Six Years In.

Its been six years of having It's Such a Good Feeling, and this is where I'm at:

I live in DC. I always walk up the escalators from the metro because ain't nobody got time to ride them. I love the city life--walking everywhere, good restaurants, all types of people.

I've been listening to all the Harry Potter audiobooks. Today I was walking down the street grinning like a fool because it was the Yule Ball and it was the first little glimpse of Ron and Hermione.

I'm about to graduate with my masters. This is not a drill. You will see pictures of me in the funny robes in less than 3 months.

Before then, I have 9.5 more weeks of internship, and two 20-page papers.

Current favorite thing to eat is bacon, egg, and blueberry bagel sandwiches.

I just got to the point where I felt like I could wear high heels in everyday life, but then I decided that it's ridiculous to do that to your ankles for no reason.

I finally enjoy doing jigsaw puzzles.

My niece Zaley is my love, light, and joy.

Instead of watching a new show, I'm just rewatching 30 Rock.

My favorite color is orange.

When I grow up, I want to be a cabinet secretary or an economist. I want to have a husband that I share child care responsibilities with and I want to be rich enough to own a beautiful row house.

I don't really write anymore, and I don't know why that is. I promised myself so many times that I wouldn't be one of those people who let my blog die. It'll never die, maybe just fade away someday. Not yet, though.

Here's to being six.

Surely he hath born our griefs.

What was it like when Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane?

Maybe it was like when you squeeze your eyes shut hard and you can see colors. In some kind of time dilation where ages and ages pass in a single minute, the colors must have burst and fought each other in rapid succession across the black backdrop.

Rage that makes your whole body tense, scorching red diagonal lines. Electric purple fear that ripples out from the epicenter, paralyzing you. 

Deep blue sadness that cascades from head to foot. 

A moment of shimmering gossamer white peace. 

A growing black cancer of shame that eats its way out of the corner. Blinding yellow confusion in great dots that blur the whole view.

Blistering orange ecstasy that flares up in a sheet from bottom to top.

Cold grey scratches of betrayal across the whole field of view.

Cool strokes of periwinkle love from left to right and right to left.

Raw pink exhaustion as wide as eternity.

His body must have been racked with hideous spasms as he languished in a heap, just letting this unending blast of emotions take him over.