Confessions

My butt hurts when I poo. I know, i know. Too much information, but it's getting somewhere so just sit back a minute. My ass problem would result from eating all the processed starchy carbs such as rice, potatoes and pasta and so i'm resolved to give this up for Lent. So no carbs for 40 days. That sounds like a long time, but imagine the joy of gobbling down all of it again on Easter Sunday. As the Son of Man rises to rid us of our sufferings, so shall I, out of my seat, in pain and misery, once more...there's a wonderful duality to it all. Now I know many of you are pointing fingers at me and screaming "blasphemer" or perhaps its "sacrilege!!" Well gotta tell y'all, i'm not really a Catholic. So there. In what I mean by "not really" I guess you'd say I was Christian, having been brought up under those beliefs and having gone through all the school and the cute li'l uniforms, however, I never even took Communion in 2nd grade nor Confirmation in 7th, making me an unconfirmed Roman Catholic. From my mother I picked up a certain dislike for the pope and so I'm a Protestant Roman Catholic. I must confess something though...I always go up, when I ever get my hurting ass to church, to receive the host. . Well what's a girl to do when she's hungry? And I think 7th grade was the year that I not only did not submit myself to the faith but lost faith in priests all together. It occured on a pleasant trip, also called a retreat, with the rest of the class, when suddenly we were forced to go to confessions and I faced a priest who not only humiliated me but somehow had it in his head that I couldn't cross myself properly and had me stay in there for 10 minutes just going over and over "in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit". So after confessing I walked out the room, with tears rolling down my face, the teacher calling after me but then i turned around and told her that I was just deeply touched and needed to pray, and lost most of my faith in priests and a little bit in God. Since then God and I are once more tight, (ty-eet), but priests and I don't mix, I've never gone to confessions. And when I heard about the molestations that only deepened my distrust in them. It doesn't matter about confessions because a blog is today's confessional and I'm doing okay, except my butt hurts.

Me