You Rock My World

I have the best friends on the face of the earth, Alhamdulilah. I am so lucky and blessed to have so many people in my life who truly love and care about me with all their heart. Some I have known my whole life, some I have just met in the past few years. My words could never express to you how amazing you all are, and what you have done for me esp. in the past few months. I can say without hesitation that there are so many of you I could call at 3:00am just b/c and you would answer, let me talk, and then tell me to go back to sleep ;)

Not everyone gets the chance in life to build friendships like this. My word of advise is if and when you find people like this, never let them go...regardless of the stupid fights or disagreements, regardless if some of your beliefs differ, regardless if you sometimes don't see eye to eye (you can't expect people to be just like you, it will never happen) b/c people like this are hard to come by.

I find it amazing that I have friends I have known my whole life. These girls are like sisters to me. If you look at each of us, we are so different in so many ways, yet by some grace of God we have found a way to make it work. We have found a way to build bonds that transcend friendship. I would give my right arm for any of them.

From the depths of my heart, thank you for all you do. Thank you for making me laugh "I curse the day he was born", thank you for buying me a replacement bear when it was hard to throw away my other one, thank you for being my stand-in BF and calling me before/after work, thank you for pushing me to take Bar classes, thank you for standing up for me, thank you for recommending good books, thank you for coming home even though you didn't have to, thank you for coffee nights, concerts, summer fun and thank you for helping me realize what kind of person I really am and how much I have to look forward to. You have let me lean on you when I needed it the most and I couldn't be more grateful.

You All Rock My World

Ok on to the next thing, now that I'm done gushing my heart out (I know I know, I just can't help!). It seems I found a new love for reading Blogs. When I mentioned this to Farida the other night, she told me to check out John Mayers Blog (Um ya I can't wait to see him live on Sunday night, look out for a follow up Blog) and so I did. I came across this entry and loved it. I hope you enjoy as much as I do.

from the heart....03/27 by JM

I need to write this.

I've been traveling alone in Japan for the better part of three weeks now, and it's been so remarkable an experience for me that I can't book a ticket home yet. I haven't spoken very much out loud these days, but I've been thinking to myself in what feels like surround sound. I can see so many things clearly, and feel so connected to myself and the world around me that I need to share the perspective with you.

I'm already aware that when I sing, say or write anything, 50 percent of the response will be in support of it and the other 50 will want to discount it. This blog, though, is directed to 100 percent of people reading it. If my blog truly does have any cultural effect, then it should be used for more than just pictures of sneakers and funny youtube videos. (If you don't think my blog has any effect, than you can't by definition be reading this right now and therefore don't have to respond to it in any way. Isn't that tidy?)

What I'm about to write isn't about fame or success or celebrity or the media. That's my business.

This is about us all.

This is about a level of self-consciousness so high in my generation, that it's actually toxic.

This is about the girl in her bedroom who poses in front of the camera she's awkwardly holding in her outstretched hand. She'll take a hundred photos until coming up with one she's happy with, which inevitably looks nothing like her, and after she's done poring over images of herself, will post one on her myspace page and then write something like " I don't give a f*ck what you think about me."

This is about the person trying out for American Idol, who while going off about how confident they are that they were born ready to sing in front of the world, are trembling so badly they can hardly breathe.

This is about me, the guy who walks through a throng of photographers into a restaurant like he's Paul Newman, but who leaves a "reject" pile of clothes in his closet so high that his cleaning lady can't figure out how one man can step into so many pairs of pants in a week.

This is about a young guy who maintains a celebrity blog that subsists on tearing other people down but who has wrestled with a lifelong battle for acceptance as a gay man.

This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it's incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we're all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right. And I don't want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn't going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn't feel the negativity, but that's because I couldn't feel much of anything. And I think I'm done with that.

I'm not the first person to admit we're all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we're all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.

And really? Really? It turns out we're just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain't gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he's following ain't gonna be Bob Dylan. It's just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.

What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me.

Root for others.

Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.

Act nervous when I'm nervous, puzzled when I don't know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that. And when it's all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.

I'm going quiet now.

John