Heather and BlahBlah

My big sister and I had an IM conversation this morning about our struggles through our Holy Spirit-infused awkward teen years. We were both weirdos in our own ways to begin with, bumping around our hometown like homesick aliens, not identifying with a single person. We were perhaps most obviously ill-suited for the Southern Illinois upbringing when in the presence of our church crowd (to which our parents constantly subjected us so that my grandma would stop calling and raving about hellfire and damnation).

I think that the following is a clear record of the fact that hellfire can be defined as “church camp” or “church road trip.”

Sister: OH yes!
I want my Breathless Mahoney t-shirt
from the Dick Tracy movie that I never saw. this one!!!
wait no
mine was purple
I should make mommy dig it up.
me: No way, she sold all our shit in that yard sale
Remember?
We ate at John’s Cafe at like 1am
then she woke us up at 5am to help her drag shit out into the yard
I almost barfed a sausage biscuit brick
Anyway
Sold
Someone is sitting at McDonald’s right now wearing the hell out of it.
Sister: hahahah
I know
I saw a girl in dairy queen wearing my Heather and BlahBlah shirt
from the one Christian concert I went to with Church of Christ.
me: hahaha
I was so jealous
“a real concert! Man I wanna grow up right now!”
HAHAHA
Sister: Hahahhaha
I know, I know
that trip was so uncomfortable!
Man
[J.H.] was there
and that girl Nicole, the preacher’s daughter
brought a “popular” friend from school
with big, blonde scrunchy hair, and she insisted she had to sleep by the bathroom because she had her period
I remember going in there in the morning and there was a big huge blotch of blood on the floor.
And no one would talk to me, and they made me play mini-golf
and be in a skit about homie the clown, and I didn’t even know who/what that was.
All I knew was [A.W] got to hit me in the head with a sock stuffed with more socks, on a stage, in front of hundreds of people.
and I pretty much stopped believing in god that weekend.
me: oh my god
this is terrible/wonderful
I’m sorry.
I had an awful time on that trip I had to take to that hotel in Springfield with [N.U] and [S.T.] and [N.U.]’s dad
I brought a fucking coloring book full of unicorns and a bag of markers
and they brought fucking Clinique bags stuffed with makeup
and they whispered about me and put on makeup all night
while i colored unicorns
and in the morning we had to go sing about Jesus and how awesome everything is.
Sister: I remember!!!
I think I was there too!
[N.U.] made us all stop on the way home so she could buy a new curling iron at Walmart.
me: YES
We had to pick up trash on the side of the road or something?
then go to a sing a long
then go home.
fucking awful.
My children are NOT going to shit like that
that will just make them uncomfortable about themselves for 48 hours.
Stuff like that is why I have a nervous bowel.
I guarantee I was constipated for a week after that
because I didn’t have any makeup
Sister: hahaha
I went to camp with those bitches!
I remember, the next day one of them TOLD ME
“Last night we were talking in Heather’s bunk, and I said we should invite you over, and Heather said “But what if she actually COMES?!”
Hey, that’s OK, girls.
I’m over here with my itty bitty book light junior
reading Tituba.
Then they wanted to have a leg-shaving party.
But I wasn’t allowed to shave my legs.
me: ugh
At my church camp they tricked me in to “dry shaving”
“Yeah totally it’s where you just shave your legs like without water, we all do it”
So I did it with a plastic Bic someone gave me
and my legs were so sore and broken out all week
every little hair follicle sliced open
so awful, and hot and painful
then next year I met [B.] and everything was awesome
and we found out we were going to start 6th grade together
We are still friends!
Sister: wow
Well, something good came out of it.
me: I guess so
Sister: I just kissed a guy who told me on the last day of camp that he “couldn’t remember” his address.
hahahah
STORY OF MY LIFE.
me: HAHAHA
Sister: hahahahaha

You can make the body of Christ into small cakes, you know.

me: I totally just found my church camp crush on Facebook
[R.R.]
He looks like a dick
a dick in Abercrombie
The scariest thing about that camp
I mean
besides the fact that they encouraged us to send each other “around the chapel” holding hands
during meals
was that giant box full of water in the front of the chapel where they’d baptise
Looked like a big damn coffin
Sister: no, the scariest thing was the chef.
Pizza!
“Hey, Pizza-Man!”
Then one summer we came back..
and he was gone.
BECAUSE HE MURDERED SOMEONE!
me: oh my god
OH [R.R.] is a flamer now!
sounds about right
He posted an online review of something called “Powered Lube”
Sister: Well, he’s not going to fall for the dry shaving trick.
Not [R.R.]