sweating like a whore in... well, you know

i dont think of myself as a particularily religous person. or, y'know, a religious person at all. however, living in new orleans and partaking in more than my fair share of mardi gras debauchory, i recognize that there is more to the gras than getting a week off of classes to get drunk in the middle of the day and an excuse for drunk girls to show their tits; there is also, apparently, a religious aspect to the drunken celebrations. i believe (in theory) that if im going to celebrate the gras, i should also get my heathen and godless self into a church, which, i did today for the first time.

the catholics were a surprisingly aggressive bunch. i had assumed that by standing in the nose bleed section of the back i wouldnt have to worry about receiving ashes or communion, but no! they send their flying monkey's into the crowd to dispense with the crosses and the snacks. i was able to fight off the ashes, but, somehow ended up being given a communion wafer; since i dont know how to politely refuse the body of someone's diety, i politely accepted it and stashed it in my purse. i figure if people will spend tens of thousands of dollars on toast that looks like jesus, then someone will pay seriously big money for the actual body of jesus (although im unclear as to what part of the body looks like a ritz cracker). if not, i guess i can dip it in hummous and have a snack for later?

not surprisingly, the catholics were a flashy bunch. is it wrong that i couldnt stop staring at the priest in his purple robes and everchanging red hat and thinking about the red hat society women? im sure he would do them proud.