I'm feeling miserable. Anxious, depressed, frustrated, angry, lonely and miserable all around. I think I'm going to lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling and get wet cheeks.

Ode to Keith's "Bible Gateway"

So my bahvior last night got me thinking about what Christian guilt really is. I felt just that last night: guilty. At lunch I didn't want to say "guilty" because when a Christian says they feel guilty I usually want to punch them and tell them they don't know what they are talking about and are more concerned with rules and Christian culture. Also, I want to punch non-Christians when they say that they don't like Christians because God forces guilt onto them. Anyway, I felt guilty. I had potty mouth and was vulgar. I think of those verses in Ephesians 5:
I wish I could paste....um, ya I can paste the whole thing. It's my blog:

1Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children 2and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
3But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people. 4Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving. 5For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a man is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. 6Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God's wrath comes on those who are disobedient. 7Therefore do not be partners with them.
8For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9(for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) 10and find out what pleases the Lord. 11Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. 12For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. 13But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, 14for it is light that makes everything visible. This is why it is said: "Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you."
15Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, 16making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. 17Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is. 18Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit. 19Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, 20always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.
21Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.

So me feeling guilty I think comes from a desire to speak to one another with psalms. Or rather how I interpret that, to speak to one another honestly and focused on what really matters-our relationship with God and each other. Sometimes I get so excited and want to make people laugh and essentially like me, so I say things that are absolutely outrageous. And I came home last night and felt almost fake and kinda dirty. People aren't going to see God in my life if I am making jokes about vaginas. And why do I want people to see God in my life? Well, I think because it's so important to me and I want to know what's really important to other people. I really miss talking about him. This verse says to be an imitator of God. Gladly...he kicks ass. And feeling guilty is a feeling I had because I was not being authentic or a person I am proud of. If a person cried because they were being honest about brokenness I would feel more fulfilled any day than to hear someone laugh about my period stories.

I don't know what the point of writing this is. Other than me just writing how I was feeling and to remind myself that I suck sometimes and have shit to work out.

I'm ready for some new Harry Potter. NOW!

POOP I SAY!

I feel like Carrie Bradshaw because I'm typing on a laptop in my underwear and drinking a beer cause it's so damn hot. Although my bra is too big cause my stupid boobs shrunk. Oh well. Anyway, I am leaving tomorrow. I am mostly disappointed about the food I am leaving behind and essentially the money I wasted on said food. For example, vanilla chocolate almond Haagaandaaaaas. Diet caffeine free coke. Banana nut bread. Cream cheese. Peanut butter. Mashed potatoes. Hot dogs. I am thinking that maybe I should bring them with me on the plane (minus the ice cream and beer and coke)? I would have reduced the amount of food had I not gone to the Phillips Collection where my aunt bought me a $7 chicken caesar wrap, and then had too much BBQ and desert at her home later. So I am trying to clear out the beer. No more ice cream though. I have pigged out on shit a wee bit these past 10 days. And ice cream two times in one day is a sacrifice I am forcing myself to make. Ya, I totally feel like a cow. Boobs don't fit the bra and the belly is all hanging out and my ass is hanging out of my boy shorts. Isn't that hot? I probably stink too cause I'm all sweaty. It was so damn hot today. My feet are killing me.

So at the Phillips Collection today was the first day of umm...what the hell was his name...john Kee? Jack Kee? Something Kee. Long story short, he is a shitty artist. Momma was not impressed at all. It's like, if I picked up a pencil and had some paper I could do the same damn thing, man. In one year he created on average 3 pieces a day. Does that explain anything? Also, nothing looked the same. I'm all for creativity and using different medias, but this was just a bunch of crap that looked like a college student trying to decide if they really wanted to be an artist, and if so, what the hell were they going to draw and with what? The brush strokes on his paintings were crap. You don't draw a mouth with one brushstroke unless you're cool. The only impressive thing about the guy was his ability to title his "paintings" and "drawings." Perhaps he should have been a writer.

Renoir, on the other hand, has his shit together, along with Degas. I just loved it. The one painting was the outdoor picnic one of Renoir's. It's amazing. You stand far away and the guy literally painted a shadow so it actually looks like it's the lighting in the room (it's not cause you can tell from the way he painted these two different dudes' arms). Momma likey. There was also a sculpture by Picasso that momma liked. It was called the Jester. I did not like his eyes. He reminded me of that guy from the OT that got his eyes dug out. Who the hell was that? Sampson? You know, the really strong guy who takes out the stone pillars? That guy. That blind strong guy.

Aw damn. It's 11:50 and I need to clean the bathroom and pack. Boo-urns. When is my flight? I have no clue. I'm remembering 1-ish. Meh....

So tonight I must say kicked some serious ass in terms of me conquoring my anxiety. Renae once encouraged me to write a letter to my panic attacks and to basically think of them as a person I am in a relationship with. How do they make me feel? It was rough and I cried. I told them to go away and that they made me hate myself. The reason I mention this is because if I were to write another letter tonight I would be like, "that's right be-atch!" what is it that Golum said? "We told him to go away and away he went!" Yikes, I am Golum. Anyway, so how awesome am I to not even had gas let alone a full blown panic attack with shitting every 5 minutes?! I didn't even feel nautious or light-headed and I don't think once I felt my heart begin to race! I didn't have to put up a fight and remain determined to win. Ladies and gentleman, no one but me could understand how liberating and awesome that last sentence is. Thank you Jebus. And thank you to me! I worked really hard. That's it. I worked really hard. And it took me a year. SO FUCK YOU!, you dumb panic. lol! YEA YEA YEA YEA!!!

I think I will run around in my underwear. Oh wait, already am! Uh oh, now it's 11:55 and I still have cleaning and packing. Hey, does anyone have any clue as to when I'm working? Eh...gross. Caribou...if I have to make one more damn drink I will poop on the blenders so no one will be able to blend until new, sterile blenders arrive. POOP I SAY!

I'm at Starbucks again. But I'm very uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. For one, I think anyone who wants can read over my shoulder. And two, you know what coffee does to a girl like me, right? Comes right out, that's what. So I went to the bathroom to fix the problem but you can't very well shit in a public bathroom if someone is sitting in there as well not making a peep, clearly also taking the advantage of a crapper. So I just flushed and left. Then I walked around a bit and came back and the lady with the orange shoes was still in there, silent as the grave. Lovely....

My cousin and his friend came over to the condo last night. It was great, although we got the security guard called on us. She's like, the guy downstairs called and said you guys were too loud. I looked behind me and was like, "um...we're watching a movie." She clearly knew the guy below was a tard but still had to do her job. Oh well, it definitely put a damper on the mood. Ok, so some back-up. My cousin is named Danny and I've always thought maybe the kid was a bit of a poser although he's funny and smart as hell. I couldn't believe what he looked like. He has half a shaved head, the other half is long and shaggy. He also has a rat-tail. He was wearing a black t-shirt and had a pack of cigarettes rolled up on one sleeve like the fucking Fonz. Then he was wearing these tight stone-washed tapered jeans from the 80s tucked into Rebok classic high-tops. What the fuck...seriously...Oh well. His friend, however, was mighty cute and normal looking. They have been best friends since before high school. We sat on the balcony for a while finishing up some wine and listening to music. After that we walked around for a bit and had dinner at Chi-pot. Mm!! But this is the same Chi-pot I went to when I went to American University. It is actually down the street from the condo. Every 15 minutes or so I would be like, I fucking hate hate hate this place. Everwhere I looked reminded me of something. Like the 7/11 reminded me of cigarettes, lunchables and bananas. On the way back we walked past my old dorm. It looked the exact same. Poor guys had to put up with my complaining and whinning. I needed to at least see it tho. And I'm glad I did. Now I never want to see it again. So then we went back to my apt and sat on the balcony for a while. Oh ya, we bought 2 bottles of wine. I almost bought this pomegranate marguarita mix but decided against it. So when we got back into the apt. I looked to see if we had any tequilla or marg. mix and lo and behold she had the exact same pom. mix and really good tequilla!!!!! Hot diggity! So we made drinks and I drank out of the blender. Those boys are hillarious and it was really nice just to be around people who make me laugh. I also got to share with them how I was feeling and just have fun. At Chi-pot I told them about op-ish and the bong language and we made up a new language called "ini." Basically, you put "ini" after every letter. So my name would be anini nini, dini, rini, eini, anini. The faster you say it the funnier it is. Then, holy crap, we watched Godzilla vs. MeccaGodzilla. And I think this is why we got security called on us. The movie was fucking outrageous and like an acid trip or holy shit I have no idea. I still am not quite sure if I was just dreaming or if I really did watch a movie where when the guy got shot in the face he turned into a man with a gorilla head. Did that really happen? Oh lordy, I don't know. After that we smoked again on the balcony and then they left. I had to wash the window sliding door because Danny ran right into. It was so funny. He's like, "I have never done that before in my whole life." I was laughing my ass off. It's not like he bumped into it, he walked full force into this door. Dumb ass. So I had to take out the organic and toxic-free window cleaner this morning and wipe off his grease marks.

This neighborhood is really ritzy. I don't feel like I fit in at all. It's weird because I live in a wealthy neighborhood at home so you would think I'd be used to it. But I'm not and really dislike it.

I talked to Mom yesterday. She told me to look into the mirror and smile and say out loud "I am happy." hahahaha! Ya, I definitely made fun of her for that. I'm feeling pretty discouraged about a job. Nothing is looking too promising and I can say I am doing my best to find something. The only thing that is is this shit data entry position. I would be miserable. I feel like I have no experience, no specialties, no real skills. I think I'm a good teacher and a great leader...so? Teach? Ya fucking right. And lead? Lead what? I just don't know. I realize having all the answers at this point in my life is pretty unreasonable but I'd at least like to have some sort of goal. And that's the trouble, I have no long-term goal. I love being on my feet running around. I love managing others. I like organizing and problem-solving. I'm a good worker. So what should I do? I need money too. I hate having nothing. I would take a crap paying job if I didn't have loans, or if I had a car and an apt. But I don't have an apt or a car and I have tons of loans. I do not want to live at home at all any more. I love independence. But I love my family. I think maybe moving to DC is a good long-term goal but maybe not yet? I don't know. I'm rethinking Chicago. I wish my dad would send me this guy's email address so I could pursue the World Vision position. A huge motivator to relocate to DC was pursuing a stronger more focused spiritual life. But now Heather and Amy and I, possibly Andie (haven't discussed it with her) are planning on meeting once a week. I miss that. And I think I could be honest and I think those women would pray for me and with me and support and love me. And I want to be that for them too. It's like in the OT when whats his butt's only job was to hold up Moses' arms. I feel like that is why I pray for people. Or rather, why I need to pray for other people. I can't make them hold up their arms if they refuse to, but I can support them when they get tired. The arms, not the person, hahaha.

So what should I do these last few days? I have plans Friday night. Family BBQ! WOOP Woop! Not nervous about that in the slightest. My mom's family is so awesome. They are brilliant and funny and the most down-to-earth people. They really care about me too even though we've always lived so far apart. Another reason I can't move to DC is Hollie. She needs me to help her plan a wedding. I would regret not being there for her to do all of that. Maybe God doesn't really give a shit what I'm doing. It's not like I'm getting married. It seems like a huge transitional period in my life but really, it's not, right? I don't think so. If you are faithful and obedient and surround yourself with opportunities to grow, how could he disapprove? I get really frustrated with the whole "purpose driven life" mentality. "Everything happens for a reason" blah blah blah blah. Oh really? I'm not too sure I buy that. Oh man I have to pee.

So I'm going to go down to the mall. Not like the mall but the MALL mall. I'd like to sit by the relecting pool dealy and read Hebrews. Oh man. gotta pee. bye.

Well hello hello. Here I am sitting at a Starbucks wi-fi spot. Wearing a wife-beater and a turquois bra. Pretty bitchin. This laptop just happened to be on the desk in the apt. I am sitting and I am hoping she won't mind me taking it a block to check email and remain part of the world I love. So I have been here, what? This is my third day? Today is....um...Monday! I got here Friday. So it's my third full day. Oh great, 4 little girls. I have fucking pre-teens. So let me tell you about DC:

DC is split up into lots of little neighborhoods. I'm not sure how Chicago is sectioned off but DC is cut up and each neighborhood has its own characteristics. Like if you live in Anacostia, you will probably get shot. And if you live in Glover Park/Fox Hall (where I unfortunately am) you will feel like you're in Beverly Hills. And if you're in DuPont Circle you will think you're in la la Gay Land. And if you're in Adam's Morgan you will think you're in Frat Land. The good thing is that the buses and the Metro fucking rule. And you can pretty much walk wherever you want. I myself have walked probably at least 6 or 7 hours in the past 2 days. Today it's flip flops and internet. I am pooped. The area I want to live in (which I walked all around yesterday) is called Mt. Pleasant. Hahahaha. Adam's Morgan is pretty kick ass during the day (I went there yesterday too) because the frat kids aren't out and you can enjoy your lunch at a nice little Mediterranean restaraunt. I will show pics of Mt. Pleasant. It looks very European with brick houses all connected on a hilly and narrow street. Trees and flowers everywhere. The other reason I love it is cause the neigborhood is very diverse. Mostly Hispanic, but there is a fairly large African American popluation and white population. It's nice too cause a few blocks away from the houses is a busy street with a ton to do. Well, not really. But you are close to Adam's Morgan if you want to drink, etc. The bad thing is that if I live there I will need a car. And I have no cars. Ok...what else?

I was supposed to have called my aunt back to hang out with them but I am afraid to. I am afraid I will have a panic attack and die. I am afraid that will happen if I get an interview too. That is why I wasn't very excited to come here in the first place. I was afraid I would have to confront my anxiety and fears head on in a way I haven't had to in a long time. I'm in a boring comfort zone at home and I don't have to do anything uncomfortable at all. But here, it's all new and I have no one to lean on. Oh ya, Jesus... Well, He sure isn't the best advice giver. I did get a Warren Wierserbe or whatever book on Hebrews. Coleman and Amy are listening to Chandler's sermons on Hebrews and in the past year I have shied away from the NT since I think Jesus isn't really who people say he is. So I wanted to do a study on Jesus and since I heard Hebrews is the shit (Hollie said it's awesome too) I got this book. And low and behold the title is "Be Confident," and it's all about faith. What I learned so far from the study (the first study) is that this book is written to second-generation believers who are being seduced by false teachers. And since they have doubt and since they neglect what they were taught by the dead first generation, they need a little chastening. Hot diggity, sounds like me a lot. I don't think chastening is such a bad thing at all.

So what does the rest of this week hold for me? Some touristy-whatnots. I've visited pretty much all the areas that I could consider living in. So now I think it's off to some museums. The shitty thing about that is that I want someone with me. It sucks running ideas by yourself. And if I have a question about a painting or notice something about it who the crap am I supposed to tell? It's a great thing to be moved and have experiences with yourself, like if I were to go to the Holocaust museum. But I don't think life is meant to be lived alone in, you know? Of course you know, everyone fucking knows that. I was thinking about this on the bus the other day. I am SO used to feeling lonely and only having me in my life. It's not unfamiliar at all. Like in Scotland I was alone a bit. And definitely when I was in DC the last time. And in college I did quite a bit alone. And then DEFINITELY when I came back from Scotland and had no friends and all I was doing was puzzles and model pirate boats (HAHAHAHAHAHA LOL!!!). It's just a very familiar feeling to me. It's a huge part of me. And you know what else? I fucking hate hate hate it. I like being an introvert and I love having alone time. But too much tends to be incredibly unhealthy for me because I become too introspective and too selfish. Can you blame me for being self-absorbed when I am always alone? It makes tons of sense I think. I think that also explains why I'm so damn weird. I really look forward to being married because I will always have someone to share things with. To never have to take buses alone or go to museums alone. Or to watch funny movies alone. By the way, I think I am going to see the da winky code all by myself. I just have to find when and where it's showing and then I will go see it by my lonesome. I read a review, sounds like pure shit. Oh well, good movie to see alone then, right? I should gain 200 pounds first and where a cat t-shirt and then go. That would be better, right? No. Not at all.

So I'm going to try to find a jobber and hit up some museums. And contine to drink ass loads of coffee. Bye bye

ps-heather send me the address of your blog since when i click on your name your blog link is not there. what the hell? so i cant read your news.

Alright, tell me if you think this woman looks like me.