The Magician

The Magician is a channel, an artist, a trickster, a person with immense creative energy who has everything they need for the act of creation already in their possession. The Magician is inspired, improvisational, a conduit for joy. When you get this card in a reading, you already have all the tools you need to realize your creative dreams.

And with that, I’d like to take a circuitous journey to introduce you to my friend, Justin Noble.

I am nineteen years old, a sophomore in college, and I have written a play. Technically it’s the second play I’ve written (there was the play I wrote in high school — TALK OF PLEASANT THINGS, a Eugene O’Neill rip-off that explored drug addiction, alcoholism, terminal illness, homelessness, and a host of other “deep topics” ™ that I had zero experience with). This new play is called THE METAPHYSICS OF BREAKFAST (yup, that was the title) and it’s a comedy about death, a memory play with a bunch of sketch-like vignettes. The play has been chosen for a festival at my college where it will have a reading in a big theater and I’ll have mentors who are actual professional playwrights. It’s a pivotal moment in my young life.

I score an incredible student director — Peter Cook, who is a couple years above me and is a visionary thinker and creative mind. I produced a production of Titus Andronicus that he put up in a classroom. I still think about this production as being one of the cooler pieces of theater I’ve ever been a part of. Anyway, Peter is a legit theater person and because he’s directing, he gets some of the funniest people in our school to be in my reading. One of those people is Justin Noble.

Justin Noble is a big deal. He’s the year above me, and he’s widely recognized as very fucking funny, and destined for greatness. I’m beside myself. I feel like I have made it. Justin kills it in my reading, and also tells me offhand that I’m funny and honestly, I’ve never been happier. The funniest person in the world thinks I’m funny, plus he’s a dude and all I’ve ever wanted is validation from men.

A week or so later, I’m at an off-campus house party and I’m drinking. Justin is there and I get up the nerve to talk to him. First, I praise his performance in my show, fawning all over him. He repeats something about me being funny, and I gush, “oh my god, I have like the biggest crush on you.” This just comes out of my mouth before I have a second to think. Only after it’s hanging there in the air do I remember that one of my new years resolutions was to be more mysterious. Justin takes it in stride, though, and a couple days later he emails to ask me out. To quote the great philosopher, Scheana Marie Shay (quoting Almost Famous), “It’s all happening.”

Historically when things have been going well in my life, my mental illnesses like to pop in to remind me not to get too comfortable. In this particular moment of my nineteen year old life, I’m wrestling with a pretty gnarly bout of obsessive compulsive disorder. The intrusive thought of the moment is about STIs, specifically HIV. Though I’ve never done an intravenous drug, gotten a blood transfusion, or HAD SEX, I cannot get rid of the thought that somehow I’m still absolutely HIV positive.

[There’s a lot to unpack here — my embarrassment at being a nineteen year old virgin, residual Catholic guilt and shame about sex, early aughts pervasive HIV stigma, my deep fear of conflict or tough conversations (my biggest worry about having an STI at this time was about having to tell someone) — but let’s just put all that aside for now. Just know this: at this time in my life when something was going well for me, it came with the unshakeable belief that the proverbial other shoe was about to drop.]

The intrusive thoughts are torture. I have rituals to try to ward them off but they only work for short periods of time, enough to stay on top of my school work, but I’m barely sleeping, cycling though a million different scenarios in which I will definitely die (in my twisted logic, people my age only die when they don’t see it coming, so if I can see it coming, it won’t happen).

This is the state of mind I am in when I agree to the date with Justin. An hour before I’m supposed to meet him, I finally (after years of mental torture) go to the health center to ask to see a therapist. I explain that I’m a virgin but that I can’t stop having intrusive thoughts about contracting STIs, and even though I know it’s impossible, I’m losing sleep over it. That’s classic OCD, but because I’m a college student, the people at the health center are like, “Yeah okay, but let’s test you for STIs you slutty little liar.” (They didn’t say that, but they did care a lot more about testing me than they did about my mental health, and it would be years before I’d make my way to therapy).

I watch them draw my blood up into little vials, and I have the thought, huh, that seems like a lot of blood. Then I roll down my sleeve and get onto the elevator, frustrated that I’m no closer to having a therapist, and promptly pass the fuck out, hitting my jaw on the hand rail on the way down. I wake up on the floor of the elevator to a nurse saying, “You okay?” I say, “yup! all good!” And I get up and sprint out of there mortified by being perceived by another human while unconscious. It’s only a couple blocks away from the health center that I realize my jaw is aching and can’t fully open, but I’m late for my date, so I hustle to Cross Campus where I’m meeting Justin.

This is the opening line I use on the coolest, funniest boy in my entire school: “Hey, sorry if I seem off or like I can’t fully open my mouth, I just got an AIDS test and passed out in the elevator, but don’t worry, I’m a virgin.”

I am unequivocally the most mysterious and sexy woman alive.

Somehow, this is the beginning of one of the central relationships of my life.

Justin is a writer, the co-creator and show runner of Max’s Sex Lives of College Girls. He’s also written for Brooklyn Nine Nine, Never Have I Ever, and a million other hilarious things.  

But how can I describe my friend Justin? How can I fully illustrate to you the magic and joy of this man? Perhaps, to begin, a list of facts:

• Before Postmates, Justin and I had an inside joke about a company called “Mail Me Pasta.” Months after this joke had died, I opened my mail to an envelope filled with dried spaghetti.
• Justin was one of my bridesmaids, and when we were rehearsing the ceremony, he passed out and nearly killed a flower girl, because he was secretly in love with me and couldn’t believe I was getting married to someone else. Either that or it was ninety degrees and he locked his knees.
• Justin wrote his Yale senior history thesis two days before it was due in a hotel room at Disney World.
• He has an extensive collection of Lucky Cats.
• His dog is named Snacks.
• Justin regularly goes to Disneyland "to exercise." Once, I went with him, and we walked ten miles around the park.

Justin is The Magician in the tarot deck of my life. He is an endlessly renewable source of joy and creativity. He can make anything fun. He has made more than one wheel of fortune style wheel— there was a Game Night wheel hanging on the wall in one of his old apartments that you’d spin to choose that evening’s game, and at work (as the show runner/co-creator of SEX LIVES OF COLLEGE GIRLS on Max), his writers spin a wheel to decide where they’ll order in for lunch. He bought his entire writing staff bedazzled baseball caps (“thinking caps”) that hang on a wall in the writers room. 

I recently fucked off to the desert to “help” Justin and Bobby decorate their new Palm Springs house (I mostly hung out in the hot tub and encouraged them to buy a colorful outdoor giraffe sculpture, which they stubbornly refused to do). While there, I conducted a very professional interview with Justin about his creative process. It has been condensed and edited for clarity.

EC: How do you think about creativity and what role does it play in your life?

JN: I value being quick on my feet. I’ve always liked making people chuckle, which is why I can’t even say that sentence in a normal way, I have to say it with a little dance. Life is more colorful and fun when there’s creativity happening or anything non-boring occurring. Inserting creativity into day to day moments is a way to have a better time. I don’t know that I am always trying to say the deepest thing. Sometimes I go there but most of the time, I like to entertain, keep things light, and make people happy.

EC: Yes, and you’re extremely good at it. In my newsletter, which you can read at some point if you ever choose to…

JN: I’ll click the link where you read it out loud.

EC: … I talk about all the things that you like to game-ify.

JN: I love a game.

EC: And I was remembering “spin the wheel to pick game night” and “spin the wheel to pick lunch”

JN: Oh my God, game night! In Culver City! YES, WOW. I love wheels.

EC: You love wheels.

JN: I love a big spinning wheel. I guess I love the concept of playing the odds. I don’t know what it’s gonna be. It boosts my serotonin knowing that the outcome is in the ether and I can’t control it but then I get to enjoy whatever it lands on. Or I can spin the wheel again if I don’t want to play Scattergories tonight.

EC: It’s interesting that you like to give up that control because you are a boss and there are a lot of things you are in charge of. It’s fun that you’ve created opportunities in your life to give up your control to the universe.

JN: I really feel like I’m still learning about who I am as a boss, and I learn that less through examining my own behaviors and actions and more through what I witness the results being in those around me. I am generally incapable of complimenting myself but I do think people like working for me. I think that’s because I focus so heavily on other people having fun. I value myself based off the enjoyment that others are having. That’s my social cred. And I am constantly gameifying things as a boss.

EC: Tell me more about that.

J: Well, you know, like you’re saying — choosing lunch or something like that, but even just day to day if we’re behind on something I find a way to keep everyone in good spirits. No good comedy comes from people who are upset or stressed or feeling behind or worried. You just don’t write good stuff. So I turn into the clown who’s keeping them in the zone that I need them in, even if deep down in that moment I’m the most stressed of these clowns. Sometimes I rewrite something, and even if I’ve replaced a ton of their contributions, I am trying to keep them in good spirits. Because I have been in their shoes and I know that it’s not fun so I try to genuinely guide their feelings to a happier place.

EC: Also I’m sure you are actually grateful for their contributions.

JN: Their contributions are essential and I can’t do my part without them. I want their wonderful ideas and funny jokes, and I don’t want them to be upset about the parts that are gone. So I gameify things and have an attitude where I’m having fun with them. Sometimes I let people I work with see my stress, I have to assume now intentionally. I think maybe to humanize me, so they understand it’s not like, “Oh, he’s some jerk who’s rewriting us. He’s juggling a lot.” I can’t tell if that’s good. I think it helps people feel like part of something if they know that the person at the top also has a full spectrum of emotions. 

EC: Its’s also bringing them into the process. “We’re all in this together.”

JN: Exactly. 

EC: When we met, you were an improvisational genius.

JN: Superstar is the word most people would use.

EC: I mean, yes you are and were then. I’m trying to think what my question would be.

JN: It can just be a straight compliment. This can just be a nice moment.

EC: Remember when we did improv together?

JN: Yes! And you were great too.

E: Thank you.

JN: And it brought you so much panic.

EC: I didn’t love doing it, but I did love playing…

JN: You loved to start scenes where we were all a family band or you were a drunk Mommy.

EC: Yup, and that was it. Those were my two characters.

JN: That’s not true. Because you are…

EC: A drunk mommy.

JN: And you’re a family band leader. No, you love to self-deprecate and project the anxieties you had at the time doing comedy into like a “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly have been good at that.” But you were good at that.

EC: Thank you.

JN: Even as you talk about it, you find the joke in it, which is not unlike what I’m talking about.

EC: I think what you’re saying is that I’m incredible at comedy.

JN: I do think you have untapped professional comedy potential.

EC: Thanks Justin!

JN: I think about it often.

EC: I like turning this into me interviewing you about your thoughts on me.

JN: I don’t know what happened between Frost and Nixon but that’s what this is. I’m not afraid to reference something I am unfamiliar with.

EC: Speaking of Frost/Nixon, how does bullshitting factor into your life?

JN: It’s huge.

EC: It’s huge in my life.

JN: I have noticed in the last couple weeks, I compulsively say and write the phrase, “Love it!” no matter what anyone says.

EC: Including like, “You owe 700 dollars to treat this ant infestation”?

JN: Love it! I think that bullshitting has negative connotations but sometimes it’s just putting something off, or saying “Not right now.” It’s an easy way to deal with something later.

EC: I’m talking about the kind of bullshitting that is actually improvisation. I will pretend to know the answer to something.

JN: Constantly.

EC: And as I’m talking I will find the answer. I like to think out loud. One of the things about being a show runner is that you have to be decisive. I know for me, I’m super decisive and I can live with my decisions, but sometimes I have to project that sense of confidence. “Yes! Blue!” even if I have no idea whether blue is right. But I can live with blue. Maybe it’s more “going with your gut” than “bullshit.”

JN: Yes, I do that. I’m very comfortable doing that in lots of areas. When it comes to writing or what is funny, I’ll wait longer than others would probably like to make those decisions. I do weigh them back and forth.

EC: You’re a bit of a perfectionist.

JN: I’m comfortable bullshitting in a casual conversation and my move is to bullshit and then eventually say, “By the way, I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.”

EC: Like Frost/Nixon?

JN: I can name the actors in the film, never saw it.

EC: Do you know who Richard Nixon is?

JN: Richard Nixon was a pin-up girl, I believe, in the 1810s.

EC: Correct. When you see The Magician come up in a tarot spread what do you think?

JN: I’ve never pulled it.

EC: Really?

JN: Never.

EC: What would you say to someone else who pulled it?

JN: I’m more of a newb to this than you think. I’ve only done Tarot with you or pulled cards by myself, so I don’t know that I’ve ever discussed the Magician, and I don’t know much about it, talk about hashtag bullshitting. I just learn about the cards as I pull them. I like the look of it. I have a candle you gave me with the Magician on it. I look at that candle and think, “Damn, I wish I could pull that card.” I’d fucking love to pull that card.

EC: Well, you are that card. You are a person who has everything in their possession already to make something out of nothing. You can turn a trip to Ikea into a very fun adventure. 

JN: You know what? I could do that.

(Justin’s husband, Bobby, is unpacking boxes in their new Palm Springs house while we do this interview). 

Bobby: You really want us to go to Ikea.

EC: I do think you should get some stuff from Ikea.

Bobby: Sometimes you need to manifest higher than Ikea.

EC: Fine. Justin, I see you as a person who can turn anything into fun. Does that occasionally wear on you?

JN: No.

EC: It brings you joy?

JN: People think it wears on me. People sometimes say, “Aren’t you exhausted by this?” Or in a workplace setting, “You don’t have the time to be doing this. It’s going to cost you. You’re gonna be the one sitting and rewriting things later by yourself.” But I genuinely value the momentary enjoyment that I get from having fun with other people. The feeling that we’re people alive at the same time having a good time together. That’s worth it to me to put the time in later to have had the experience. It’s just an ingredient in the soup. It’s a necessary part of it. It’s the broth.

 EC: The broth.

JN: That’s the only thing I know about soup. I don’t touch the stuff. My favorite soup is a french fry.

EC: Yesterday I had a french fry salad.

JN: We also had a french fry salad the day before.

EC: We’ve been eating salad all week.

JN: “Potato salad please, fried and cut into cylinders.”

EC: Do you remember our first date?

JN: I do. Our first, our only… for now.

EC: Life is long.

JN: We had a spark at a party.

EC: No. I said, “I have an enormous crush on you.”

JN: Well that’s the best way to spark with me. Then, we made plans to meet up. I started to get into costume, and by costume I mean putting on the attitude of a person who’s going on a date. 

EC: That’s so cute.

JN: And I think I bought us coffees because I thought that’s what you do when you’re in college and you’re on dates. Anyway, I saw you like a vision walking from the distance as I was curating my pose. You walked up and told me that you had just fainted in an elevator and hit your head because you had gotten an AIDs test but don’t worry, you’re a virgin.

EC: And you were in love?

JN: No, I think that’s when I knew I was gay. 

EC: You were like “Women be crazy.”

JN: "’Tis dicks and butts for me."

EC: Thanks for this interview. I love you.

JN: Love you.

Book Recommendation:

Make Your Art No Matter What: Moving Beyond Creative Hurdles by Beth Pickens. A reminder that you already have everything you need to make your art. And the world needs and wants you to make it.

Here’s this week’s Magician playlist:

Who’s the Magician in your life? What songs would you add to this playlist? Let me know in the comments!

And be sure to subscribe. Next week, we'll meet the intuitive and mysterious High Priestess…