in a business meeting and I don’t like salacious gossip (no matter who you ask).  I don’t like hearing reviews, I don’t like sitting with people in large groups unless I’m the star of the show and I expect the same respect when I ask to have a cocktail alone.

There’s alot of thoughts that have run through my head as I’ve been reading Jennifer’s book.  I can see why AbFab was a worldwide success!  I can understand the admiration she has from others as they gaze at her accomplishments and I can understand why she has chosen to be funny even when life wasn’t so funny.

The main thing I’ve learned from her is that life is funny.  Even death and illness is funny. She does not “believe in God” she hints at in the book.  I do.  I am a bit more Universalist though when we talk about The Creator.  I don’t think God is sitting on his iPad watching us on some heavenly Hulu marking our permanent records, counting our dirty words, our eye rolls at people and taking note of how many times we skipped church or lied to a client.  I just don’t think those items are so BIG AND IMPORTANT that God will be a meany and send you straight to hell.  I don’t think Jennifer is an atheist.  I think she believes the Creator has blessed her and she is simply living life as an entertainer.

I think one of the best lessons I’m learning from reading this book that I want to share with you is to NOT sweat the small stuff.  You’ll be alright.  Pull the stick out of your ass and laugh at life when it takes a shit on you.  You’ll be alright.  You’ll be absolutely fabulous at everything you do… just like my sweet, dear Jennifer Saunders.

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, diary, etiquette, gossip

Sunday Afternoon: Was That Today?

Sunday, 21 August 2016 —

My birthday party is in one week!  Part of me is very excited and part of me is wondering about the logistics of it all.  I have had so many messages today and the last couple of days about people saying they can’t make it today (21st)… My party is not until the 28th.  Are you anxious to NOT MAKE it?  Come on.  Try again.  The fact that folks can’t keep the dates straight slightly annoy me.  How do you function in life?  Are you so busy that you’ve forgotten the days of the week? The months? The year? Maybe I expect too much.

Chris and I had a function today that we still haven’t decided if we’re playing hooky to or not.  He’s putting in new extensions and I’m blogging.  If we ARE going, we’re two hours late.  My guess is that we’ll make an appearance for five minutes, make fun of people and get back in the car and continue with our day.  I don’t really have anyone I would want to see at this particular event nor do I want to waste energy or make-up on the event.  How sad do I sound?

Maybe I’ll forget the day on the calendar like so many others.

“Oh was that today?”

Yeah.  That’ll work.

 

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, etiquette, Family, friends, luxelove, spilling tea, sunday

Sunday Night: Friends, Comedy and a Larger Market

Sunday, 3 July 2016 —

I felt rather emotional today as I looked at my phone to see messages from a couple of my friends.  Its very funny how friendships mold into family units of themselves.  In my thirties, I have realized that friendships DO become tight like the girls on Golden Girls, the people on Friends or the slutty women on Sex and the City and we live and work and breathe and shit and tell each other about living, working, breathing and shitting.  It’s all very fun til one of us breaks up or gets divorced or gets cancer or falls off the deep end emotionally.  Today, my brain got the best of me and I had my moment of tears and happiness and grand resolve about many internal battles in my own personal life.  I feel like sometimes we ALL mirror each other and it gives us a chance to look at our own lives, but people like me tend to overthink and overanalyze.  Boo to that! I love my friends and want everyone to be calm and happy and have tea parties in nature and dress in angelic white satin well-fitted Armani shirts and countdown the moments when we see rainbows every time we blow a fart, but until then, real life reels me in and bitch slaps me from time to time.  Today, Sunday, was one of those days.

I went to lunch with Chris today at Rosario’s and enjoyed a salad and some spaghetti.  We had the trainee waiter today and generally I don’t complain about the staff there, but this one was just a yutz.  I hope he learns how to relax.  Chris caught the hostess kissing her boyfriend the busboy and that ruined his Cosmopolitan.  After a couple of glasses of wine and listening to some morbidly obese people whine about the service, we got our ticket and went off to the grocery store and laughed and poked fun at people.  Maybe this world is perfect and only Chris and I are the bitches critiquing it to pieces!  Who knows! Maybe they talk about us.  That’s okay.  I hope they all laugh as hard as we do.

This past week has been rather social for Chris and me.  We’ve been to Andy Mac’s a couple of times with two different girlfriends.  Both of them drink beer and have mouths like sailors.  I love it!  When I went up to the bar for another round, a gentlemen stopped me and asked me why we haven’t had any comedy at Andy Mac’s lately.  I said, “Ask Levi”.  Levi replied, “I’ve tried.  Believe me.”  There’s some conflict with ownership or business partners or something, but it seems as though my favorite venue has no intention of having comedy shows there.  I’m rather bummed and do not want to go back in the local open mic scene.  I’m sorry, but I’m too good for this open mic scene.  I feel like I need a one hour show of my own or a one-man show or something.  I’m not about to ask to be an opener for one of these half-wits locally and I refuse to be non-paid or slipped a $20 like some jughead that writes all day in my mom’s basement, smokes weed and jacks off for entertainment and then talks about those things on a mic expecting laughs.  I’m not the typical Pueblo, male comedian.  That’s all they talk about.  They bash women and gay men and try their damnedest to keep both of those groups down.  It’s nonsense really.  I remember when they all were chum-chummy with Wade when he was here and didn’t utter a word to me.  Things have not changed.  Sadly, my wingman is no longer here.  I can’t book a gig, can’t get a phone call back, can’t depend on people to reply to messages or admit I have honest, amazing talent.  These folks are officially the meanest sons-a-bitches I’ve worked with or associated with.  I don’t want to support their shows or call them colleagues.  They’re a bunch of non-society wannabe bros that think a 40 buck gig is “MAKING IT”.  No, I won’t be subpar, I won’t be a Pueblo comedian.  I won’t be part of this nasty, bottom feeding, joke-stealing prejudice little group.

I had a talk today about insulting conduct and internet etiquette and for a split second thought about opening a Snapchat account.  I don’t know what was pulsing through my body today except that I have been incredibly numb this year when it comes to the internet. I have a friend that is separated from her other half and he has deleted and unfollowed all of my social media, but he is still following Chris.  I wasn’t angry about it, but I thought to myself, “when did I ever stop being his friend?”  I told Chris, “I’m just a connection he doesn’t want to have right now”.  It’s all very weird.  Do I text him and ask him how he’s doing?  Do I dare get nosey and see if he’s okay?  Would this make my friend upset? What do we do?  What do I do? I miss the social etiquette of writing letters and receiving phone calls. I don’t think sending flowers is appropriate for this situation?  What should my little Barefoot Contessa/Martha Stewart heart do?

This past two weeks has been busy in the salon, my head is wrapped around leaving for Florida.  My friends mean so much to me and I want the best for all of them.  Today, I was talking to Chris about accepting blessings and being thankful and I told him I was thankful for him and believed in him.  I am thankful for my friends, their spouses (or soon to be exes) and respect them all.  This world is too chaotic to be worried about little stuff like comedy gigs.  I’m off to a new gig with an international company.  No 40 buck gigs for me, no sulking, no wondering why I can’t get a call back for a local comedy booking.  I’m moving on into the future with my friends, my bubs and my family.  Label.m here I come, Rockstars and Lambs in tow, a slew of new Facebook Live videos, blogs and focusing on my talents in an international/larger market.

 

 

 

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, controversy, diary, don't be rude, Family, friends, gossip, jry, living well, luxelove, rules for life, spilling tea, who cares

Wednesday Morning: 11 Things I’m Tired Of

Wednesday, 8 June 2016 —

It’s 3:44 am as I type this.  I have layed in bed for the past 90 minutes pondering life, thinking about my business, thinking about finances, thinking about my home, thinking about my family, my friends, work associates, friends I don’t talk to anymore, clients, clients that have become friends, the general public, the political shit show the United States is seeing happen in front of their eyes, my parents, everything.  I am awake with a constant disdain in my thoughts and an eye roll so fierce I could do back flips.

I have come to one conclusion for all of this angst: I’m tired.

Bare with me as we all go through these moments in time and I list them all off.  I have only been at this point a few times and let me tell you, I either blow up at people or I just stop talking and start changing things and people feel left out.  We all feel this way from time to time and I feel this is the most honest by putting it in words for the world to see.  Maybe you’ll agree with me here, maybe some of you will be upset by this.  Frankly, my loves, I don’t care one way or the other.  If you agree, we have some solidarity.  If any of this upsets you as a reader, we either have a lot to talk about or you’re doing something wrong on this list.

I’m tired of the following…

  1. I’m tired of people being late for shit.  Hair appointments, business meetings, dinner plans, all of it.  Please get a watch or pay attention already.  In the age of the smart phone, you have no excuse to be late.  Get your shit together, please.  
  2. I’m tired of people lying.  If you don’t like something I have to say, tell me.  Don’t tell me everything is alright and then talk behind my back and act like things are alright when you see me face-to-face.  Tell the truth! Did I upset you?
  3. I’m tired of people not being honest about their feelings.  Please stop sugar coating and spit it out already!  Are you pissed, grumpy, sad, hurt? WHAT! You’re going to gain more friends being honest than hiding your feelings.
  4. I’m tired of people being rude and making side comments.  The most passive aggressive sons-a-bitches make side comments and try to play them off as jokes.  If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut the fuck up, smile and move on.
  5. I’m tired of people complaining about money.  Get a second job, drink at home, don’t drink at all, take up a hobby that reoccupies your time, deep clean your house or work space, but please shut up.  It all comes down to budgeting and knowing if you are bringing enough money in to support your “habit” called life.  Stop bitching, start earning.
  6. I’m tired of nosey people.  No, I will not share with you the intimate details of my relationship, how much I spent on booze or haircolor last year and why I don’t want to have children.  Stop asking those questions.  While we’re at it…
  7. I’m tired of people sticking their nose in my relationship.  From Day #1, people have doubted me and Chris.  They tell me that they think he’s cute and they’re so happy for me, but as soon as I talk about a disagreement we had or a bad day, they all want me to throw him to the wolves.  Come on!  You are a bunch of wimps.  Remember when relationships mattered?  Do you remember that relationships are work?  It is! Believe me! I KNOW!!  It’s always sunnier on the other side isn’t?  Just toss people away like we toss away a perfectly good laptop or iPhone these days (NOT!).  People are NOT upgrades and you cannot keep thinking that you can just turn them in for a new model.  Stop asking me about how my home life works.  It works perfect when people get their goddamned nose out of my business!
  8. I’m tired of people getting offended by every fucking thing.  I like dark, sad, cynical humor.  Sometimes its not politically-correct.  Some of it is race-oriented or gay-centric or sexual.  If you don’t like it, frankly, you’re thinking too hard.  Pull the stick out of your ass and learn to laugh.
  9. I’m tired of people not returning their messages.  If I’m calling, texting or emailing that means I’m reaching out to you for something. You’re on Facebook and Instagram all fucking day (I see your posts and check-ins), how about you shut down your apps for ten minutes and return your messages?
  10. I’m tired of your gym selfies.  Good for you, you made a healthy choice.  I don’t care if you do CrossFit.  Let me share something with you: the people you work out with are NOT your family and they do not root for you to be nice, they do it “in the moment”.  They go home and closet-eat Oreos and McDonald’s like you and call it a “cheat day” and make fun of your work out shoes and problem areas.  Stop.  Just stop this madness.  No one cares.
  11. I’m tired of standing up for myself and my choices.  I am me.  This is me. I act this way, I talk this way, I am Josh Cooley.  I never tried harder in my life to be anything more than who I present.  If you think I’m rude, whatever.  Get over it.  If you think I’m funny, thanks.  I think I’m funny too.  If you think I’m too opinionated, maybe its time for you to open your mind and let some honest feedback saturate your brain.  Most people that have high opinions of others are generally jealous, envious or lonely.  Don’t make my demeanor or evaluating my psyche your past time.

Yes, friends.  I’m tired.  It’s 4:04 am.  I’m drinking coffee and looking at everything that needs to get done today.  There’s a lot to do, but first, I’m gonna relax, read a book and re-read my list of things I’m tired of.  In all, I think most people are fabulous and I love talking to folks when I see them out and getting feedback about my blog, Facebook page, salon, public doings, all that shit, but lately, I feel like people have just lost their damn minds.  If  I could put 60% of my daily contacts over my lap and spank them right now I would.

Get up. Get ready.  Put a smile on your face.  Be prepared to take on the world.  Speak honestly. Be polite.  Don’t bullshit people.  Don’t be lazy.  Get off your phones.  Look at people when they are talking to you.  Be patient.  Be kind.  Remember that NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU and finally — be you.

 

Standard
a year in my life, comedy, diary, friends, luxelove, sunday

Sunday Afternoon: Nosh with Josh

Sunday, 22 May 2016 —

I started cleaning the house this morning about 9:45.  I woke up and saw the sunlight filling my bedroom like an auditorium during a concert and decided that any time close to 10am was late enough to sleep in.  Chris looks exhausted.  His allergies are killing him. I feel so bad for him.  I have always found that drinking coffee and sometimes taking allergy medicine works, but not always.  I jump in the shower and let the steam open my lungs and just enjoy the detoxing feeling of steam.  Sometimes when I’m really congested, I drink turmeric milk.  There’s an old Middle Eastern recipe I always follow.  The turmeric decreases inflamation and acts like an antihistamine. Maybe I should make Chris was turmeric milk.  Poor bubs.  I let him rest and went on washing dishes and vacuuming.  I know that last thing I want to do when I feel lousy is do house work.

Last night, Chris and I went to the opening of Lisa’s new play Women on Fire.  We had a blast!  The play is all monologues.  Poor Chris didn’t understand what was going on at first.  “Who the fuck are they talking to?” I could see written all over his face.  “They’re monologues, bubs.” I whispered.   He just stared at the stage for the first three performances and I think when lady #3 came out, he got it.  He started engaging.  Maybe the first two just weren’t engaging! Lisa came out for act 1 and act 2 and made me cry.  She’s such a powerful actress.  There was one lady, however, that played an advertising exec.  She talked about champagne and said “fuck” and “shit” a lot and made jokes and references to random sex, clubbing and why it feels shitty to make money.  I swear, four people came up to me and said, “that’s all shit you’d say, Josh!”

Yes it fucking was, assholes! 

I found the whole monologue so funny.  I told the actress afterward and she just stared at me.  She looked bothered.  We left shortly after.  I had no interest to kiss ass to the cast.  I said, “thank you” and “great job” and Lisa, B, Chris and I went off to The Shamrock for drinks and a little Nosh with Josh.

We got to The Shamrock and the place looked kind of quiet for a Saturday night.  I tell you: only 9:40 pm in Pueblo can look like that.  Anywhere else? Nope.  It’s Saturday night friends!  Get with it!  The server sat us in the middle of the dining room.  Hi, awkward! In true Josh and Lisa style, we just drank and ate shrimp and artichoke dip and talked about what it’s like to be writers and performers.  We talked about gender-neutral bathrooms, Damentia Madrilliano doing some comedy and Lisa and I possibly doing a web series with Chris in the fall.  It was all very fun.  No one got drunk, no one slurred, no one had purple teeth from drinking too much wine like most other times we hang out.  It was very nice actually.  This intimacy of friendship is the kind of friendship I find fulfilling.  I remember meeting Tabatha Coffey years ago and they took her to The Shamrock after her lecture and it was very much so the same vibe.  It was a coolness and relaxation around people I haven’t felt in some time.

This afternoon, I spent about an hour on Facebook messaging and interacting with everyone.  It felt nice to have casual conversation like the early days of social media.  I had a  few text conversations going on at the same time on my Blackberry with a couple of client-friends and Levi from Andy Mac’s and Lisa.  Looks like I’m hosting comedy in June sometime.  The real work comes tomorrow booking talent and designing a digital poster this week.  I’m enlisting some hand-selected talent that I still need to contact to support this venture.  Comedy without Wade has not been the same, ya know?  I can’t sit and wallow though.  I just have to make it happen. So here it goes…

 

Standard