The Comfy Corner

Last weekend I returned to nature. Now, when I say I returned to nature, I'm afraid you might be  imagining me going for a light day hike in Long Island... uh, you would be wrong. You would be very wrong!!! I returned to nature, y'all. To be specific, I returned to 22 miles of nature through the Lye Brook Wilderness of Vermont. Allow me to paint a picture of just how much nature was in this nature. On the trail, there was a sign that said, "This trail is designed for the truly adventurous hiker. The kind of person seeking a real challenge. It is minimally maintained and there are few, if any, bridges. Good luck!" This was not a sign that was lying. This was a sign that was telling the truth. There were downed trees everywhere. EVEN THE TREES COULDN'T HACK IT! AND THEY'RE TREES! In fact, it was worse than the sign had suggested, because after we crossed the river (via a beaver dam because "few, if any, bridges") we realized that a recent hurricane had completely flooded out our trail (if you could even really call it a trail). So we were forced to venture off trail and brave the actual wilderness. Perhaps you've heard of the term "bush whacking"? Yeah, that's what we were doing. This wasn't Vermont, y'all. This was the straight up Amazonian rainforest. These woods were overgrown like I've never seen. And I was wearing shorts (Yes, they were cargo shorts, I'm guilty okay, but I needed all the pockets I could get)! In any event, these were not shorts conditions! I might as well have been in a mini skirt, because my legs were slowly being destroyed by mother nature. I was dealing with the mud, the flooding, cuts on my legs, the mosquitoes (dear God, the mosquitoes), the walking through spiderwebs, the snakes, and just when I was getting used to all of that, we realized that we were completely lost. And just as we began to pore over our map, that's about when it started to POUR rain. Which is shortly before the time that I checked my phone only to realize that we were in the midst of a severe thunderstorm warning and we were being told to seek shelter immediately (the warning included a list of the dangers of being outside and the risks of lightning strikes). As the rain leaked through my muddy poncho and my hands clutched a soaked, useless map, I suddenly realized that I had developed something that I haven't had in a long time - perspective.

RuPaul once said something in a podcast that has really stuck with me. He said that you have to "Google Earth your life." When I was on that trail, lost, in the rain, on the cusp of potential death by lightning strike, I literally pulled out my phone and Google Earthed my life and it all made sense! I said, "Oh! That's where that lake is, I need to go this way!" (Thank God for iPhones and Verizon signal in the wilderness) And now that I am back in the comfort of my home, sitting with my Mac, a Bulleit manhattan in hand, I have realized that I need to have that kind of perspective in my daily life! Any time I am feeling nervous, lost, scared, confused I can always "Google Earth" the situation. Two fingers. Zoom out. Boom. Everything makes sense again. It's all perspective, y'all! No matter how shitty a situation is, you can always change it simply by changing your perspective on it. By looking at the bigger picture. The macrocosm, not the microcosm. As RuPaul expounds, "The call is coming from inside the house!" It's all you, y'all! Joy emanates from within. And you gotta take that journey yourself. You can't rely on anyone else to upload that Google Earth app for you! If you can't learn to love yourself, how the hell you gonna love anybody else? Can I get an amen? You gotta download that app and sign in! And once you've got it all loaded up, just zoom out y'all. And then you'll be like, "Oh! That's it? That's what I'm dealing with? I got this."

Also, I should mention, when you're in the wilderness, the things you take for granted in life suddenly become luxuries (toilets, lights, stoves, air conditioning, chairs) and you have no choice but to develop some perspective. So comfy cornerers, if you're feeling a little lost in your life, I recommend literally taking a hike, and then just do a Google Earth. It really, really helps. Stay comfy y'all.

In this season of juice cleanses, 20 day yoga challenges and ginger/cayenne/lemon juice shots, I thought it would be apropos to go against the grain and start a 16 Bourbon challenge. A challenge where I try 16 different bourbons in 20 days. Kind of the opposite of a cleanse, I know, but it fits right in line with one of my biggest goals right now: to become a more of a man. I've been thinking a lot recently about what makes a man a man. And I've decided that somewhere amongst my glasses of pinot grigio and vanilla bean scented candles, I have lost touch with my manhood. So in an effort to reclaim my manhood for good, I have compiled a comprehensive list of what I have decided makes a man a man. Feel free to print this out and hand it to your boyfriend or your pocket gay or whoever.

1) A man has a favorite Bourbon (or he'll just order something on tap if he's new to the bar)
2) A man doesn't drink sauvignon blanc
3) A man always carries some cash
4) A man is good with children
5) A man has a sense of style
6) A man fixes things
7) A man is good at his job (and doesn't complain)
8) A man owns up to his mistakes
9) A man is not afraid of his sexuality and is not apologetic about his sexual desires
10) A man does the dishes but doesn't point out that he did them
11) A man gets the door without thinking
12) A man has a tool set and knows how to use it
13) A man gives up his seat on the subway to moms, children, and old people
14) A man listens and carefully crafts his opinions
15) A man loves to be alone
16) A man takes control and takes care of things
17) A man doesn't hide under the covers, he gets out of bed and checks out the situation with a baseball bat or something
18) A man has a good sense of direction
19) A man is not a know it all, he keeps his mouth shut on topics he is not knowledgable about
20) A man maintains an air of mystery about him. He watches, he observes, you never quite know what a man is thinking.

There ya go. This is what I'm working on. So if you see me skipping down the street and giggling like Spongebob, please stop me and remind me that I'm trying to collect man points. Okay? Thanks. Stay comfy y'all.

3am on 8th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen. My good friend Tony let out a long sigh. "New York City..." he remarked as we were strolling to the nearest gay club in our tight pants and leather jackets, our heads buzzing from the poor choices we had already made that evening. I nodded my head in approval and started laughing uncontrollably. There comes a point in every New Yorker's time here when they realize that they can simply sum up all of their NYC experiences with a sigh and a "New York City." I have realized that the things that I rave and complain about on a daily basis are essentially always the same. And so, I find, it is easiest to just sum it all up with a sigh or a sassy lip smack or an eye roll or a "New York City." It's a real time saver. No need to waste breath on things that everyone is already well aware of and on board with. One of my biggest eye roll moments happened a few weeks ago.

I was in a "getting things done" kind of mood. Sun glasses on. Mariah Carey in my earbuds. There was pep in every step. I was walking on air! I decided that I should take advantage of this momentum by finding a nearby coffee shop and getting some work done. I had my computer and a good attitude so the possibilities were endless. I found a local, organic coffee shop (take THAT, Starbucks) and, to my delight, they served a very bougie, very delicious pour over coffee. I am a bit of a coffee snob, so the fact that they had Guatemalan pour over coffee really turned me on. I got my cup of coffee, found a quiet corner in the back of the cafe by the window, pulled out my laptop, and before I could open up a Word document and take that first, heavenly sip of my coffee, a gentleman from the counter rushes over to me and says, "I'm sorry sir. We don't allow laptops here. It's kind of our thing. We want people to be more human here." To which I shut my laptop and responded with the biggest eye roll I have ever given in my life. What is more human than using a laptop?! How much more ridiculous can this city get??? This "rule" that this coffee shop decided to have quickly jumped to the top of my list of "things that make me roll my eyes." It even beat the time that I saw a dog wearing tennis shoes in the Upper West Side and his owner looked at me and snarkily said, "These paws haven't touch pavement in seven years." Congrats, sir. Ugh, I was in a perfectly good mood and this coffee shop ruined it all. I think now is a good place to mention that the name of the cafe was, "Cafe Grumpy." Aptly named, right?

To top it all, after the shutting of my laptop and the eye roll, the man sitting beside me leaned over shaking his head and said, "New York City..." He knew. We all know. Stay comfy y'all.

When I think about all of the incredibly talented artists that we have lost to drugs and alcohol, I get super emotional. I mean, let's be honest here, I can get emotional over a sad-looking telephone pole. I'm an emotional person. Deal with it, y'all! But I'm talking about Philip Seymour Hoffman, Heath Ledger, Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, Chris Farley to name but a few. All were incredible artists that had incredibly successful careers and left us too soon because they had very troubled personal lives. There is life and there is career. When we see someone up on the big screen that has had an incredible career, we imagine that their personal lives must be so glamorous and easy. But the truth is, they have to do their dishes and clean out their cabinets and drawers just like the rest of us. They aren't super humans! In fact, I'd like to theorize regular people are much more adept at living than famous people are. I have a theory that most famous people don't know how to live their regular lives off camera because they have devoted all of their time to their career and very little time to figuring out who they are. Regular people spend all of their time working on themselves. Regular people work on their relationships and spend time with their families and go to therapy and take care of themselves. Many famous people have cut out their families and their friends and have laser focused all of their attention on their careers and in that process have forgotten that they also need to have a life! And for what? For the spotlight? What good is the spotlight if you don't have a life to go home to when the spotlight is off?

It is a delicate balance between life and career. Julianne Moore, I believe, has figured out that balance. (I've ran into her several times in the city with her family and I've seen her on Ellen, so that means I know everything about her) Ellen asked her about what her biggest struggle is and she said, "It's trying to get my kids to hang up their wet towels. I'm sicking of cleaning towels!" She's focused on her life, but she also has an incredible career, because she has put in a ton of effort into herself. She has a family that she cares about, she has a home that she takes care of, she has earned her life and a career has followed her steadily through it all. Same goes for Meryl Streep and Daniel Day Lewis to name a couple more. They've worked diligently at their careers and their lives. They know how to set a balance. They know when they have to take a break. And that is the point I'd like to make. You are valuable not only because you're beautiful or you're talented or you're constantly working, you are most valuable because you are here. You are alive. You are on this planet. And it isn't about "making it" in whatever business you are a part of, it is about becoming yourself. Earning yourself and constantly striving for happiness. And that means taking care of yourself. Going to therapy. Dealing with the things that are preventing you from becoming 100% you. It is a full time job really, but you must do that first. And then your career will be so much easier and so much more fulfilling and enjoyable. And you'll live long enough to make a real impression. If Lady Gaga doesn't release an album for a couple years because she has to take care of herself, excellent! I much prefer her healthy and alive because I love everything she does. A career is meaningless if you have no one and no reason to live for it. Many folks throw themselves into their careers because it fills some hole in their lives. It is makes them feel better to be doing what they love. But what happens when you aren't doing what you love. When you are just at home being you. That time is just as valuable if not more valuable. You are never going to be able to fill the hole with your career.

You need two things in this life. You need a self and you need to be excellent at what you do. You have to be lucky to get old. It isn't given to you, it is worked at. So work at it. Live a life. Nurture your relationships organically. This business isn't about being pretty or talented (although it may seem that way). It's about working diligently at something you love and taking care of yourself along the way. So I urge you all to do this. And most importantly, stay comfy y'all.

I had a real flair for the dramatic growing up. As did, I suppose, most people who grew up to become actors. But, I believe, everyone kind of has a flair for the dramatic when they're young, right? I mean, just listen to the cacophony of children on the subway every afternoon screaming for their "passy" or their "baba" or whatever. Or, God-help-me, listen to those kids at brunch on the weekends in Tribeca. "I SAID I WANT OYSTEEEERRRS!!!" I swear, that whole neighborhood becomes one giant, bougie Gymboree on the weekends. Thankfully, most people grow up and learn how to tame that dramatic beast inside themselves and only release the drama-beast when they are drunk or heavily medicated after surgery. Actors, on the other hand, have the unique ability to be dramatic about things while completely sober and sans-incision (but that clearly doesn't stop us from going under the knife or drinking alcohol Lindsay Lohan). In any event, the message I'm trying to convey here, perhaps unsuccessfully, is that it is perfectly healthy to be dramatic sometimes while you're sober. Just get it out of your system, y'all! Drama is a dish best served piping hot. So go for it! Do what I did the first time I got a charley horse.

I was seven. I had just cozied into the top bunk of my bed. My mother had tucked me in burrito-style, like I prefer, and turned out the lights. I had waited the standard couple of seconds before I turned around to pull out my secret stash of toy cars from under my pillow (I liked to play cars even after I had already been tucked in. Rebel Chang) and that's when it happened. Searing pain shot through both of my legs. It was like the devil himself had reached his red, hot hands through my skin, grabbed hold of both of my calf muscles, and started slowing ripping them apart, cackling all the while. I screamed out in pain and horror as I fell out of my bed. I rolled around for a bit clutching my shins, hot tears streaming down my face. My life was flashing before my eyes, all seven years of it. No more pushing sticks down the creek, no more riding my bike around the cul-de-sac in tight circles, no more slip n' slides! In the words of the Backstreet Boys, it hit me harder than a shark attack! My mind was exploding with pain, I knew nothing except that I needed to seek immediate medical attention. I made use of my only two working limbs and I army-crawled out of my room. Every pull of my arms caused an equal jolt of pain through my legs. It was torture, but I knew that I needed to see my Dr. Dad right now because I knew these legs needed immediate amputation! That was the only solution for this brand of pain, I knew it. So I crawled down the stairs crying out for the whole neighborhood to hear, "I'LL NEVER WALK AGAIN!!! I'LL *sniff* NEVER *sniff* WALK *cough* AGAIIINNNN!!!" I pulled myself into the living room with the last bit of strength my arms had left in them. It was like the final scene of Lord of the Rings when Frodo has to make that final push to get the ring into the volcano. And there sat my family, all staring at me drop-jawed. I saw their blurry outlines through my tears and I reiterated "I CAN'T WALK! I'LL NEVER WALK AGAIN!" They didn't seem to understand me! Why weren't they rushing me off to the hospital or bursting into tears? Their baby boy was dying!  Perhaps, I conjectured, they were all born without emotions! This is when the worst thing that could have possibly happened, happened. They all started laughing. A look of confusion spread across my snotty, tear-stained, seven-year-old face. They were salting the wound. The louder they laughed, the more my legs hurt. Didn't they know that?

My dad eventually calmed me down and explained to me what a charley horse was and that I just had to stretch it out for a bit. I got better. No amputation necessary. And now, my family just loves to tell this story at the dinner table. Okay, was I being a bit dramatic? Yes. But isn't that how we ALL feel when we get charlie horses?! Like we'll never walk again? I was just responding to my pain honestly! And I feel like people don't do that often enough. We stifle our response to pain because we are afraid that we might come across as what? Weak? Well, I have no fear of seeming weak. I freely admit that I am a delicate flower. When a doctor asks, "On a scale of 1 to 10 how is your pain?" I say, "11! FIX ME!!!" I'm that guy that says "ouch ouch ouch!" before people even touch me or if someone maybe came close to stepping on my toe. Because I don't wanna hold it in. I want to feel. And to feel is to experience, y'all. So go ahead. Throw your temper tantrums. Whine about your petty problems. Get it out of your system so that you have a clear head to actually deal with things like an adult. And also so that you don't become a drug addict or something. It's healthy to feel emotions, I promise. Stay comfy y'all.

When you attend a middle school in a hippie-littered, lesbian-abundant, obnoxiously self-satisfied city like I did, you don't go on normal school field trips. No, you go to Camp Earthshine. Yes, this is a real place and yes I really went there.

I had exactly two friends in middle school. A nerdy white boy named Matt and a nerdy Indian boy named Keeshan. They were awesome. We were awesome. And we did everything together. I mean, come on, who needs girls or parties or middle school drama when you have awesome RPG's to play on the computer?! Xenimus, anyone? So fun. We even had a shared notebook of secrets that we would pass back and forth to each other in class (it was links to porn sites, y'all, we were C-O-O-L). And when it came time for our school field trip to Camp Earthshine, of course we decided to room together. We were buds. And we were psyched.

The theme of our three day adventure at Camp Earthshine was "Destination: 1840." For the first half of the trip, we were Cherokee indians. It was like an acting exercise, so naturally, I rocked at it. I gutted a fish, I cooked said fish over a fire, I then ate said fish in a legit teepee, I threw a tomahawk, and I ground some corn. If I had been any more Cherokee, I would have been walking the trail of tears! The second half of the trip I was a pioneer, black-smithing, candle-making, and apple-cider grinding. If I had been any more pioneer, I would have been kicking the Cherokee off their land and sending them on the trail of tears! It was both educational, a little bit sad and dangerous. So naturally, I thrived. The best part of the trip, however, was the accommodations. All of the students stayed in the main lodge, which was pretty cool. That's also where we ate our meals and they would give away awards for the tables that left the least amount of food waste (hippies). The lodge, however, was not big enough to accommodate all of us. Three boys got to stay in the guest house. And you guessed it, Keeshan, Matt, and I were those lucky boys. Cherokee by day, middle school boys wreaking havoc in the guest house at night. And this wasn't just any guest house. No, it was practically Trump manor. Two stories. A spiral staircase! A KITCHEN! Just for the three of us. We stayed up late into the night swapping ghost stories, having pillow fights, and eating strange things on dares. Everything was perfect until, if I remember correctly, we got a little too rowdy and ended up punching a hole in the wall. And then we got a little hyped up on candy and broke a bunk bed. And then I got bad diarrhea because of all the candy and I think I didn't cook my fish all the way through and I definitely ate too many apples (they were free y'all!). And our teacher had to intervene.

We got in trouble, yeah. But would it have been so memorable if I hadn't gotten in trouble? Absolutely not! We were three nerdy boys allowed to let loose for the first time ever! It was our time to break shit and we did not disappoint. So if you are a parent of a nerdy, perfect teenage boy and you are trying to get them to do something wrong for a change so that they can live a little.... send them to Camp Earthshine. Stay comfy y'all!