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!