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, gossip, jry, who cares

Hot Mess in 2017

Monday, 2 January 2017 —

This morning was a fresh start to a stupid new year.  I have declared this holiday season the “perpetual holiday”.  Christmas Eve was a Saturday, Christmas was a Sunday, so of course, you had Monday off.  New Year’s Eve was a Saturday, New Year’s Day was a Sunday, so, again, you had Monday off.  How many fucking holidays do you need and how much time to you people need off, really?  I was looking so forward to coming to work today.  I am ready for this fresh, new start.  I frankly am tired of people bitching about 2016.  I thought it was alright.  Yeah, Donald Trump won the election.  I have no thoughts regarding Donald anymore.  I’m frankly tired of people talking shit about Donny.  I think Melania is too.  It seems that we’ve moved onto talking shit about Mariah now.  How dare you! I adore her.  I adore Madonna.  I adore Cher like any gay man, I guess. Donald is fair game most days, but I feel like we should give him a day off now.  I’m not saying I like the guy, but he is going to be the next president of the United States, so listen up, speak up when needed and pray for him.  Lord knows he needs all the prayers he can get…right now so does Mariah…

I got home a little after 4pm today.  I know people are going to read this or my Twitter or Instagram feed and know that I didn’t take any cancellations or later appointments.  I couldn’t care less.  I have declared 2017 the year I don’t give a fuck.  I don’t care, really.  I hope I lose friends this year.  I hope I make people mad.  I hope people get angry talking to me and storm off. I hope I give people cramps holding back shit they wanna spill to me.  I hope I get nasty emails… I’ll screen cap ’em.  I hope you send me nasty messages… I’ll screen cap those too.  I hope people get riled up this year reading blogs, tweets, and “insta”s.  I pray that this year is the year I take my verbal power back.  I am so tired of living in a calm slump.

All the Mariah-talk yesterday and today in the New York Times and other news outlets makes me sad for her.  Chances are SHE was running late and didn’t have a soundcheck with the guys from Dick Clark Productions.  Sad for her, entertainment for nasty bloggers.  Mariah and I mirror each other.  Folks love to blog about us.  They love to talk shit.  Guess what? If they’re talking shit, it means they’r still talking.  I wouldn’t shed a tear if I were her.  I’d call it a day, hug my babies and be shameless in my tweets.  Who fucking cares!

Frankly, who cares about whatever happens in 2017.  Donald is president, Mariah is a train wreck and I’m on a mission to raise hell this year.  Go get in line and buy your helmets now because there’s gonna be some debris and shrapnel this year.  Things are gonna get very interesting, I promise.  Frankly, 2017 could be kinda fun cos God knows the last two years have been snoozers.  Time to wake the fuck up and set some shit on fire.

Thanks Donald and MC, you made it alright to be a hot mess in 2017.

 

Standard
a year in my life, controversy, diary, don't be rude, etiquette, gossip, living well, politics, rules for life, spilling tea, sunday, Uncategorized

Sunday Morning: #TrumpPence vs “Hamilton”

Sunday, 20 November 2016 —

This morning on Twitter and Facebook has seriously got my knickers in a twist.  I can’t possibly read anymore about the shit-show named #TrumpPence16.  These two vile human beings are two of the biggest fucking crybabies I have ever ever EVER read press about.  By now, it’s no secret that the cast of “Hamilton” addressed Mr. Pence while he was visiting the theatre with their public service announcement asking for Mr. Pence to respect our American diversity and values.  I get it.  I think its worth addressing both president- and vice president-elect.  I think it could have been different.  I think they could have shot a really neat YouTube or Vimeo video and had it edited and addressed as a sweet virtual “love note” all over social media.  Pointing at him and asking him to listen in front of the audience puts him on the spot.  He felt attacked.  Boo-hoo.  

Hours later, Mr. Trump tweets for the Hamilton cast to “Apologize!”.  The use of an exclamation mark reads as raising your voice, yelling or excited.  I’ll take all three in this case.  WE are not in a board room, Mr. Trump.  These are the American people voicing their concern to your vice-president elect Mr. Pence that believes electroshock therapy and praying the gay away works. These are concerned, diverse people who perform for other concerned, diverse people in the United State of America.  You are scaring the diversity into each corner by demanding an apology.

I personally believe Mr. Pence called Donald, texted, Snapped, Insta’ed that he was picked on publicly and it lit a fire under Sugar Papa Trump’s ass after he just settled a $25 Million Dollar lawsuit in regards to Trump University two days earlier.  Donald is tired of being picked on by all of America and SNL.  His VP is not being taken seriously either and we keep tweeting, screaming, signing petitions in an effort for you to listen.  You issue a tweet that is insistent and Mr. Pence goes on TV and says he was “not offended”, but you, have Mr. Pence’s back saying he deserves an apology.

I don’t know anymore.  I think I’m going bat-shit crazy reading this shit.

To the cast of Hamilton: make a YouTube video, edit it well, say what you want to say and post it on ALL SOCIAL MEDIA as a love note to the -Elects of #TrumpPence.  Do it gracefully, not embarrassingly.

To Mr. Pence: you’re not offended, right?  But Donald is.  So, did you tell Donald one thing and us another? Go pray your chicken shit ways away.

To Mr. Trump: We will take you seriously when you STOP exploding on Twitter.  You are a President-Elect, act like it.  Show us brilliance, show us diplomacy, show us compassion, show us a leader. You need to lead, not react like someone whose best friend just got yelled at in a bar fight.  Please grow up.  You’re 70. We need you to be a 70 year old, wise man that is the leader of a country that honors freedom of speech.  Please shut down your Twitter.  We are NOT taking you seriously.

As I continue scrolling through Facebook, I am continuously appalled with people that think Liberals are causing this hate in the nation.  I don’t have a group to blame.  Republicans are not to blame, liberals are not to blame.  This shit show is to blame.  When you live in a country where the new president-elect and VP-elect act like they have hurt feeling EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY, the nation will reflect it.

Everyone needs to grow up.  

Learn to say please.  Learn to say thank you.  Be gracious.  Be kind.  Do not tweet when angry or drunk.  Do not point and address in a large crowd to someone who is one of the most-hated men in America right now.  Do not insight riots.  Do not act like a pussy.  Do not grab pussies.  Do not act like martyrs. This is all common sense shit, folks.

Act like leaders. Be examples of leaders.  Stop feeding the shit-show called The United States -Elects #TrumpPence.  We don’t look any smarter to the world at this moment in time.

That is all.

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, 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…

Standard
a year in my life, controversy, diary, gossip

Real Tea, Real Me 6/20

Monday, 20 June 2016 

Time: 12:38 AM

Soundtrack in the background: Madonna’s Confessions on a Dancefloor album 

Beverage in hand: Dasani Sparkling Lime Sparkling Water 

I wanted to take a moment away from the normal format of LuxeLove by JRy and add to the “supplement” blog series, if you will, about what I’m REALLY working on AND thinking. I don’t want to write about stories of my life, spirituality, or any of the other fun stuff I usually create a story for. There are things that I love to talk about in my blog and I love to keep the ball rolling in a storyteller style. At some point, one grows tired of that. Real Tea, Real Me is just a nice way of saying “let me cut the bullshit and the editing, here’s what I’m REALLY thinking about.” So…. here it goes.

Father’s Day

“I didn’t do anything for Father’s Day.  My mom actually took the day to treat my dad to a really amazing dinner out of town.  She let me know last week that they were heading out for the weekend.  It’s been a bit of a shake up and life change for them this past year with Chris and I living together, Adrian moving out and living with her boyfriend and they are taking on life as a couple of empty nesters! Believe me, I hear it from other people and in passive comments from time to time that ‘everyone is out doing THEIR own thing’.  Yes I am.  Thank you for noticing! I want to take my dad out to eat and catch up with him.  I took my mom out the day after Mother’s Day, maybe this day-after stuff will be the new tradition I start.”

#onlylove

“In an attempt to wake up the world and add to the wonderful chaos of social media, I’m putting myself to the test and starting the hashtag #onlylove for a movement of love and respect of all human kind.  I’ve used this hashtag many times for many months on Instagram, but in the wake of the tragedy that occured in Orlando and the increasing Anti-Muslim propaganda I’m seeing on the internet, I think it’s now that we all band together and start respecting each other and expressing #onlylove.  The world is in a crucial moment in history where I truly believe that we could blow each other up and cease to exist.  Some would call this a sign of the “end times” or Armageddon Pre-Op, I would call this a lack of human compassion.  When you disrepect someone or another group of people, you bounce that karma right back to yourself and your life and your loved ones, your business, you health, your home and everything you touch.  We need to focus on love and less on hate and less on disrespecting others.  This hatred has to stop or we’re in for it.  No one can blame the Creator or Satan for this.  It’s us.  We’re all a bunch of vicious animals acting like savages.  It’s scary out there.  I’m ready to bunker myself in my home and give up on being social with this madness, but that would be fear expressed.  I can’t allow that.  #onlylove from now on friends.”

Best of Pueblo nominations

“As I prepare for my trip to Florida in July for Label.m and come back to host a huge event a week later, I know the announcement for nominations being taken by The Pueblo Chieftain for Best of Pueblo are nigh.  Last year, I wrote an expose blog about the unfairness of the system and the rumors told to me by ad reps at The Chieftain.  The more ads you pay for, the more likely you are to be nominated and win.  Rumors are that the salon category has automatically been rigged and last year I received a ton of hate mail and personal messages from ‘the accused’ mother of being a bad egg.  She said I don’t represent Pueblo very well.  Really, bitch?  Wanna see my resume? Her message was that of a hurt mother, I get that, but her baby is grown up and should know better and practice better business ethics.  Moreso, if there really is rigging and buying of votes and cheating being done in the ad department, I suggest The Cheiftain get that department stapled back together.  Unless bribery is okay in which case I can cook a mean pasta dinner.  Would that guarantee me a nomination if I cater one day?  Have I been told scuttlebutt for no reason?  They killed my Best Blogger category a couple of years ago, so it doesn’t effect me.  They introduced Best Stylist a couple of years ago and I’m annoyed that three people from the same company won all three placements.  It smells fishy to me.  It’s too fishy actually.  I wasn’t raised on a farm, but I know what bull shit smells like when I smell it. July is generally when the ballots fill up online.  People tell me they vote.  If there’s a category for Biggest Gossip or Biggest Blabbermouth, fill in my name please.  Word on the street is that I’ve been blacklisted from ever being nominated again for talking shit about the local paper.  Gimme a break!  I have always been vocal and alot of people feel the same way I do.  Get over it.  This wouldn’t be the first organization in this city that has blacklisted me.  I would never refer to myself as a trouble maker.  I would call myself a firestarter.  Madonna is a fire starter.  Kanye is a firestarter.  Obama is a firestarter.  Get over yourself if you think I’m offensive and need to be put in my place.  I add to this community.  I have obtained a certain notoriety.  This is not ego talking, its the reality of it. Thanks for your consideration.” 

Time Ended: 12:55 AM 

 

 

Standard
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.

Standard