And did I mention that God's after me?

I haven't even gotten my mind fully around this idea, but on Saturday it occurred to me that God is after me: He will continue to thwart and frustrate my self-made plans at every turn.

I realized this when I was driving home from Ranger shouting "Why does everything I try to do have to end up sucking?" That also ties in with my last year of school, which, overall, has probably given me an anxiety disorder. In retrospect, the Fun/Not Fun balance was extremely off-kilter in the direction of Not Fun--which is to say, there were more parts of it that sucked than there were parts that were good. I don't know why. I'm still not entirely sure. But it occurred to me as I was driving home that, haha, maybe God is out to get me. And then I was like, Wait a minute: I think he really is. I mean, part of it is just that life sucks sometimes, and there's nothing you can do about it. But I also have a sneaking suspicion that God is purposefully thwarting me, at least in my mind, because he has other plans for me--plans far greater than the ones that I am currently creating for myself.

The flipside of this is that I realized that once I give in, I give in. There will be no more cute little plans for the future on my part; I will be accepting with both hands the blank slate that God keeps nudging me with. And he keeps giving me the urge to go get the Unity tattoo. Call this stupid, but my excuse for putting that off has been that I won't be able to hide it in a wedding dress, thus my Nana would kill me when I got married and she saw it, thus I can't get any tattoos until after I get married (which in my nicely-packaged little plans--the ones that God is always thwarting--would still be at least another year and a half away). So I could still ignore God and his blank slate for another year and a half, and afterward I would probably just go, "Oh, that was just youthful college indiscretion; everybody wants to do something rebellious when they're away from home. How droll." And then I would rationalize that nudging doubt away once more.

But here God is, nudging me with that frickin blank slate, telling me to go get a tattoo that says "Unity" so that I can't rationalize everything away and work back into a state of spiritual equilibrium anymore. That's why I had to smoke that cigar on Saturday night. I had to do something just enough out of the ordinary that I couldn't explain away that feeling of being pursued as just another passing fancy. I honestly feel that this is something God is calling me to--but once I go and do that, once I go and get that tattoo, there will be no turning back. I wonder if he didn't tell me to go get that first so that I would have to throw out all my neat little plans, all of which involve me waiting to doing anything until after I graduate or get married. Damn it.

So yes. God is out to get me.

Cold feelings in the night.

I have to be honest with myself: I've been depressed and listening to Social Distortion (hence the "Cold Feelings in the Night"). Not always a good combination. But I have to own up and admit what's been bothering me, because it's always something different.

1. I'm afraid that, in some way, shape, or form, I'm going to hopelessly screw up my relationship with Aaron beyond repair. Usually my thoughts taunt me from the direction of "what if you fall out of love with him?" And the resulting despair makes me hurt so much that it makes me sick to my stomach, which--ironically--proves that I actually do care (usually a sign of love--giving a crap what happens to the other person) and proves that I do indeed love him. But apparently I'm not even allowed to think such thoughts, even though the conclusion I inevitably arrive at is that Aaron is so much a part of me and my life that I can't even separate him from my thoughts. And that's a good thing.

2. You can tell I'm depressed because I use big words. (Inevitably much?)

3. God is not holding out on me. I can't seem to get that through my head. Or am I just beating myself up over it, and then beating myself up for beating myself up? Am I just freaking out because I'm freaking out? Am I just depressed because I'm depressed?

4. I worried last night that the salad days were over, that here on out it's always going to be this way: Me literally worrying myself sick. Things always seem so much better in retrospect. If only my vision in the present were as clear as my hindsight. Then life would be perfect, huh?

5. But what is perfection? Just another thing I've subconsciously strived for my whole life? No, not even my whole life, there has been a period where I didn't care. Life was life, not a means to the end of perfection. And things haven't changed, my perspective has just unknowingly slid back into how it was before ... ?

6. God will come through for me. He is not holding out on me, and he will come through for me in the end.

7. And at the same time, this is just a rough patch. It happens in life. Maybe today in particular is just a bigger crack in the patch of rough asphalt that I'm going through on the Sidewalk of Life, but either way, there's good patches and there's bad: and they're both life just the same.

8. Furthermore, I know that I tend to respond to things with (1) Pessimism/depression; (2) Beating myself up for said pessimism/depression; (3) Beating myself for beating myself up; (4) Freaking out; (5) Freaking out over freaking out; (6) Getting depressed over the whole process; (7) Getting depressed because I can't even keep myself from getting depressed ... et cetera.

Et cetera is just fun to write out.

But see, what happens next, right, is whenever I manage to cheer myself up, Hatin' Brain (the part of my brain that hates on the rest of me) is like, "Ohhhh, but what about UNRESOLVED ISSUE X?! Shouldn't you have had that one figured out three days ago and been skipping around in spiritual daisies ever since?" And I think that because Hatin' Brain is incredibly cynical, doubts everything, and is almost always in a bad mood, it must be right. Because clearly nothing that is happy has any truth in it. (Hey ... I should start my own philosophical school or something. =P)

Alll I can ever boil it down to is that it's all in my head--life doesn't have its jaws around my throat nearly as much as I tend to believe it does; it's just how I perceive things. And that's a small comfort, but sometimes I wonder if it's the right way of looking at things.

There I go again! The "right" way! There is no right or wrong way to life. There is living. It's a pretty inclusive term, whether I like it or not. Fact of the matter is that tomorrow doesn't functionally exist, my thoughts don't exist outside of my own head, and despite the cold nasty weather it's a miracle that I'm alive and breathing. And shut up, Hatin' Brain, I'll never resolve the fear of losing Aaron.

Ugh. I'm confused.

I'm feeling unproductive.

I should be doing homework, but instead I find myself listening to Madness and attempting to put posters on the walls (doesn't work too well, by the way, but smaller paper stuffs--flyers, the like--stay up pretty well). The warm weather and listening to the Skoidats on the way to church has given me the wanderlust, and on top of that, our current Bible study in the college group is over Epic by John Eldredge. Now it just keeps bringing me back to The Journey of Desire, and that deep and intense yearning to be part of something larger than myself ... to be part of a larger story (which is what Epic is about) ... to do ... something. It's like, in my brain, life doesn't start til after college. I think that's why I keep rushing myself to finish periodically ... my thoughts are hedged in terms of "I need to get this out of the way before I can do anything else."

You want to know something else funny? I don't have weird marriage paranoia when I think in terms of Journey of Desire or Epic. I ask myself the question, what is the deepest desire of my heart?--and I can feel it; I can feel the answer. Somewhere deep in there is the need to wander, the need to meet and reach out to people; and I definitely want Aaron to be there with me. There's none of those lingering cultural questions like "but what if he isn't THE ONE?" Fact of the matter stands, I don't give a rat's ... backside ... if there even is such a thing as "THE ONE," because even if there is, Aaron's the person I want to be with. Well, that makes sense in my own head. Anyway.

In any event, I've realized that I don't want to "grow up," settle down, get married, have kids, you know the drill, just because it's what I'm supposed to do. There's nothing wrong with any of those things, and I'm not throwing out the idea that I'll ever do them. But I absolutely refuse to do it because it's what I'm supposed to do. I'm not going to get married because it's a cultural rite of passage that I absolutely have to go through, so I might as well pick the least offensive person for the job; I'm going to get married, when I do, because I want to.

What is the deepest desire of my heart? ... I can feel it, but I can't explain it. And at this point, I wish that it would come about sooner--I have a deep and intense longing for it. Aaaargh.

And on that note:

I feel the burning need to make fun of the e-mail that she sent me that one time. Hooray!

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: chloeDate: Jul 30, 2007 1:45 PM
this is so awkward but ummm on your profile and onn aaron's it like says ya'll are together how long has this been going on because like umm some stuff like happened this summer and i hope you two just barely started going out other wise i feell really bad about this whole situation so like message me back so i can figure out whats going on aarons messing with one of our heads and i need to figure out which one of ours it is ok??sorry again lol

Thought 1: Holy crap, how old do you think I am, twelve?

Thought 2: Who takes the time to write "umm" in an e-mail?

Thought 3: Same question, this time regarding "like."

Thought 4: A drunken one-armed monkey named Jimmy the Wonder Ferret could type better than you, and he's on edge because he's about to go to rehab. What's your excuse?

Thought 5: ... was the most sarcastic e-mail that I've ever written:

From: Emily
Date: Jul 30, 2007 4:31 PM


So.

Hello.

Just so you know, I don't believe a word of this crap. Never have, never will. It's not even worth the effort of trying to convince me. =P In case you didn't notice, I'm a grown woman who doesn't subscribe to juvenile MySpace getting-back-at-someone-else gags. In all honesty, there are two things about this whole prepubescent attempt at revenge that really make me angry: One, you were trying to mess with Aaron. That by itself pisses me off to no end, as I get pretty touchy when people screw around with the people I care about. Two, on top of trying to destroy the life of someone I love, you tried to do it through me. What do you take me for, a twelve-year-old? Did you really think that you could manipulate me that easily? I'm insulted that you think that I'm that stupid. Actually, come to think of it, I'm almost impressed that you're so shallow that you thought you could use me to get back at Aaron in some way. Wow.

So ... yes. Before the sarcasm gets truly biting, I will end this e-mail with: Just leave us alone. I'm insulted that you really thought that you could get back at Aaron by sending me e-mails full of your nonsensical, juvenile, lying, entirely fictional ... sweet mother o' mercy ... I can't think of any other adjectives that aren't full of expletives. And I'm not going to sink to that level. =P Whatever the case, leave me out of your twelve-year-old mind games. They clearly don't work on me.

Nice doing business with you.

... Emily

And oh yes. While I'm thinking about it: Don't try that "It was all a mistake" crap on me, either. I, being a girl myself, know how we think, and that was a very deliberate action on your part. Thanks to this whole episode, I will never believe another word that comes out of your mouth ... as if I would've in the first place.

And don't you talk smack about Aaron around me. I will not hesitate to kick yer butt. I'm pretty sure that I've got half the city of Abilene on my side, too. So, back off.

And learn to spell.

And learn another word beside "like."

Happy holidays to all.

("You were feeling really bad about this whole situation" ... oh my ... good god ... how manipulative can you get? It really floors me every time I read this. Did you think that you could play me like some kind of game? Did you really think that low of me? Some advice, my friend: Get a job. Get a hobby. Whatever you get, get off MySpace.)

Thought 1: ... that is single-handedly the most sarcastic piece of communication that I've ever written. If I hadn't been in such a blind rage I probably would've just cussed a lot. As it was, I think that my apparent calm scared the piss out of her, because she tried to pretend like nothing had ever happened:

yes mistakes take place somewhere in this picture you look alot like a girl I know rather well so my mistake.....her MIDDLE name is emily and I thought she was trying to run from me.....trying to subclude herself in some manner......but I didnt even look at you pictures this whole deal is NOT my fault, I told my friend about the ordeal I was in she knew my myspace password and I didnt write any of this stuff......I dont know how it came to be that you AND your significant other got mixed up in this I am sorry to the fullest about this situation what ever damage has been caused by these words I am sorry I take responsability for what has happened because I was stupid enough to let someone know my password I am confused on what all has been said....Im not asking you to forgive me or anything I just wanted to clear things up

have a good life high hopes for you and your loved one-Chloe

Thought 1: ... pretty sure that "subclude" isn't a word. Good try, though. Attempting to sound smart so that I would think that we had something in common. FAIL!

Thought 2: Once again, the drunken monkey can write--and lie--better. Your excuse about a friend having your MySpace password is complete BS. Oh yes, and so is "her MIDDLE name is Emily." Kudos for a lie so transparent that, if you used it as a sliding glass door, birds would fly into it on sunny days. I'm impressed ... at your stupidity! Bahaha!

Maybe I should lay off this for a while. I'm starting to get really smarcastic. =P Oh well. It made me feel better.

I do have to add, though ...

... that I've always wanted to go on Stormy's (Aaron's distant ex) MySpace page and write, "Your poetry is trite and cliched! Try using a metaphor instead of a simile every once in a while! And for God's sake, everyone your age has written an America-sucks-so-hard poem ... at least write about something original!"

But then again, I don't really care, because (as I've mentioned before) she doesn't even appear on my radar anymore. Every now and then I remember when she created the fake MySpace page, and then I remember how much I want to go make fun of her poetry. The least she could do is use halfway decent grammar.

Maybe I'm just bitter because she has 5.3 billion friends who all fawn over her terrible poetry because they wouldn't know good literature if it latched itself onto their right legs and called them all George, while clearly I'm a literary genius who is much more deserving of their praise and adoration. Yeah, I think that's part of it. Stupid subconscious jealousy. Oh well. At least I can laugh at it, I reckon. =P

Life and stuff.

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

So come to realize that things have gotten out of hand again; I had my entire life--or at least enough of it to seem like my entire life--planned out again, and how hollow and unsatisfying it was. Or maybe the problem is rather that it was entirely too satisfying. I wrote it down in my notebook during Methods--that's how eerily planned out it was:

1. Graduate from Hardin-Simmons in December of 2010 with a bachelor's (BBS) in theology and a Spanish minor and get a job as a youth minister, or some other steady one in the church, or at least find a steady job relating to the Spanish minor.
2. Get married in March or April of 2011 and move with Aaron to wherever he wants to finish school, where hopefully I'll have the steady job mentioned in point 1.
3. Rinse and repeat. (?)

So my life has been reduced to a set of instructions that could be printed on the back of a spiritual shampoo bottle. And the scary thing is that the idea that I have to be Uberchristian--the perfect Christian--has reared its ugly head once again and caught me hook, line, and sinker without my noticing it until now. Because while going through points 1 through three, I'm also supposed to: have perfect doctrine, apply it perfectly in my life, have perfect Christian discipline all the time and be perfectly content with it.

Where the hell has life gone?

In finding my life--in planning it all out--I lost it--the freedom to live in Christ, here and now, to enjoy the life that God has given me. Somehow I started clinging once again to the idea of the Uberchristian, that I'm 100% perfect 100% of the time or I'm no Christian at all.

Good lord. It's the Emily Miculkaitis flaring up again.

That is the exact language of Emily Miculkaitis. I can point you, or myself for that matter, toward things I wrote in freshman and sophomore years of high school that say exactly the same thing: "I feel like I have to be 100% perfect 100% of the time." And I had so discounted the Emily Miculkaitis since WorldChangers, thinking that I'd defeated it once and for all, that it never even appeared on the radar as the source of these problems. Aw, crap.

Well, at least once you see something for what it really is, it no longer has any power over you. Funny thing, deception. When you realize that you're being deceived, you're not deceived anymore.

I haven't blogged since dinosaurs ruled the Earth.

I'm so ridiculously busy that I haven't even had time to write about how ridiculously busy I am. Pretty much, I go to class from 9 t0 5, go to work from 5 to 9, and then come back to school and do homework until midnight (or 2:30, it depends how much homework I have). The first time I got out in a while, just for the heck of it, was when I hung out with Caitlyn on my birthday. I think that I need to get out more. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy, or Emily a dull girl, or however you want to put it. Seriously. "Srsly guysh!"