however, on a 'lighter' note, let's talk about Part 1 of my sister's graduation (oh yes, there was more than one part
Villanova is a lovely school. It's academically acceptable, it's on the Main Line, there are always plenty of WASPy boys wearing salmon colored Dockers with Ralph Lauren polos (collar POP!) and complimentary matching pastel colored cashmere sweaters wrapped "casually" around said WASPy shoulders, an exceedingly large amount of New Yorkers in their SUVs who drive like assholes...you get the picture.
Villanova is also Catholic. Not just like affiliated with Catholicism, but like hardcore brothers are walking around campus. Like, for graduation they have a mass on the football field for 1000 people. And I had to go. Which not only made me seethe with discomfort and hate for organized religion, but also ruined my opportunity to see Sean before he left for SoCal for good.
Listen, I went to a religious college undergrad. Worst four years of my life. Religion, boondocks of PA, and football players wearing Old Navy jeans and shirts that say 'COLLEGE' and me don't really mix. I was hiding most of the time. Literally. I've also clearly been experiencing Posttraumatic Stress Disorder as I have managed to completely block out this experience therefore causing an averse, anxiety inducing exposure moment when on the Villanova football field.
Some highlights:
1. The wind was making the speakers pound with reverberation.
Thank you, the god fearing effect was noted.
2. The priest (minister? rabbi? reverend? who?) with arms outstretched and robe flapping in the wind.
It was like a scene out of Jesus Camp. i'm not kidding. i was scared. and uncomfortable. and getting dirty looks from the 24 year old guy behind me b/c i didn't cross myself at the signaled times. But shit, no one else was giving me a hug. I was trying to protect myself from the demons!
3. The Communion procession for 1000 people.
I kid you not. I was one of two people who did not take the wafer communion. The other person was my sister. And so, this really does beg the question, "What the fuck were we doing there??", considering the only time I set foot in a church is during Xmas and the only reason that happens is because I do it for my grandfather whose conditional love I'm afraid of along with the guilt trip he would bestow upon on me while on his deathbed.
4. There were 21 year old graduates standing in the aisle with their eyes closed and arms outstretched.
Listen. Let me do you a favor and schedule an appointment at the Evangelical church for you and your respective craziness. This is bad enough. Do we really need to take it to that level?
5. This is what a Catholic church service sounds like on a football field:
And the lord answered..swered, swered, swered....
lord the almighty, mighty, mighty...
you are a bad person, son, son, son...
the power of christ compells you, you, you...
6. Also, did you know that at these large organized masses you have to shake hands and make friends with your neighbors? Read: neighbors = people you don't know and don't really want to know b/c you know all these fuckers have a W sticker on the back of their car and are voting Republican in '08 and don't give a fuck whether or not I want to choose to get an abortion if necessary.
7. And in closing, I would like to include a direct quote from the last five minutes of the mass given by the priest/rabbi/minister/reverend:
"I know it's raining and windy. I ask you, don't leave. (Notice that's not a question). If you walk away now, you will never know what it is you missed at the end of this mass."
That Catholic guilt .. they do it to you right.
[Note: There are no exaggerations in these examples.]
All this when I could have been having drinks with Sean (who, like every other male in my life, abandoned me at 6am today) and then attended Madonnarama at Pure. And if God wasn't completely proud of me for doing those two things, he would have at least been a hell of a lot more entertained.
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