Tuesday, April 26, 2011

holy roller

My best friend converted to Catholicism on Saturday. Apparently those things take place in actual churches. And it's on the list of places where you can't wear sweatpants and/or leggings. Who knew? All I have to say is thank goodness that my mother is a fashionista because I hated every article of clothing that I had brought with me from Boston. She (begrudgingly) let me borrow her brand new dress. I was given explicit instructions to not let any food and/or beverages get near the dress. So what did I do? Open up a chocolate bar on the car ride there. And then spill seltzer in my lap. She should know by now that I am a destroyer of nice things, so really it's totally her fault. But I have to say, I clean up pretty well and since I didn't light into flames as soon as I walked into the church, I'd have to say that God agrees:

What I didn't know that when I rsvp'd yes that I was signing myself up for three. hours. of. church. Holy balls, I've got to tell you that the only redeeming part of the entire service (other than beaming with motherly pride over my best's conversion) was the little girl who fell in love with me and kept making silly faces from two rows up. At one point the priest came around to sprinkle us common folk with holy water. You know, to make us awesome... or something? He makes his way over to my part of the room, looks me right in the face and BAM!
It takes a split second but finally I realize that I have been hit in the eye. With holy water. Of course my first reaction is to laugh. Hysterically. My second reaction is to ask friend to my right if this means that I am now holy. My third reaction was that I needed to tweet about it. So, I did. In church. Sorry, God. But I am holy now, you should make some exceptions for me.

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