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I am on the plane from Pittsburgh to Phoenix. I’m in a daze right now. I’m tired, fidgety, but fulfilled. It’s been a wonderful weekend, and now it’s the grind back across the country.

It’s so exciting to look out at a group of 2000 teens with their fists in the air, vowing to live their faith. This is the third or fourth Steubenville Youth Conference (South in Atlanta, West in Attleboro, South in Louisiana, and West in Tuscan) and each is a memorable experience. I look at the faces of the mob there and I remember my first conference…what a powerful, life-changing experience!; It’s reminds me of the videos of live concerts in the 80s. There were countless number of people swaying their arms. Oh so cool.

So the last journal I wrote was from a coffee shop at Columbus Circle near Central Park. After that, I headed over to St. Paul Cathedral to pray. I have so many warm memories from Mass at that Cathedral. Then I was off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Before I the doors opened for the morning, Pat gave me a call.

I met him at his office in Times Square, and we went downstairs to grab breakfast at the Frank Ghery-designed cafeteria. That place is just so cool. Then I headed across the street to 1515 Broadway (MTV) to meet Darshen, my stylist friend. It was fun to be back in the studio. They were shooting an episode of “Say What Karaoke,” so the place was hoppin’ with enthusiastic kids.

Darshen and I headed down to Urban Outfitters to buy some clothes for the shoot. I met Darshen a few years ago in a Real World photo shoot, and we’ve been friends ever since. Actually, the first time we talked was at the New Orleans Zoo. The dressing room was set up behind the reptile exhibits. There were snakes pecking on the glass while we got to know each other. It was an odd day.

On the way back to the MTV studio, we grabbed a cup of coffee and walked through drizzle. It’s been the rainiest June in NYC history. But, living in Phoenix now, I loved every drop. We said goodbye and I grabbed a cab to the airport.

My driver was an old and kind, smooth-talking black man from Alabama. He has thirteen brothers and sisters, and a few kids of his own. He and his wife met in Harlem in the 60’s, and got married. I learned more about Harlem at it’s high, and I told him about my experiences living there.

For just six hours in New York, I sure did have a good time. The quick hop from New York City to Pittsburg was uneventful. On my out of the plane, I met Trachelle from the Real World Las Vegas, just two rows behind me. We had a good time getting to know each other on the way to the baggage claim. I didn’t catch any episodes of her season, but it was comforting to meet someone who’s been through the same things as me. It looks like I’ll see her in a couple weeks on my next adventure.

I took a short walk through Central Park. I didn’t mind the rain, or dragging my suitcase behind me. I prayed that God would give me a “divine appointment” today…someone I need to talk to or something like that. I want to have faith that He’ll do it, but at the same time, I can’t expect a performance on every whim. I saw a flower on the dirty sidewalk. I washed it off in a puddle and tucked it into my shoulder strap. It’s going to be a wonderful morning in Manhattan.

I am sitting in Starbucks on Columbus Circle in Manhattan. It’s 64 degrees outside and cloudy, cool. There’s a sign blinking the news and five-day forecast across the street. “What you want, baby I got it…a little Respect” has gotten everyone in here nodding their heads while the coffee machines screech in the back. People are scurrying around outside to dodge the rain while machines dig beneath the street. What a wonderful morning in New York!

Tonight I’ll be at the Franciscan University of Steubenville in Ohio. I’ll be giving a talk about the face of Jesus. I’m excited to talk about something different, something I am not comfortable talking about. Two years ago I was sitting in this same chair and edited a book.

So much has changed. I feel so much more at peace now. My life is healthy and balanced.

I just called my buddy Pat, and I don’t know why he’s not up yet. I would’ve made it into the city last night so we’d rollerblade all night, but it was raining.

I used to go to Mass just down the street from here at St. Paul’s. There was the cutest flower shop down the street there, and I’d always go in to enjoy the atmosphere.

If Pat doesn’t wake up soon, I’m going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see a show. I only have four more hours until my plane takes off, and none of the hotels will check my bags. They haven’t checked bags since 9-11. So I am hoping I’ll be able to check them at the door before I go into the museum. I had the most wonderful time typing on this very laptop in the coffee shop at the Met. The marble floors were so shiny, and the ceilings so high. I never felt like I was in a city.

I have to work on my talk now.

But before I do that, I want to talk about this new Third Day CD I am listening to. Track number eleven is the most beautiful praise medley: “Turn your eyes upon Jesus…Give Yourself Away…I will lift my voice to worship you my God.” How wonderful would it be if everyone in this city would drop their newspapers, briefcases, open their windows and all sing together. The thought of Central Park filled with people singing praise songs…just makes me want to cry.

That’s not happening now, so I’ve got some work to do.

I didn’t even know I was going to New York. Kathleen called and asked me why I wasn’t at the JFK airport in New York. I didn’t know if I should believe her. Why should I be in New York on Wednesday morning?

Well, I was supposed to be there and I was not. There are hundreds of reasons why I forgot, but I just forgot. This sucks for a variety of reasons, but mostly because this is the first event, then I fly to another, and to another…

I am waiting in the airport now, gazing at the sun setting out the window. I am supposed to be having dinner with my friends on the other side of that mountain. Will I even get on this flight?

The past couple months have been insanely busy. I love it! I just love having things going on. It’s not hard to live an exciting life. It’s just as easy as living a boring life. You just got to do it.

While I was in New Hampshire a couple months ago, the priest gave me a book called “Shorter Book of Prayer.” I’ve been so strung out since then, I open it up every day hoping for salvation. I just love it. I look at the leather bound book, and I get warm fuzzies, like I have a crush or something. It’s wonderful!

I’ve been working out hard. My clothes are feeling different, and I’ve gotten so much stronger. I don’t know why I’ve waited this long to start working out again. I always feel so much better when I know I am in shape.

This journal is quickly becoming a conversation with a friend. I don’t see my friends much anymore b/c I’ve been getting ready for the Road Rules Challenge. I know this will all be over soon, but I’ve got to give it all I have.

I hope I can post this before I leave for wherever they are taking me.

I’m on a quick flight from Southern California to Phoenix. I can’t see the ground because the smog is so bad. It’s horrible! I couldn’t believe it…an hour from Los Angeles, and the horizon is smoggy. The sky is only blue when you look straight up.

Yesterday before my talk I walked around Alta Loma. It’s a beautiful area, nestled right up to the mountain. I walked the streets up the mountain and spun around to catch a view of the city. It was just smog. It was like looking into a puddle of milk.

How messed up is that? People live the high life, driving big fancy cars to their palatial homes on the mountainside. They pay millions for the views, and now they can’t see anything because of the exhaust from their neighbor’s big fancy cars. I don’t know if it’s poetic justice or pitiful.

There were some wonderful teenagers at St. Peter and St. Paul last night…such prayerful, faithful people. After a messed-up hike up the mountain, they really gave me hope for the future.

Last night Dustin and Christie came to see me after my talk. After six ties, we finally found a restaurant that had a heart to serve us food. They handed us a greasy bag of fried food and locked the doors. We sat down on outdoor tables and caught up on what’s been happening since they’ve moved out here from Phoenix. It was such a good time catching up. Wow…we’re already setting down in Phoenix. I better turn this off before another flight attendant yells at me. (This happens to me at least twice a week.)

I broke down today. I am still broken. I’ve got one last shot and it’s an impossible mission. I don’t know if I can do this. Dear God.