Monday, August 6, 2012

Jesus, Compulsive Lying and Cigarettes

Some of you know about teenage Annie.  Man, that girl knew how to party -

With Jesus.

I was crazy about Jesus.  And when I say “crazy” I mean I was like “when I graduate from high school I’m going to become a missionary and spread the good news about Jesus to people who don’t really give a fuck about it” crazy about Jesus. 

But you know what?  That was ok.  There are a lot of scary things about Evangelical Christians these days, but I like to think that for the most part I was still a good human being despite my exuberant Christianity. (For example: I believed in helping others medically, materially and financially – not just spiritually; I didn’t care what sex people were attracted to and thought everyone deserved to marry anyone they wanted to marry because I was pretty sure God loved people who loved people regardless of who they loved otherwise he wouldn’t have invented love; I didn’t believe that all other religions were wrong and mine was the only right one.)  I was just like “YES! I get to help people have better lives and can share with them this awesome love that I feel! BOOYA!” So it was good.

…other than that time I told one of my best friends in the world that I would never talk to her again if she ever smoked weed again… that was a dick move.  Even if my strong feelings in support of marijuana prohibition were right (they weren’t) I’m pretty sure God didn’t want me telling people “Oh you have a problem and need help with it? FUCK OFF BITCH!”

But for the most part, my Jesus-freakiness was a good thing to have on my side in high school.  I was always a crappy student so my belief that drinking and drugs were bad was probably a good thing or I’m sure I never would have graduated from high school.  Sure I had never kissed a boy or talked to a boy or even made direct eye contact with a boy – but I was happy and all things considered life was good.

Then I went to college and realized that I finally had a chance to not be that dorky quiet girl (or more likely that invisible girl) anymore.  That’s when I thought; You know what’s a good way to spread God’s love?  Go to Campus Christian Fellowship and help lead the music team.  Then go out drinking with your new college friends who you’ve (probably not actually) convinced that you were a party girl in high school.  Yeah, that was a weird period in my life. 

Some times I look back at high school Annie and I go: Damn girl… you really should’ve spent a little more time looking people in the eye instead of avoiding eye contact at all times.  You also probably should’ve not given a fuck about what other people thought about you.  And really, what was with those horrible outfits?

But then I also look back at 18-year old Annie and go: Listen, home skillet, you did a lot of things when you first went off to college that altered the course of your life forever.  And you know what? Those things were pretty damn good in the long run after you got the compulsive lying and (some of) the partying out of your system.  But really, you know what I want to say to you more than anything? FUCK OFF!  Why did you start smoking cigarettes?  Ooooh you thought it was another good character trait for Party-Girl Annie to have?  Ooooh you thought all those allergies and asthma you’d dealt with your whole life were gonna be like “YEAH BITCHES!! BLACKEN THOSE LUNGS UP!” when you inhaled that smoke?

FUCK.  I really just want a cigarette.  This whole blog was just an introduction for me to say I really want a fucking cigarette.  It’s only been 24 hours since my last one but -

Oh hey! It’s been 24 hours since my last cigarette!

Much love,
Annie Jay

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(UPDATE: Oh hey! It's been 48 hours since the last one! I'm surviving!)

4 comments:

  1. I loved you in high school and I love you now. Twenty-eight years ago I, too, made it through the first 24 hours, and then the first 48 hours. I had a strong motivation to quit smoking, the most wonderful reason in the world. Peach, I still think YOU are the best reason to quit smoking. Please do this for yourself. Keep telling yourself that as long as you don't take one more puff, you won't smoke. I promise, you will NEVER, NEVER regret quitting smoking.

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    1. Thanks Mom :-) I loved me in high school too, I just never realized what a spaz I was until it was too late ;-) And I'm not afraid I'll regret quitting smoking, I know it's the right thing for me to do. 3 days in I'm still hanging on but it's definitely not easy! Luckily I have coworkers who understand if I'm gripe-y.

      Oh, and FUCK. Just because I know you like it when I say that :-p

      Love you!

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  2. Thanks for reading Ollie - and thanks for inspiring me to write more :-)

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  3. And I probably squeaked and ran around a corner after I realized my mistake.

    Or hid under a table.

    Or just turned around, faced a wall and didn't move for a while.

    I've always operated under the assumption that people are like T-Rexes and can't see me if I don't move.

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