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, 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.

 

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jry, rules for life

Happy New Year! xo- j.

Sunday, 1 January 2017 —

A new year! Finally!  There are so many cliche things that run through my head during a new year.  One thing I can tell you that really affects me as we turn on the calendar app on January 1st is relief.  I never felt this til I began filing my own taxes as an independent contractor.  In so many ways, the new year, the new tax year, the new calendar year ushers in so many changes.  There’s so many doors to close and so many loops of communication that end on December 31st.  It’s kind of nice!

I begin the “shut down process” of the calendar year each Rosh Hashanah.  The Jewish New Year ushers new personal goals that reflect into my professional life each September or October.  Fiscally, businesses like to shut down their spending in October to make way for the holiday rush and if you are in retail, some of your LAST ordering of goods happens mid-October and early November.  By November 15, you should have smooth sailing in your business.  My life reflects this so much now.  Even if I didn’t have a salon, I know I would reflect the same.My brain is programmed this way now.  Now I know what my dad felt.  As a business owner with multiple business partners, investors and locations, he had to have the same “tug” at his mind and heart that I do.

Chris and I spent New Year’s Eve at home watching movies with our friend Kassidy.  We all had an alcohol of choice and drank prosecco at midnight. Oh boy!  I don’t think it could have gotten any better or any calmer than that.

I often tell people that the way you end your year and ease into the first of the new year echoes how your year will be.  I really have come to believe that now.  Every year, I write a Facebook post about KEY PLAYERS in my world from the year prior.  Some people respond, some ignore, some I never hear from again in the new year.  I’ve come to realize that those people that duck out of your life or are not mentioned as key people aren’t bad, its just that life changes.  My life has changed. I have finally accepted it.  About June last year, I let a few KEY PEOPLE know that our relationships may change.  It was all for the best.

This morning I woke up, I wasn’t sad, I was content.  I thought of all the folks and relationships in my life and I have no regrets.  I have one mission in 2017 and that is a declared hashtag to #make2017mybitch.  What I mean by this is that I am on a mission!  I am not taking any prisoners.  I’m not waiting for you to text me back, I’m not waiting on confirmations, I’m not waiting on people to shit or get off the pot . I’m on a mission to build my brand, build my reputation in my industry some more and build my reputation in my community.  I have always vowed to try and practice more kindness and will try, in all my power, to be friendly. By friendly, I mean: more welcoming and to be a better listener.  I listen well, but I’m not warm and fuzzy.  I don’t know if I will ever be warm and fuzzy, but I will try to be more nurturing to you as my friend, client or associate.  I will not, however, hold your hand, full-frontal hug you or listen to you whine like a bitch.  2017 is my bitch so that position has been filled.

I think after four glasses of prosecco last night and some quiet time, I’m on goal to just relax and worry about my business, my bubs, my parents and my friends that know me behind the smoke and mirrors of being Josh Cooley.  Frankly, the smoke and mirrors has vanished.  I think at this age, what you see is what you get.

I’ll try to be a good friend, I’ll try to listen, I’ll even ask you how your day is, but frankly, I’m going to take care of me.  If I don’t, how can I help take care of you?

Here’s to 2017, my beautiful bitch. Happy New Year! Drink lots of prosecco and worry about your own well-being.  Once you start valuing YOU full-time, you will be secure enough to deal with others.

FINALLY, TWO RESOLUTIONS TO PUT OUT THERE IN THE UNIVERSE THAT I THINK EVERYONE SHOULD FOLLOW THIS YEAR:

  1. I will not apologize to you for anything.  I didn’t do anything to you. I’m not a bad person or vindictive.  That behavior doesn’t serve me.
  2. I will not kiss your ass, whoever you are.  No one is that special. 

 

Happy New Year! xo-j

 

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a year in my life, jry, living well

Yom Kippur: Period.

Wednesday, 12 October 2016 — Yom Kippur, the day of Atonement 

There’s not much to say today as it’s the final day of the High Holy Days this year.  Rosh Hashanah begins the 10 day period like the capital letter at the beginning of the sentence and Yom Kippur reels it all in like the period at the end of the sentence.  Chris is off to see his friend this afternoon and then we’re going to browse rummage shops and consignment stores.  I won’t be buying anything, but it will keep my mind off the fast.

Fasting for me is not even a big deal anymore.  I made the comment to Chris that I live such a blessed life and its circled around food and drink, 25 hours is not going to kill me.  I read today that every time there would be a meal time or snack or a cocktail time, you should sit and think about your atonement with God. Atonement has nothing to do with what you’ve done wrongly towards others, it has everything to do with your covenant with The Creator.

I would hope that folks act as they would want the Creator to act towards them.  If you’re spiteful and rude, the Universe in turn will probably be the same to you.  It’s not in your best interest to be hateful, rude or disrespectful.  It’s certainly not in my own interest to worry about the negative actions of others unless it effects my life directly.  I feel as though I council so many people about this when they talk to me.  Whether they are clients, friends, a mix of both, or family members, I am constantly saying “worry about you. Don’t worry about them.”

I would hope in the year of 5777 (16-170), I could just adopt this philosophy full-time.  Not only does it cut down on stress, but it’s something I am evolved to at this point in my life.  It’s not worrisome to me if you don’t like me or have negative things to say about me.  Unless you’re coming at me with a knife or trying to take me down, I really couldn’t care less.

My respect toward the world mirrors my respect toward the Creator and my respect to myself.  This Yom Kippur, I am gladly inviting the spiritual act of atoning humbly and helping God pen that last punctuation in the sentence of this year’s High Holy Days.

Period.

 

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a year in my life, jry, Shabbat

Shabbat: Visiting Artists and Roasted Chile

Saturday, 24 September 2016 —

This week was a week of preparation for one of Pueblo, Colorado’s biggest events: The Chile-Frijole Festival.  It’s a huge event!  Believe it or not, people travel here for it.  It’s always getting a lot of media coverage.  I don’t mind it at all.  I love what it does for agriculture, but what I do mind is all the vendors that are NOT associated with food or chile.  The vendors that sell cheap knock off plastic toys and fake Chanel really don’t need to be around.  It’s really unnecessary if you ask me.  They annoy me.  There are tons of bands and a few liquor tents.  I wish you could walk around with a cocktail.

Last night Chris and I took a little Shabbat stroll through the festival and saw a really cool taco truck.  It had some very Baja-style eats.  I was impressed.  I may take a little visit and see what their food is like.  It was very modern, kinda hipster, very Food Network and progressive.  Wow, Pueblo!  We NEED MORE OF THOSE!!!

I had a stint at Shear Results for two days this week and worked my ass off!  Chris came with me on day 2 and was busy busy.  We colored, we cut, we walked back and forth in a huge salon.  The salon is at least 3 times bigger than mine. When you’re used to 800 square feet, 2,700 square feet is HUGE.  My feet hurt so bad yesterday.  Chris and I had lunch around 3:30 yesterday and enjoyed a couple of liquid libations before we took off, packed up and came home.  He had one last haircut at 5:15pm.  I thought I was going to have a moment to check email and the world of social media, but no such luck!  His guest was obsessed with talking to me.  I took it as a compliment and entertained a bit.  We got home around 7:30 and walked around the festival since we literally live on the street that the event takes place.  There was no relaxing this Shabbat with the smell of roasted chiles and bands playing right outside my balcony.

We came home, played Monopoly, complained about feet hurting, rejoiced in making a fuckton of money Friday and fell asleep in the living room.  Chris woke me up around 4am and told me to come to bed.  I layed in bed and told him sleepily: “Happy Anniversary”.  Next month, we celebrate 2 years together.  It couldn’t come at a better time when it seems like all our friends are divorced, separated or jaded towards us for staying together.  That’s another blog waiting to be written though… today I just want to focus on the Chile Fest and resting my feet.

 

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a year in my life, Dinner, Eating Habits, etiquette, Family, Food, jry, living well, luxelove, rules for life

Thursday Evening: It’s Time To “Take” A Holiday

Thursday, 11 August 2016 — 

I’m sitting at the wine bar typing.  Chris is in Denver with Miya.  I’m all alone for the evening.  Solito pa’ moi — it’s a bit refreshing, but at on the same token, not what I expected this evening.  Miya is at a concert tonight and Chris is being a good big brother and chaperoning.  I expect to see him about midnight or one. We’ll see.  In the meantime, I’m single tonight and single now does not feel like single did when I was actually, well, single.

I’ve been talking to my clients a bit about my trip to Florida and a few have had no idea whether I was gone for business or pleasure, but lucky for me it all plays out as pleasure since I love what I do for a living.  As I was sitting with Richard at the end of my visit last month, he said he wouldn’t be able to touch base with me because was going to be “on holiday” for most of August.  He asked me where I was going for holiday and I wanted to respond to him that we don’t really do that here.  It’s sad, really.  I want to go “on holiday”!

I wonder why we don’t take holiday in the United States.  Are we addicted to work? of all things

September rolls around two days after my birthday and ever since I was a child, all I remember was that September 1st meant we were back to business: school is back in session, the Jewish High Holy Days begin soon, fashion week causes a commotion on the television and print media.  There’s a part of the world that celebrates the Jewish New Year by celebrating fashion week and a new “season”.  The television series on network television begin again, magazines are dedicated to beauty forecasts and the New York Times seems like it begins anew as well.

Every September, I revamp the website, look at pricing at the salon, drop color lines, drop services, drop retail lines, add a new line, add a new color line, refresh my game if you will.  Why in all the years have I not taken holiday, celebrated my birthday, and begun anew on September 1st?

I think, come 2017, I’m going to begin taking holiday… in August, and celebrate my birthday… in August.  Yes.  Holiday it is!

I have to tell you: working for a European company has changed my breakfast habits and ideas of “work”.  I don’t know why we don’t take more breaks, eat better food, enjoy life and live without smartphones.  I really don’t.

I am feeling a strange rebirth taking place in my life.  I don’t want to go on being so American and so obsessed with work and money.  I want to live a little.  I want to “take” holiday.  I want to “take” exercise (as the English would say).  I want to take siesta (like the Spaniards) and mostly, I want to learn to love existing again. Living to work is not the way life should be.

Save your money.  Give it your all each day. Eat good cheese, good bread, good butter.  Fuck what people say! Take a holiday, learn to breathe, learn to take a break and enjoy this life.

We only have one, my darlings.

 

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Friday Morning: Eggplants and Emojis

Friday, 10 June 2016 —

Yesterday I woke up late for a meeting.  Well, I wasn’t exactly late.  I just wasn’t ready to be “on”.  I have contemplated joining a networking group.  I joined one about ten years ago when I was new in the industry and it all was very helpful and taught me a lot about business and forming connections.  I’m on the fence about committing myself to a group of people.  I remember really enjoying it though.  The one thing I can’t handle is that these meetings go past the hour allotment and it’s really not in my best interest to be sitting in meetings for much longer than that.  I start to fidget .  I start hating life.  I’m good about 40 minutes in and at the 45 minute mark, I’m anxious.  Maybe I’ll join and always leave early.  Maybe I’ll join and they’ll kick me out.  We’ll see…

This evening while Chris relaxed on the couch,  I binge-watched a ton of Live Madonna videos on YouTube.  I think people (especially young people) forget how incredibly talented that woman is!  She is probably one the single best live dancers on stage.  Her vocals are not always on point unless she’s really into the song.  I’ve noticed that when her energy is really high, her vocals are on point; however, when she overthinks the lyrics, she holds the notes for far too long and tries to sounds like she did when she was singing in the musical Evita.  Just be Madonna, Madonna.  We love Madonna. One particular video I watched for eight minutes straight was a video of her being a bitch and having diva moments which I found hilarious.  I can’t say there was once a moment where I couldn’t personally put myself in her shoes.  I’ve been called an egoist and a spoiled diva in my day and I get it now. I totally get why people say that!  I get why I’m a target of conversation and gossip.  Frankly, I think smart, opinionated people have more chatter surrounding them.  Most folks are threatened by someone that doesn’t follow rules, doesn’t care about winning or failing or really even looks for feedback to their creative or business process.  I think that’s Madonna to a tee.  I think that’s me to a tee.

This evening while I was sipping prosecco, one of my friends sent me a screen cap of a guy that “censored” a very nasty photo of him giving another guy fellatio by superimposing a popsicle over it and hash tagging #happynationalsexday.  We had a good banter about it and the whole time I looked at this “censored” (and not very well, mind you) photo, I felt sorry for this person . Why does he think he needs to call attention to himself by posting sexually explicit photos of himself on the internet?  I often wondered this about my former “friend”.  He constantly posted sex stories on Tumblr, shirtless photos and pictures of his ass all over his microblog.  He was so proud of his open whoreness, however, when it came to me seeing his content, he’d freak the fuck out!  He was very defensive when I would say, “oh yeah.  I saw that!” I thought he was a nasty slut looking for dick, personally.  I was often upset with his conduct and wanted to send the URL to his mother and watch her shit her pants.  Frankly, he needed a slap in the face.  He has moved on now and occasionally I look at his Tumblr page and have seen that he too has taken pictures of his private parts and “censored” them with a superimposed eggplant emoji.  What a sad little slut!  I’ve seen the “eggplant”, it’s not that big or that appetizing. 

In full need of not obsessing over the phishing-for-a-compliment tactics of social media gays, I sipped on my processo and decided to take a selfie.  My clothes were on and I did not need an emoji to cover anything private or scandalous.  I didn’t need photoshop, I didn’t need any validation really except my own.  I took a cute little photo with a champagne flute, perfect tan, good volume to my hair and cute little pink lips.  I would take THAT over anyone’s “eggplant” any day.

The truth is the world baffles me these days.  It’s a zoo out there on a normal day and then we have access to a social media zoo 24/7.  Not everyone’s content is very thrilling.  Believe me, I know!  I write a blog!  I see the ratings and the readership.  People will take the time to look at a nasty photo and share it over taking the time to read a well-drafted, edited written piece.  We’ve become very dumb.  We went in reverse!  The world of social media is polluted by “picture books” and less chapter books.  I always loved a good story.

Eggplants and misplaced emojis don’t thrill me.  Words make me happy.  Maybe, I’ll join the networking group and see if these folks understand by words and communication skills.  I doubt a shocking popsicle photo would bring me any business.  Maybe all folks posting nasty photos should learn what its like to communicate and do something “smart” instead of relying on their cheap shock tactics for attention.

Here’s to words!  Here’s to text!  (Time to delete my emoji keyboard.)

 

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