The Andy Cohen Diaries (45 page)

Got booked on Jimmy for next week. Need to think of some stories.

Lunch with Bruce at Good. Trying to figure out where to go for Christmas. He thinks West Coast Christmas, then Cabo or Hawaii. I am intrigued, but also excited by Trancoso in Brazil.

Got another ride to the beach from Kelly and gave Wacha a few Happy Travelers for the helicopter because I was terrified he'd have the fit I thought he was going to have last week, but he was perfect. Went with Mark and Kelly to the JLo birthday thing and it turned out to be a lot of fun. (No one brought gifts, it wasn't that kind of party. I had decided, though, that were I to bring her gifts, I would've gotten her books because who is buying JLo books?
JLo needs books!
) I probed Benny Medina for even more Diana Ross/Berry Gordy stories and he told me about the night he was working for Berry when he was in the studio mixing “Love Hangover”—that was the only thing I needed to hear all night. JLo was in white pants and a white kind of bra/bustier thing and her hair was super eighties. She said she was doing a Cindy Crawford homage and I said it was very
Fair Game
and she said she auditioned for that and wanted the part more than anything, and I said I heard that Cindy felt the same way about JLo's part in
Gigli
. Laughs all around. She said it would take a strong woman to survive
Gigli
. Kristin Chenoweth was there and it was her birthday too, and our show was airing tonight so we were extra bonded. Rachel Zoe was in a black jumpsuit and her hair had a braid that she said her nanny did. Leah Remini told me some good backstage stuff about
The Talk
. She loves Julie. I also chatted with Elaine Goldsmith-Thomas, Darren Star, Tracy Anderson, and Aaron Rosenberg. Met Bethenny's branding agent, who was very verbal about
RHONY,
and I said keep a lid on it, fella. No way this will not leak. And Tony Diavolo from
Dancing with the Stars
showed up at the end and said he does get put with all the difficult ladies. He survived Kate Gosselin. I need to hear that story but we had to go because Mark had an early call for
Alpha House
and my car was at their house and I was exactly at the point where I could still legally drive. Saw Khloé Kardashian on the way out and I sensed an initial cold front coming from her. Her ass—I don't even know how to describe it. It was so bulbous and extended and shelflike and badonkadonkulous. I asked her if her ass had always been like that or if I was looking at something different or what. She said she was wearing special Spanx that lift it. JLo said Spanx usually flatten your ass so these must be a new kind. I got home and realized I have been shit-talking Kanye a lot on the show and maybe Kim a little too so I deserved some KardashiShade.

FRIDAY, JULY 25, 2014—SAG HARBOR

Woke up feeling blah and canceled my Tracy Anderson. Hung out all day at Amanda's pool with Graciela, planning our yearly Fire Island getaway. We talked about: the Upper East Side, prescription meds, Botox, Israel vs. Palestine, marriage, Hamptons real estate,
The Real Housewives of New York City
, anal sex, our parents, ex-boyfriends, tits, and Wacha. Got a little work done, then had a date night with my long-term lover, me. (The doctor has been working overnights and our momentum is challenged.) We went to see
Boyhood
in East Hampton and it was the type of thing that felt a little plodding, then totally hit me in the end. An incredible achievement in filmmaking, says Andy Cohen. Went to Sam's and killed a medium mushroom and onion pizza at the bar. Graham said that the lady from Coke was at his door the Monday after my dinner with Barry last month, and they've been back. I filled in some blanks for him about how this turned into a matter of importance for Coke. I think he's going to make the change.

SATURDAY, JULY 26, 2014—SAG HARBOR

At Tracy Anderson there was a guy working out in full tennis whites. Of course I was watching him instead of the teacher. I zoned out several times trying to think of a great toast for Liza's wedding. Bruce wants it to be a Smothers Brothers kind of deal where he is the quiet one who gives one-word answers and I do most of the talking. Could be cute.

Winnie Fallon's birthday party was like Christina Crawford's without the matching mom-daughter dresses, or the intense physical and psychological abuse. And Winnie wasn't adopted. OK, this comparison doesn't work at all but I'm trying to say they had a bouncy house, balloons, pizza truck, a pony named Keebler, swimming, and endless food; it was really colorful and festive. I was sitting with Alec Baldwin, who said that his MSNBC show reminded him of me because we'd talked a lot about it socially before it launched. I asked him to refresh my memory about what got him fired, in one word. “TMZ,” he said. I thought about it and remembered the whole story, but if he'd said the word “faggot” I would've caught on quicker. Oy. What a thing for me to be asking him to re-explain. I do not think he is homophobic, by the way, at all. He loves hanging out with gay people. Seeing him, Lorne Michaels, Marci, and Jimmy together was like the Mount Rushmore of NBC comedy. I ate like a pig—tons of mini hot dogs, a long hot dog, turkey burger, mac and cheese, ribs, and pizza. And a Popsicle. And candy. And rosé. Jimmy's parents are hilarious. Gonna go out on a limb and say Wacha was as popular with the kids as Keebler.

Ninety minutes later Mark and Kelly were at my door picking me up for Rocco from Gant's birthday beach party in Amagansett. It was sublime—spectacular music, tikis, bonfire, everyone in Grecian leaf wreaths (mine looked like a cabbage tree on my head; everyone else's made them look exponentially hotter). The beach is perfect. In retrospect we wound up leaving too early.

SUNDAY, JULY 27, 2014—SAG HARBOR–NYC

I do wake up occasionally and wonder where those go-getting Jesus freaks are and why they never came back.

Today was blah. I was blue. Overcast. I dove for my bed at the end of day.

MONDAY, JULY 28, 2014

I remembered today that Wacha's name was at one point Ron Swanson and at another Norman Reedus—and so I called him by both. He didn't respond to Ron but he gave me a crazy look—like he was having a West Virginia flashback—when I called him Norman Reedus. I did it a few times through the day and he would quickly look at me with a suspicious face. I felt guilty for Shirley MacLaine–ing him (it's a verb—look it up) back to the hill country. Or wherever. I'm going to stop with the Norman Reedus, though it is a crazy temptation.

The show was Zoe Saldana and Laverne Cox. I got a quick primer on what not to say to a trans icon (i.e., “How did you pick the name Laverne?”) and Zoe (not allowed to ask if she is pregnant even though her pregnant belly is sticking out), so I said, “Congratulations on
everything
you are
beaming
.” I thought that was smart.

TUESDAY, JULY 29, 2014

Woke up to a big article in the
NY Post
entitled “‘Real' Boring: How the ‘Housewives' Franchise Spiraled into Dullsville”—proclaiming that the whole goose is cooked. Not a fun read. I, of course, disagree, but we have work to do in a few cities. We rebooted
Jersey
this season because there was an overwhelming outcry from viewers for new women and new stories, but now ratings are down and there's an outcry to bring the old women back. So, um … What to do?

Worked out with the Ninj and I weighed in at 163.4; I was thrilled, but I ate barely nothing yesterday, so I won't get used to it.

Conference calls all afternoon. When I was walking the dog, Johnny Iuzzini ran out of that Little Owl catering spot where he was doing some kind of event promoting éclairs (do éclairs need promotion?) and insisted I eat one and it was beeswax and sugar and honey and I didn't really want one and then a photographer appeared and I was in a tank top and it was awkward. I love Johnny, though. I took a bite and it was amazing. Jeanne texted—she and Fred were at Grahame Fowler—so I walked there and they were kid-less and decided to meet me at the show later.

I had a two-hour massage—my first in a month because, and this is what happens in life—I have recommended Adam to every single person I know and gifted him for Christmas to people and now of course he has built up his clientele to the point where
I
can't get a fucking appointment.
Can a white man get a break?
For the first hour (the on-your-back portion) I was on a conference call about
RHONY
casting and pickups and showrunner and all the rest. I am so crazily pumped for Plan B. The producers had dinner with her last night and are really excited too. I was speaking in code in front of Adam because I don't want it to leak. For the second hour I gave him shit about my being at the bottom of his client totem pole. But it was a great massage, so I will be back for more ASAP.

Tonight's show was a potential disaster. Joan Rivers arrived about twenty minutes before air, and there was a lot to discuss. I wanted her to do a little
Fashion Police
thing on the
RHONY
because we were coming out of the reunion; I could tell immediately when I pitched it to her that she wasn't a Housewives fan (“I'll just say they all look like whores” was my first clue). Michael Rourke was there, and we wanted to go through the new creative for the show we're pitching with Joan, and she said it was fine but we had to figure out a role for Melissa. This was new information to us, and a little concerning because we hadn't initially conceived this as a vehicle for them both, but I walked away admiring her for wanting to help her only child. (
And is Melissa Rivers now an EP on my show?
)

I went to say hi to Maksim Chmerkovskiy, and he was not the warmest; I guess that's his reputation? I don't watch
DWTS
, so what do I know, but I guess Joan Rivers had a similar experience, because she marched into the Clubhouse and all signs pointed to her eviscerating him on live TV. I told Jeanne and Fred that the shit was about to go down and I had a pit in my stomach. Their chemistry was tense for the first act (indeed she trashed the
RHONY
but I walked right into that one), and then during commercial break they started talking about Israel and once Joan heard he is on her side she totally fell for him. Crisis averted.

After Sadat and Begin worked out their issue, and just before we came back on air, I asked her if she had any new Helen Keller jokes (Joan is the last person alive still telling them, and the only one who could get away with it) and she thought for a second and gave me a nod as we came back. I asked her if she was still friends with Helen Keller and she went right into a shtick about how boring Helen was, how all she talked about was “the water, the water!” Not that funny in print, but she killed it. During the next break, Maxim turned to her and asked how she could get away with saying terrible things about people. She said it's because she's eighty-one. I told her it's because she's Joan Rivers. Legends get a free pass.

We still don't have a toast for Liza's wedding. My parents and Lynn get in tomorrow—so nice that she included my folks. Oh, I keep wanting to shout “Norman Reedus!” at Wacha to see if he will run to me, but I have controlled myself; I am fascinated and irritated that he has past-life memories. I feel like I'm living with Goldie Hawn in
Overboard.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 30, 2014

After a mostly sleepless night, I boxed six rounds with the Ninj. Didn't weigh myself. Was trying to wrangle a cab with Wacha over to Jackie's while on my headset with the Fallon producer for our pre-interview and was interrupted by a sweet gay guy who needed to tell me at that very moment that his life is fabulous and he needs a show on Bravo. I told him I was on the phone and he said he would wait for me to get off. I said I'm getting in a cab and he should find a production company to partner with and then bring it to Bravo. He did
not
like that answer and stormed off. I felt bad. Short of an eight-episode pickup on the spot, there was no pleasing her (I mean
him
, but he was acting like a chick). Millennials! They want it
all
and they think they deserve it
now
. Little Monsters is right. I should've told him to go check out the Legos at Google HQ. Uptown after Jackie's, Wacha was frothing at the bit to get me to take him into Central Park. I didn't. Poor guy. He is Norman Reedus from Tree Country of West Virginia—and I put him in a cab to his concrete dog run on Little West Twelfth instead. Torture.

Mom and Dad got to town and we had dinner at Morandi with Wacha. They are once again sharing a hotel with a boy band—they can't remember which—and my mom is on a tear about the fans. “They're in CAGES outside on the street! They have them in CAGES! SCREAMING! At NOTHING!” My dad corrected her, “They're behind
barricades
, Evelyn, not in cages.” “Whatever—they're in HYSTERICS!” My mom told some fans they'd seen One Direction when they stayed in the same hotel in Toronto last year. “It wasn't TOTALLY true, but the girls screamed anyway.”

Lynn was waiting for me at home, she's staying with me for the wedding, and we hung for a while and then crashed really early. I was exhausted.

THURSDAY, JULY 31, 2014

Woke up to an email from Dave saying he'd crushed graham crackers in a bowl and put some milk in it, and that I needed to try it ASAP. Sounds revolutionary; skip the middleman! Took Wacha to get dry-cleaned because
CBS Sunday Morning
was coming over to start shooting a profile of me. He was
furious
! He knows exactly where Canine Styles is and tries to pull me in any other direction. Am I
sure
he only has the comprehension of a two-year-old? (I don't know a baby that knows where things are in the West Village, I'm just saying.) Worked out with the Ninj—a lot of abs—and Ben McKenzie from
The OC
was at Willspace; it was fun to have someone new to look at for an hour. Erin Moriarty and Jay Kernis come to my apartment with their CBS News crew. Twenty-five years ago I was interning for Erin, Jay, and Lynn, who happens to be staying in the guest room, so this is the definition of a full-circle moment.