Wednesday, December 29, 2004

J.J. Lets hit 'em quick before they wonder what the hell that was.

This trip home was supposed to be all about the boys. It was gonna be a good old bonding Christmas where we could all get together, drink beers, tell stories and do whatever it is we do best. But something about this trip has been way different. Somewhere in my new sleeping schedule which only includes waking hours from 12PM to 3 AM things didn't quite go as planned. This trip became all about the ladies. So many ladies. And they just keep coming out of the woodwork. My phone rings at least 10 times a day and my thumbs can't keep up with all the text messages. Honestly people, my world has been turned upside down. All these sweet little girls are women. Full-blown women. And sexy women. And they're calling me. Me. Little old me. Only I'm not the little old me I used when I was around them. Nope. Somewhere between those first days getting pushed around the high-school like the invisible man and a year one the east coast and a year back here and another competing around the world I became something else. It wasn't just my mind that grew.

And now they won't stop calling. I make fun of them. I treat them like dirt. I walk all over them. But they keep calling. And I'm out every night until 3 AM. And in 12 hours I have to be at the airport to fly and see the G2K. For way too many days. Somehow I got suckered into staying from the 29th until the 5th. And all these girls are gonna be gone before I get back. Bad call on my part. Very very bad call. The good/distressing news is that this will certainly be it for the G2K. I can't think of anything that would make me stay with her after this trip. And yet still I bought her a $75 Christmas present. What the fuck?

I gotta self-actualize. It's the "be all you can be" Minus the army and plus the sorority house and multiply that by my IQ. Uh-oh. 3:08 AM and there are incoming text messages. Woody Allen. That's what they call me. A hot, sexy Woody Allen. Not that I look like him. It's the inside. My brain. Always whirring away about itself. Picking me apart when I should be rolling around with the sorority girls. One girl slapped me in the face.
What the hell did you do that for?
Kid, sack up. You work in a sorority.
So?
Those girls must adore you. They will bend over backwards. Literally. And trust me, any girl who will get in that position for you deserves to be taken up on her offer.

So self-actualizing. I got 6 days 2000 miles away. And then it's back on the bull. Back on top. You with me?

Friday, December 17, 2004

I got bitchslapped across the face. And the truth was I probably deserved it. It knocked some good sense into me. Cause For some reason I was whining about all the adventures being over. About somehow I'd managed to get myself stuck with a one-way ticket to the rest of my life with no detour or layover or shortcuts. The fun was all behind me and the dreary was ahead, I told him. And he slapped me. And I bounced out of the rut. He asked "who can blog?" and I told him Anyone with a computer and internet and some miniscule command of the english language (though that is debatable). Then he asked, who can control their own future? And I frowned. Then I cocked one eyebrow. Them I may have looked constapated. But I replied, anyone with a life and a soul and a dream. He stood motionless for another moment, staring at me without so much as a twitch until he turned and stepped right into another conversation. And I was left chewing on my own words.

Left to ponder my fate I was summoned to spend the evening with one of my new roomate (as of next week). He refuses to play the game. He thinks he's noble. He thinks he's above the game. But there's a sad truth. Everyone plays the game. You either learn to play it or you lose before you even get your pieces in play. I gotta teach BB to do the balancing act. Between what you hold true to yourself and what you let everyone else know.

it's 2AM, I'm getting woken up again. I'm covered in rain and soon there will be too much sun coming in. A life, a soul, and a dream.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Oh internet, you took it all to a whole new level. All of these people right here in my bedroom. At 1AM. I knew I couldn't let you go. So what if you give us ADD? So what if my friends have to abuse illegal Aderol perscriptions just so they can pull themselves away from you long enough to study for finals. I know what you are. I know what Iv'e got. And the song I've had on repeat for the last 3 hours tells me to "hold onto whatever you got baby. Hold on to whatever will get you through." And you brought me that song too. Internet I love you.

But why did you hide blogs from me for so long? I remember that first day I discovered blogs. Thank god my friend sent me to the right place. The first Blog I ever read was Tony's Busblog. I read and read and I read until I didn't think I could go any further back in time. And then I used Tony's neverending blogroll to link and link and link until infinity. Thank god I ended up at the Busblog first, because to be honest, if I had stumbled onto the crap most of you pass of a blogs first, I probably wouldn't still be around. Blogs are a fad right now. That's cool. I'll hold out. Cause I'm not writing you about what I did today or who I banged last weekend (by the way, her boobs weren't real) and I am definitely not scouring the net for breaking news. Oh no. This is something bigger. This is a revolution. Brougth to you in http:// living color.

Monday, December 13, 2004

Doesn't the G2K realize that I can't be satisfied with her? Doesn't she understand that if I decided she was it and this was it and I knew that she was what I wanted, all of this would come crashing down around us? My entire universe is constructed on the basis of dissatisfaction. I have to be dissatisfied with where I am and what I'm doing and who i'm with. Becuase that's the only way I keep going. That's the only way I make it to tomorrow. It lets me keep my dreams alive. If I let myself be satisfied it means I'm settling. And settling means letting go of all those childhood dreams. That maybe one day you'll be president or an A list actor or a professional kite-surfer or a rock star or whatever it is that the poster on your old bedroom wall used to mean to you.

And now you're sitting in an office behind a desk and thinking that you have a job and the money you want and maybe you even have a house and a wife and a kid. And you're telling yourself that dreams are dreams and you weren't supposed to end up being something greater anyway. That there's something great about being comfortable. And I say fuck that, you settled. You let your dream die. OR you weren't willing to peek over the edge, close your eyes and take that step forward. And now I sit here with one final left and I'm probably looking back at a semester of straight A's and late night phone calls to the G2K. And I'm looking forward at an intership with a big magazine and maybe a job offer following that which would set me up pretty nice. But what I really want to do is jump out the side window. I want to hit the eject button and pack my bags, hit the road and drive the car down to that little piece of land my friend owns on the coast in Baja. Surf like a manic, bring my guitar and not leave until I bleed he blues and hone my acting skills. Meet some D.C. contacts I'll need for my presidential run and star in a fer indie flicks that will get my face noticed in hollywood. Kite-surf until I get invited to the pro circuit and fly around the world to find the best wind and waves. And then, maybe then, when I've seen the globe and spend my four years in office and jammed on stage with John Mayer and co-starred with Kevin Spacey then I can call up the G2K and be real. Tell her what I want to tell her. That I'm still not satisfied so lets do it all again.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Through The Wire

I made an oath to myself right before I entered journalism school: that I would never work in a newspaper unless I was writing editorials. I just don’t want to work for a newspaper. I don't care enough. Truth is I'm a pretty selfish bastard. Too selfish to write about what is going on around me. That's why I want to write for a magazine. Where I can write about myself in different situations. About what I saw and how I felt and what I like. not about a car accident or a political protest or ay of that shit. That's also why I love this blog so much. Because I can blow my head up so big it's hard to even fit it in front of my computer screen.

It's official, NYC to open 05. That city will probably end up being my home base come summer time. We'll see when it rolls around. I move into a new place when I get back. Fucking far from school. But I'm sick of the quiet life. So I'm livng into a house with 3 of my boyz and 1 of my girlz. I'm scared to give up the silence of solitude that I revel in during the few hours I get at home but this is it. It's the last time I'll ever get the chance to live with my friends in such large quantities. I'll be living alone for the rest of my life so why not mix the hard livin with the crystal sippin?

Today the Grammy nominations rolled out in LA. The hype is all about Kanye West. 10 noms including best album and I stand by him. He is the first to really bring rap right into the heart of this white boy. College Dropout is the kind of music that will truly bring rap to the masses. The kid has got some street cred. The biggest disappointment of the noms was seeing John Mayer get a nod for Daughters. The song is the biggest sell out track and lest musically interesting song he has ever released. But the kids eat that shit up. I love where music is going these days. There's some really talented musicians coming up. Not all of them, mind you, but there's plenty of kids who know their shit. So at least I can get 1 good song in every hundred on the radio. These are the ones that we gotta lift up on our shoulders. One day all you are going to pick me up on your shoulders and lift me into greatness. You just don't know it yet. Determination, dedication, motivation I'm talking to you my many inspirations. I'll never ever let you down.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

In case you all have forgotten I'm studying journalism. and I hate it. don't get me wrong, journalism is great. I love the blogs and I read the New York Times religiously. It's great. But to learn journalism is like taking stupid pills. I call my class "101 ways to suck the life out of your writing." journalism shouldn't be learned in the classroom, it should be learned in the nwesroom. So I have turned my journalism classes into an intensive creative writing workshop. I'm creating chraracters and events and suspicious deals and all the kinds of news you really want to hear.

Journalism ethics? Fuck it. If Dan Rather is walking out on CBS after reporting on TRUE information in FALSE documents than fuck you America, I want nothing to do woth journalism. Maybe I need to jump into the PR side. Everyday my reporting class gets out at the same time as that advertising class next door and I watch all the fugly reporters walk out of my class with their heads down while next door the beautiful sorority girls strut out laughing and smiling and practicing how they are gonna butter up all those corporate schmucks to fill 2/3 of the magazines with shit they want to sell you that you don't need. Maybe that's what I need to do. Sell the shit. Mkae the deals. Get the house and the cars and the vacations. And the sorority girls on the left and the right of me in class. Oh wait, I alreadt work in a sorority. I already know how to ge tthose kinds of deals done. Fucking advertising.

And that's a big rift that I've been seeing in my life lately. Fucking G2K wants the house like the one she grew up in. She wants all the stuff and she wants to give her kids all the things her parents gave her. And she wants to get started on that road right away. Tomorrow even. As soon as she can. She doesn't understand how good it can be to have dreasm you have to work for. How great dreams are when they are still dreams. Liek the ones I had of her before all this shit fell out. But she's got a plan. But not me. Oh no. I like the adventure. I like not knowing. I want to spend a few years doing the things I dreampt about as a kid. Maybe I'll live on a beach and maybe I'll live on a mountainside or maybe I'll live on the top floor of the playboy mansion, fuck it, maybe I'll live in the grotto of the the Playboy Mansion. I love not knowing. and I love taking chances. so I get in fights with the G2K and I meet a hot sorority girl with a tight body and nothing between the ears (well, she may have gotten into law but I'm convinced she is riding a two generation legacy). It's not about sex. It's Body games. You gotta play the body games. Play the game before you loose the little car and your kid swallows all the plastic hotels and you can't play anymoe. Cause I got to take chances. I gotta make mistakes. That's what you do when your in your early 20's. Or if your 100 and stuck in a 20 something's body. Especially if it's a hot one. Geronimo mother fuckers.