Well, technically it’s Montgomery County. It’s my last post as a DC blogger so bear with me.

It’s hard to believe that tomorrow ends my two-year excursion in our Nation’s Capital. I’ve thought about this post a lot, and there are so many things that I could say.

DC has been an incredible adventure. For me, this city will always be where I grew up and finally became an adult. Here, I fell into an awesome career and specialized in an emerging field. Learned how to survive completely on my own for the first time. Spent many sleepless nights earning a graduate degree. Realized that all the time I spent on Facebook and blogging could be used professionally. Met a group of incredible friends who became my urban family. Made some of the worst decisions of my life and some of the best. Learned how to survive the pain of having your heart broken and how that makes you a stronger, better person. Made a few people angry and/or laugh with this blog. Most importantly, however, I grew tremendously in my faith and started to understand that sometimes faith requires huge, blind leaps, such as this move.

While riding home on my last Metro ride on Wednesday, I thought back to when I first moved here, right before grad school (amazing how grad school completely changes you, isn’t it?). I was so happy to be in the District of Columbia. I mean, I was living in the same city as the President! and those awesome people that we elect to Congress! who are there to serve the good people of this country! Ok, maybe I wasn’t that naive, but I was so excited to be here.

On one of my first Metro rides, I looked around at all the bleak people on riding in the car. I couldn’t understand why they had such weary expressions. Wasn’t it just grand to be here!? I quickly tried to wear a world-weary expression in order to blend in. I didn’t want anyone to confuse me for a tourist or an intern.

At some point, that expression no longer took practice. It started coming naturally. That’s the point when I realized that I needed to move. Last spring, I remember having talking about “DC moments” with a few friends from grad school. We decided that you weren’t a jaded Washingtonian until you no longer felt awe or inspiration when gazing upon the Capitol Building or the White House. Treasure those moments. The daily grind eventually gets to you.

I admire the people who can live here decades without heeding the call to return home to be closer to family, roots or your community. These people can maintain their zest for living here. I am not one of those people. When God made me, he made a homebody who desperately loves Tennessee. It just took two years of living away from my hometown to realize that.

As sad as I am to leave my urban family here, I’m excited about the future. When you’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to do, that knowledge trumps everything else.

So long DC. It’s been fun. I’ll be back soon. I promise.

According to the calendar, I roll out of DC one week from today.

I’ve been contemplating this move for so long that hasn’t felt real. Well, reality is starting to hit me…and I’m excited.

It’s not that I hate DC, or my life here is horrible. Quite the opposite in fact. However, I’m really excited about my new job and getting to do a lot of everything in communications. As much as I love social media, I have gotten too specialized the last few years.

I’m also excited to take part in the day-to-day existence of those that I love. It’s hard to keep up important relationships from a distance.

I’m not leaving DC forever. There’s a good chance that I’ll move back in a few years to pursue my PhD. In fact, moving back to Chattanooga will help me accomplish that. If I end up not moving back, DC is always a great place for vacations. I promise to be a model tourist and not stand on the left side of Metro escalators.

It is getting harder to say goodbye to friends. Last week, Pastor Chris at NCC prayed for me, and I just wanted to cry. Leaving my church family is the hardest thing about leaving DC. NCC has been an incredible experience.

The best part of this move is that I know 110 percent that this is what I’m supposed to do. That’s an awesome feeling.

I’m sure that after the reality of (temporarily) moving back into my parents’ house and the realization hits that everyone in Chattanooga over the age of 23 is married or engaged, I’ll have a few more things to say. As of right now, I’m excited for a new adventure in my old hometown.

Last Friday, the DC Roomie and I stopped by Giant to pick up a cookie cake for my going-away party. (We’ve been having random adventures lately). While waiting for them to personalize it, we had the opportunity to observe some of their creations. Camera phones are really dangerous in my hands.

I was scared, but you be the judge.

We started out by noticing this odd elephant. Something about it looks malicious. Discussion of the elephant led to all of these pictures.

I’m not sure what this is. Is it a cat? A bear? A devil? A devilish cat?

I think this is Blue from Blue’s Clues. Keep in mind that dark-colored icing stains your teeth. That’s a lot of blue icing.

The lion is kinda cute.

Not sure about this clown.

Then we turned around and saw these cookies, which look, well…umm… Now, I have an idea about what to serve at the next bachelorette party that I host. I’m still not sure what they’re supposed to be.

But this was the best cookie of them all!

Last night, I got free tickets to a Washington Wizards game. I’d never been to a NBA game, so I invited the DC Roomie and her boyfriend to the event.

First of all, I’m not the biggest basketball fan. I like free tickets, and I like sports. However, to me sports=football. Nothing else really exists. Thanks to the rigors of Berean Academy physical education classes, I at least graduated from high school understanding the basics of all major sports.

I’m not sure that I watched much of the game. There’s so much other stuff going on at NBA games that it was hard to focus. Must give props to the Verizon Center’s corporate sponsorship department. There’s hardly a surface in the arena without a corporate logo. Most of the game, I watched in fascination as ads changed on the jumbotron and the two projectors that lined the concourses. At some points, I was convinced that I’d have a seizure like those cartoons triggered on kids in Japan.

Then there was the dance squad. When the DC Roomie and I are together, we usually sit and mock the things around us. The dance squad was an easy target. Over the course of the night they went from the dance team to the dance ‘hos to the whore corps.

First, they came out with these 60s style unitards and white go-go boots. It wasn’t the worst dance team costume ever. The Roomie, a former dancer, noted that most of them were off count. We attributed that to dancing in those go-go boots.

Then, we wondered what they were called. Most teams call their dancers some feminine form of the team name. However the feminine form of “wizards” would be “witches.” Unless this was quidditch and we were playing at Hogwarts, that probably wouldn’t fly. I noticed today on the website that they’re just called “dance team.” Rather boring and unoriginal.

We then contemplated the pros and cons of the DC Roomie trying out for the dance team next year. What are the benefits of being a Washington Wizards’ dancer? Do you get free tickets to Verizon Center events? Her boyfriend didn’t really seem thrilled with the concept. There also might be some ramifications with your professional career if your employer found out you moonlighted as a scantily-clad dancer for a professional basketball team.

Which leads to my next question. In a town like DC, where 50% of the population has college degrees and 25% graduate, who tries out for things like the Washington Wizards dance team? It just doesn’t seem to fit the image of the typical DC power woman.

Then they emerged in the second-half wearing costumes that must have come from a sale at a strip joint. The short black and white striped skirts were predictable. However, the full abdomen-revealing shirts emblazoned with “I can’t feel my face,” were a bit over the top. I think that’s the point that “whore corps” were used. When the G-man came out to launch t-shirts*, the dance team proceeded to act out strip teases with the t-shirts. It didn’t really help their image.

I don’t want this to turn into a feminist “I can do anything I want with my body including turning it into a sex object” discussion, but there is sexy dancing and then there’s raunchy. The Washington Wizards dance team was definitely on the raunchy side. Was the “I can’t feel my face.” t-shirt necessary? It seems so unprofessional, especially when most of the audience were families with young kids.

It’s also a bummer that the Wizards lost as the buzzer went off. The adorable two-year-old sitting in front of us, who was wearing a miniature Wizards track suit, was disappointed.

*I really want a t-shirt launching gun. I’m guessing that it works similar to a potato gun, but I’m not sure. Sadly, I got rid of all those t-shirts that I used to have, or I would have had a justification for buying one.

Saturday, the roomie threw a going-away party and many of the SOC kids came over. Thanks to Karin’s paparazzi photog skills, almost every moment of the party is documented on Facebook.

Karin was kind enough to include this pix of the mount o’ stuff currently stashed in the living room. There was some talk of using it as a backdrop to take portrait pixs. That was abandoned, thankfully.

What you can’t see is the pet gate around it to keep the dogs from investigating the mount ‘o stuff. Also note all the empty boxes in the front. I saved all my boxes from my previous move and seem to have extras. I take this to mean that I have less stuff now.

This is about 75% of what I own. My closet, bathroom and furniture haven’t made it to the pile yet. The roomie also agrees that this is significantly less stuff than I had when I moved into the Apartment Brought To You by IKEA. I guess I’m at step 6 or 7 of Pack Rats Anonymous.

Moving in 11 more days…

Does anyone else find this picture of President Bush and the Easter Bunny disturbing?

It looks like he’s enjoying the death grip he has on the bunny’s paw.

Back to being a Croc-hater today.

Yesterday, I decided to keep the Crocs on and call in Maven Mom’s bet. I wore them on the Metro at rush hour to Union Station and then Ebenezer’s for the NCC Good Friday Service.

It was an interesting experience. I got a lot of strange looks from people. Probably the same look I give people when they wear the ugly shoes in public. I deserved it. I had orange boats on my feet.

Normally, I adhere to the 75% black clothes ratio that people follow in DC, so I didn’t feel too bad about being a “What Not to Wear” victim for one day.

Now that I spent a day walking around in Crocs, I’m wondering what the deal is.

Most people justify their ugliness by exclaiming how comfortable they are. Umm…they’re just not that comfortable. Numerous Croc lovers had told me that they feel like walking on pillows. Didn’t get that feeling.

Several pairs of my shoes were just as comfortable or more so. My Uggs (also ugly, but more allowable), trainers and many of my ballet flats. All very comfortable. Aerosoles are more comfortable and the brand has gone a long way in the past few years towards designing cuter shoes.

Argue with me if you remain a lover of Crocs, but I spent a day in those shoes. There is absolutely nothing on earth that justifies something that ugly.

I just realized today that I move in exactly three weeks. 21 days and counting.

It overwhelms me to think about everything that needs to get done before I leave. I’m taking week-by-week, or a freak out will ensue. Hopefully, I’ve learned something about stress management over the past two years.

*The movers are booked and final schedules set. It ended up being far cheaper to go with U-Pack than renting a truck and driving home. The truck rental was the same cost as the pod-type moving companies, but it cost extra to include the trailer to haul my good Honda home and gas. With gas at $3.50 a gallon, that’s a few extra hundred bucks. I’ll make a full report on using U-Pack. The concept is great–the drop off the “ReloCubes” and give you a few days to pack them. Then they pick them up and deliver them to your address. So much easier than U-Hauling, especially after my previous experiences.

*Hopefully, I’ve told everyone that I need to tell. I hate that a few people found out through Facebook. I’m sorry if you found out that way.

*The DC Roomie is throwing a going away part for me on March 29. Contact me if you should be invited, but haven’t been. I tried to get everyone in the DC area.

*Oddly enough, I think I sold my car. A coworker is interested in buying. The IKEA chairs on the other hand–no buyers! Oh well, it’s just more furniture to lug around. IKEA will likely follow me for a while. They’re great chairs, and Maven Mom can be bribed to make slipcovers for me.

*Last week, the Roomie forced me to start throwing stuff away. I fully confess to being a pack rat, so I needed de-junking counseling. I literally hauled box after box into the living room, and she helped me sort through it. Thus far, I’ve donated two car loads of stuff to Goodwill. When the Roomie hasn’t been around, I’ve asked myself, “Would Mrs. M keep it?” 9 times out of 10, I toss it. Thank God for friends who don’t have clutter addictions.

*I went through my box of miscellaneous papers and found parking tickets from UT and bills dating back to 2000. Did I mention that I was a pack rat? Shredding those UT parking tickets felt like sticking it to the Big Orange Screw. I’m four years out of college and still relish getting back at UT. Does that feeling ever go away?

*My last week in DC is pretty crazy, so I’ve started packing. The apartment will look sad for the party, but it’s the only time that I can do it. I actually developed a packing strategy. Apparently when you go to grad school for a degree in strategic communications, you approach everything by developing a plan. It’s second nature now.

*Right now, my prayer is that this doesn’t happen the day that I move.

Over lunch, I took a few minutes to walk outside and look at the anti-war demonstrations going on around my office. Sadly, there were no conservatives near me to join in my mockery.

These people are supposedly protesting the deaths in Iraq. Personally, I think they look more like followers of the Dark Lord Who Can Not Be Named.

These guys seem to have the utopian progressive platform down to three lines.

More power to the protesters for assembling and expressing their misguided and naive opinions but don’t disrespect my flag. The upside down flags really bothered me.

A few tourists on their Segways stopped by the hullabaloo.

I also may or may not have passed Cindy Sheehan. I’m rather grossed out if I did.

My whole problem with peace protesters is that they’re disruptive, inefficient and disjointed. From a strategic perspective, I get your point, but it isn’t effective. Why have five or six small protests around the city? Focus on one thing and make a lot of noise. Furthermore, you don’t win any fans by disrupting traffic and morning commutes. If you want us to pull out of Iraq, present reasonable arguments to win people over to your side. Don’t piss us off by causing traffic jams.

Knitting Grandmas outside the Veterans Administration? WHAT DOES THAT ACCOMPLISH?

At this point, President Bush has about 10 months left in his administration. It’s time to drop the Impeachment line! Think back to the 90s. It took years to bring Articles of Impeachment against Clinton. If you insist on rallying around one message, make it a worthwhile one. Take a few minutes and lean how a President of the United States is impeached.

Stop being whiny and focus on articulate and accurate points. But then, perhaps that’s why I’m a conservative. Aging Hippies and spoiled college kids aren’t known for their reasoned viewpoints.

One of the things that I’m going to miss the most about DC is Trader Joe’s. The grocery store is really that awesome. Organic and healthy food at cheap prices with witty signs and labels. Who can beat that?

Trader Joe’s also has a great wine selection in states that allow grocery stores to sell wine. Framboise Lambic at $9 a bottle and Two Buck Chuck. Those are things that I’ve become accustomed to buying with ease. As of now, I’m going to have to drive to Atlanta for my favorite beer, hormone-free chicken and organic pita bread.

The movement to allow grocery stores to sell wine and alcohol gives me hope that Trader Joe’s may come to the Volunteer State.

Sure the issue is fueled by special interests. Yes, there’s a stupid and rather naive debate going on about PR firms engaging in advocacy issues. But isn’t it time that we liberate our alcoholic beverages? What about our “right” to buy wine on demand? Plus the law of supply and demand would lower the prices if grocers could stock alcohol. Alcohol would be cheaper for poor people. Thus, the free market rules and poor people are helped. It’s the perfect bipartisan issue.

Basically, I’m for anything that brings Trader Joe’s to Chattanooga.