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.

 

 

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a year in my life, diary, Family, friends, Uncategorized

I Need A Cocktail

Wednesday, 22 February 2017 —

I woke up this morning to knocking at the door.  Should I open it?  No.  I’m in my underwear.  Knocking again, now persistently.  Still not gonna open the door.  Still in underwear.  Chris and I are asleep in the living room.  We fell asleep after horrible fast food last night when we returned from Longmont, Colorado yesterday where I was teaching a product knowledge class for Label.m.  I thought we were going to Denver.  Turns out Longmont is NOT a suburb of Denver, it is much closer to Wyoming.  If we would have driven 90 more minutes, we would have been in Cheyenne.  Chris and I were making jokes about not wearing boots for the occasion.  It was very country. The salon we arrived at was arty, vintage and very modern.  The owner was fabulous!  She told me she had a wife and I instantly felt comfortable around a lesbian.  Gay people stick together, ya know?  They were all so insanely sweet and cool.  My two hour class was more like three hours.  The only items missing were cocktails.  Chris and I fell in love with Longmont on our way back to D-town.  Part of us cringed as we hit Denver City Limits again.  We longed for the country-environment of Longmont.  All we were missing was boots.

This afternoon is a light load at the salon.  I’m looking forward to it.  After that, Chris and I have a men’s group we participate in once a month that meets at the wine bar.  I haven’t had booze in a couple of days.  I am surprised I lasted that long really.  I love a cocktail, as most folks know.  I had champagne on Sunday, but here it will be Wednesday evening… I think it’s time for a little drinky-poo.  Drinking while we talk about deep shit, emotions, self-help shit really takes the edge off the boring philosophical shit.  I love our life coach, but I’m really quite superficial about this shit.  I am the same way with my Kabbalah teacher and Rabbi.  There’s no way I can keep a straight face.  The booze tends to deactivate my eyerolling muscle. It should be an easy day really.  Right now, I’m contemplating a little lunch before I head in.

Last week, I hosted a really cute, intimate wine sipping event.  The sales rep was so sweet.   I think everyone got moderately sloshed and bought something.  I love any event where you eat, drink, drink some more and spend money with folks by invite.  Fact is: I hate random people without even knowing them.  Part of my job as a salon owner is to network and I have a really hard time doing so without a cocktail or a mission statement.  Small talk bothers me.  To me a “hello. How are you?” already drags on like a really shitty nineties boyband song.  Please let it be over, I cry on the inside.  A boozy little party with affluent folks makes the best excuse to entertain.  I only invite people I like to my events.  This event was capped due to space so I had to be VERY selective and I required RSVP.  It makes me look a bit pretentious and dick-y, but really, if anyone thinks I’m being a dick, they don’t truly understand me.  Buy me a drink, don’t kiss my ass and please don’t ask me how I’m doing…. Anyway…  The wine lady will be around to collect the order for full-on order placement today and when she leaves, I’ll proceed to the wine bar for deep shit conversations with Blair and the boys.

Yes, today is a cocktail day. The more the better.  Of course, I should take care of my clients first.

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a year in my life, Dinner, friends, luxelove, Shabbat, spilling tea

Wednesday Afternoon: Booking, Blogging and Binge-drinking.

Wednesday, 19 October 2016 —

Today’s start was much later than planned.  I really was intending to spend some time with my mom at my parent’s house today, but I got stuck being Josh Cooley and texting, emailing and taking phone calls.  I was really preoccupied booking a model for a Facebook Live! broadcast I’m making happen tomorrow. I am really determined to be a known educator at some point in my career.  This Label.m opportunity has lit a fire under my ass to be as good and as fabulous as my friends in New York, Miami and London.  I want a piece of the online action.

I began today by cleaning up the house.  There’s not that much to clean up, but I can’t handle messy beds and dirty dishes.  I think a dirty house produces stagnant energy.  No creative person can flourish in a mess.  I don’t care what Buzzfeed tells you: a mess is counterproductive… especially for type-A folks like me.  I went through my inbox and had an email from a website that wants to syndicate my blog.  I was immediately thrilled! I was perplexed though: do we file it under “voices”, “essay”, “religion”, “lifestyle”, “comedy”, what? The idea of millions of folks reading my work worldwide via the traffic of a larger site makes me shiver with anticipation.  I could use this to my advantage to publish my book later on.

Last week, I took myself on a little solo date night while Chris worked a catering.  I went for a haircut with my favorite stylist ever Elizabeth and then had a cocktail at the wine bar.  Chris had a short stint filling in for the main bartender who is vacationing in Croatia and after a week, the owner tried to argue with Chris about how to make a double.  I’m so bored by arguments like that and I like the wine bar, so Chris being dismissed was a blessing in disguise.  I think it’s unreasonable and close-minded of the owner, but whatever, I don’t own the place.  I’ll spend money there, but I’m annoyed slightly. Nevertheless, I went to dinner at a new Italian place and was thoroughly impressed.  It was just like being in Italy! I went back to the wine bar (not so annoyed, right?) and proceeded to get messy drunk in front of another salon owner in town.  I dismissed my drunk self and fell asleep at home before Chris got home.  My buzz was so good  I was supposedly sleep walking according to Chris.  What a fucking mess! It could have been a really peaceful, alcohol-fueled Shabbat evening, but Malbec and imported Prosecco won that night.

Now, after the emails, the FaceTime meetings and the model booking, I’m sipping wine and getting ready for another Italian dinner with my mom and dad.  Tomorrow’s color ideas are in my head, but I have no commitments.  I’m slightly nervous, but so excited. Miya is going to be my cameraman.   Here’s hoping wine inspires me, not wins like last Friday…

 

 

 

 

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a year in my life, friends, rules for life

Thursday Afternoon: Quiet

Thursday, 15 September 2016 —

Well, it’s Thursday at Rockstars + Lambs and (for once) its very calm today and mostly an office day.  It’s refreshing actually.

I was told a long time ago by someone that when you are given “downtime” from the Universe, its alright to enjoy the break from all your duties that you’ve grown accustomed to or to clean something in detail, take on a new project, work on your self a bit or spend time with folks you haven’t seen in some time.

Every year, right before the High Holy days, is the same: not busy.  In years past I would get really anxious and want to exit stage right or wonder if I was going to stay in business or worry if all my friendships are alright.  Today, in this year of life specifically, I am welcoming whatever silence, quiet or downtime comes my way.

I think a lot of the time we spend so many years, especially our twenties hustling and trying to play with the “big dogs”.  Well, I already did that.  I had a great decade of building my career, talking from ego, biting off more than I can chew and castrating the competition.  At around 29 years old, I no longer wanted that.  I began bowing out, if you will, and it was like 29 was my first “Greatest Hits” anthology.  At 32, I’m having a personal renaissance.  I’m looking  at what worked a decade ago and what didn’t and I see so many funny things and so many things in memories that make me cringe.

I don’t think that at 32 I’m any more or less egotistical, but I do know that I’m not as arrogant.  I wouldn’t even say that I’ve given up the spotlight or the attention because anytime anyone else gets it, a part of me worries that I’ll never get it back whether its business, a public event or personally with friends and clients.  There’s a large portion of me that no longer wants to share the details with people anymore.  I think the people that BELONG in my life will NOTICE those details without me having to utter a single word; this isn’t entitlement, this is letting my work, my actions, my personality speak for themselves.  I have very little desire to put myself out in the publicity machine like I used to.

Recently Miley Cyrus freed herself from having a publicist.  She doesn’t want to walk red carpets anymore and she isn’t interested in feeding the machine known as “fame”.  A lot of people see this, are taking notice and thinking that she’s shooting her career in the foot;  I see an artist maturing and taking control.  One thing Hollywood (especially) does is give and take and charge large income celebrities for services they convince them that they’ll need: you need a stylist to pick out your clothes, you need a hair person that travels with you,  you need a personal chef to package your food for your long day trips to New York, you need four assistants (1 to tweet, 1 to instagram, 1 to answer you emails and 1 to wipe your ass)… Miley is waking up and realizing she doesn’t need all that bullshit. GOOD FOR HER!

When you wake up and realize you don’t NEED IT, but you may WANT IT, you have grown.

I don’t need an assistant anymore, I don’t need a housekeeper anymore, I don’t need to be invited to events.  It’s nice and I like all those things, but I don’t need them in my life.

When life gets busier, maybe I’ll train someone to be an exquisite assistant again, maybe we’ll get so busy Chris and I will need a housekeeping service, I personally pick and choose events I want to attend now: sometimes solo, sometimes with Chris, sometimes with Mom and Dad, sometimes with an entourage.  They’re far and few.  I’ve been there, I’ve done that.  I like dinner parties.  Invite me to those.  I like cocktails at 5:30 or 6:00, invite me a day or two ahead.

I made a prediction that I would take on more Garbo-like tendencies as I got older and I am.  It’s really alright.  I like reading at home and writing and listening to the television in the background.  I love making breakfast and going for walks alone at 6 in the morning.  I like the silence.  I also like being wanted again.  There was a period in my life last year where a lot of people washed their hands of me.  I, in return, after I woke up from the fog of depression, washed my psyche and ego of them.

One of my friends asked me yesterday if we “were good”.  Yes, my dear.  We’re good.  I’m just enjoying the silence right now.  The one thing you have on many of my supposed “friends” though is that you at least asked, accepted my answer and continued on.

We’re good.  If you’re good, we’re good.  If we’re bad, then we move forward or move apart.  Right now, the quiet is my best friend.

 

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a year in my life, controversy, friends, gossip, luxelove, spilling tea

Sunday Evening: How Many F++ks Do I Give?

Sunday, 7 August 2016 —

I have done hair since I was 21 years old.  I am happily celebrating 11 years doing hair very soon.  It’s crazy to think that for a decade I have dedicated my life to a customer-service based industry.  There are so many days when the last thing I want to do is listen to one more fussy person tell what they do and don’t like about their hair; there are also the days when I couldn’t see myself doing anything different.  I originally wanted to go to fashion school and become a Creative Director or Fashion Director for a high-brow magazine.  My love of fashion is not what it once was and I think I would have become increasingly bored by the bulimia and arrogant designers and undermentioned teams that make their names the stars of Bryant Park every September. 11 years in, I can’t imagine working at another salon.  I can’t imagine not calling my own shots and I can truly tell you that 95% of the decisions made professionally for me were made directly by me, no one held my feet to the fire or killed my spirit without my permission.  The 5% of my disconnect in my career is sometimes based on location and fear holding me back.  At 32 years old, I have made the decision when the plane left Denver, Colorado to pursue this Label.m gig and to not hold myself back from achieving greatness.  All of this confidence in that decision has caused multitudes of clients and friends to ask me if I’m leaving Pueblo.  The answer is, “no… not now.”

I met my parents for lunch today at Red Lobster.  I abhor big box restaurants as most people know, but today wasn’t too bad.  The waitress was trying to be funny and I kept thanking her for her personality.  My dad, who is usually Mr. Personality, seemed less than enthused.  My mom had no concern for anything at the table besides listening to my retelling of my air travel from two and half weeks ago.  My goal was to make them laugh and shoo the obnoxious waitress away between crab legs.  The check came, I picked up the tab and all of sudden my dad sat up in excitement, “wow! Thank you! What a treat! That was nice of you.”  I was thinking to myself that the poor waitress didn’t have to perform for us, I would have entertained my own table of mundaneness. $110 later, I thanked her, handed her a $20 and headed back home.  Sometimes my parents need to remember that the service industry is a hard gig, she was only trying to do her job and do it well, a little side smile may have taken the edge off of our service.

I received an email today from a life coach we’ve been seeing once a month and evaluating if I will be seeing him past Rosh Hashanah.  As the year moves into the next and the Jewish New Year is celebrated in October this year, I (like years prior) am taking evaluation of friendships, connections, business partnerships and family matters as the time draws nigh.  Is there a need to see Blair past that point?  Am I done learning what I can from him?  I have learned from the past that where there are questions and doubt, there may be a transition coming.  We meet this week, I’m going to weigh what I’ve learned this past year with him vs what I feel like now.  Is there any further to go or are we rounding up this journey together.  I also have a few friendships that have come to my attention.  I see so many of my interests and theirs changing or even just notice how nosey some have become and how self-serving some of my business connections seem.  All of those can just move on without me, I don’t care to be in a “union” with peeps that think “What’s in it for me?” at the end of the day.  I know we need to worry about ourselves, but there comes a point when its time to let them move on in their own direction before an eyeroll sets in.  I can feel my eyes squinting in hesitation when selected individuals speak to me.  I’m not feeling anyone’s bullshit normally and lately I find myself shaking my head after selected conversations have happened.  I can’t continue to expel energy into multiple connections that don’t worry about my well being or even consider our mutual interests.  I know it sounds deep, but it’s worth looking at, ya know?  I can’t fake my affection.  If it’s not there between me and selected individuals anymore, it’s just not.  Time to move on. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you, it just means I’m not interested in continuing a fake friendship or connection any longer.

There’s a song from Erika Jayne that I keep playing in the car, on my iPod and on Apple Music called “How Many Fucks?” that just went to #1 on the Dance/Club Charts three weeks ago as I touched back down from my Label.m trip.  It seemed almost heralded as I anticipated a new era of business pairings and interests.  This year, I changed my ringtone to “Bitch Better Have My Money” by Rihanna and felt the empowerment of that song.  It’s brash, it’s catty, it’s hard lyrics summon a control that I wanted 2016 to represent.  As Rosh Hashanah approaches, I keep asking how many fucks do I personally give about what people have to think or where this new year will take me.  For once in my life, I am incredibly concerned with me and couldn’t care less who — clients, parents, friends, business connections– thinks I should do this or that.  The canvas is pretty bare at this point in my life, it’s time to add a new color or experiment with style more and pursue more.  Either you’ll follow and stay interested or you’ll stray away.  I’m really not interested in performing as hard as our waitress did today at Red Lobster for attention.

Stay tuned… things should get interesting…

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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.

 

 

 

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a year in my life, controversy, friends, gossip

Sunday Afternoon: Empathy and Acceptance

Sunday, 19 June 2016 — 

I woke up this morning and was in a foul mood.  This whole Orlando thing threw me for a loop last week.  I can’t justify anyone just opening fire on a group of people just because he doesn’t like them or didn’t agree with their lifestyle.  The whole situation made me upset when I thought about it.  The other thing that really pissed me off was seeing friends and clients post anti-Muslim slurs and words on Facebook.  Are you kidding me?  Who are you to say those things and be so nasty?  This man wasn’t representing Islam.  At least, he’s not representing the Islam I know.  Friends of mine that are Muslim are the most compassionate people I know.  This whole “attack the Muslims” mentality is not acceptable to me.  I figure that most of these people are also Trump supporters.  For what its worth, the hatefulness killed my spirit and this has been on my mind all week.  I really lack respect for people that hate others because of their culture, sexuality or religion.  I have lost so much respect this past week and just roll my eyes looking at their shit online.  We should be mourning the loss of human life, not blaming a group of people for it cos of some dumb fucker.  Blame him, not the whole group he has misrepresented!  The media certainly hasn’t helped this.

Yesterday my blog and Facebook Live post made people very happy.  I received so many messages and so much good feedback.  I wish #onlylove would become a Universal hashtag.  By representing #onlylove, I want folks to understand that if you are going to be hateful, there is no room for it in my world.  If you are offering critique, I get it.  Radical online terrorism reigns supreme and I am simply not open to it.  By representing #onlylove, I have ONE intention: acceptance and respect. If someone wants to be hateful and hate a whole group of folks and ask people to support him or her, I simply can’t stand back idle and silent, that person should be talked about and we should reach out to them and tell them it’s not okay behavior.  Out of love for humanity, I am begging the human race to be kind to one another.  Please stop the hate.  There’s no future for us with hateful words and intentions.

Last night Chris and I fell asleep in our air conditioned living room for the second night in a row.  We ate Mexican food and watched Jumpin’ Jack Flash (my favorite movie of all time) and I had a moment of pure wonderment that I hadn’t felt in some time.  We bought a shit ton of used books yesterday and I fell asleep next to the pile on the couch.  The fact that I woke up with so much angst in my heart baffles me.  Maybe I’m more of an empath than I know… or want to accept.

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