To the Emotionally- Charged Evangelical Fundamentalist Recruiters of my World:

I probably owe lots of people apologies...even though I'm not very sorry yet...

This week has been "Spiritual Emphasis Week" at school, and it's brought to the surface plenty of emotions and tensions that have been buried in my chest for a long time. In short, I'm reminded of how much I don't like Christians.

I don't exactly know how to explain why I don't like you people, or what exactly you do that that bothers me...maybe its because you frustrate me by spending more time discussing accountability partners and why you aren't doing devotions and why not dating is making you a better Christian than about Jesus....maybe it's because the way you present the Bible makes me want to burn it.......or maybe its just because I think you’re stupid and intellectually incompetent…..

I read an article recently by a lady who described her reaction to "churcyness" by saying something along the lines of "I don't have a problem with God; I just can't stand his friends”. I completely understand where she’s coming from…

I honestly don't know what to do with you people. I'm angry at how you present Jesus’ message, and how being around you seems to suck the magic out of the Gospel. I'm saddened by what it seems like following Christ means you, and I'm embarrassed by the way your social and political ideology affects my reputation.

.....I want you people to know that I'm sorry....I'm sorry for my bad attitude and for being arrogant and for thinking that I'm better than you. I'm sorry for considering you narrow-minded idiots, since I'm sure that somehow that's not the case. I'm sorry that in my anger I haven't made much of an effort to love and care for you. I'm sorry for not listening to you and for not liking you....I'm sorry about how I'm more concerned about my reputation and the way you affect it than helping you understand. I’m sorry that I forget that God loves and cares about you and thinks that you’re important, and I’m sorry that I don’t treat you that way...you deserve better, and I apologize.

.... I think mostly I'm sorry about the fact that I'm not very sorry yet....

…..I’m working on it………just not quite there…..

.....Avril

(this will be my last complaint for awhile...i promise)

a few years ago, when avril lavigne was cool, i liked her music. i was emo. i identified with her "complicated" and "damn cold life".

...then i got over it and decided not to listen to her until she had a good day.


her good day didn't help. i find her new upbeat inspirational style just as annoying.

"You're not alone
Together we stand
'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand
When it gets cold
And it feels like the end
There's no place to go
You know I won't give in
No I won't give in

Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
There's nothing you could say
Nothing you could do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through"


If mix 106.5 plays that song one more time, my car radio will find itself smashed under my tire.

~end rant

Heh Heh Heh.........

It's always rather awkward when you're sitting in church/chapel/class enjoying (or tolerating) the speaker/pastor/teacher's sermon and suddenly it gets good...

.....unnaturally good.

people are laughing. The story sounds familiar. It sounds familiar because its from one of the books you read......

-Gotta love originality....

If you're a teacher/pastor/preacher/
speaker/whatever-the-heck-other-terms-we-use-to-describe-you, do me a favor please and don't use the creative stories from Erwin McManus or other ever popular Christian writers of our time without citing them........it makes me have a hard time listening to you.......

UGGHH........politics

(This is an experience I had about eight months ago that I had written in my journal...)

"Today I spent the evening at Barnes & Noble reading a book about a neurosurgeon. Towards the end of my evening, a couple of friends saw me and came over to chat. The blonde doctor on the cover of my book was accidentally mistaken for the author Ann Coulter. When my friends realized that I wasn’t reading an Ann Coulter Book, the disappointment was clear, and one of them ran to the front of the store to retrieve a copy of her two latest books. I don’t know much about Ann Coulter, but the titles of the books (How to Talk to a Liberal (If You Must) and Godless: The Church of Liberalism) enabled me to assume her political affiliation. I’m not really sure if anyone really knows what liberal means in the first place…many people associate it with support for abortion, homosexuality, gay marriage, blue hair, piercing holes, prostitution, tattoos, and burning the American Flag. At least that’s the impression I get….anyways, my friends told me a story about this asinine-boarder-hopping-family who brought their little girl over- illegally- for a 3 million dollar surgery. Since this family didn’t have insurance, good ‘ol Cali ate the bill. My friends expressed their annoyance and utter disbelief in the unfair system, saying that their tax money was stolen to fund another lazy family who shouldn’t have hopped the boarder etc. etc. etc.
To be honest, what they said made sense. A lot of sense. Why should MY parent’s hard earned tax money be thrown down the drain to people who don’t have a job? And what about Americans? Aren’t we first priority?

........Then I went home. And then I thought about it.

I have no clue what it’s like to be a parent. I don’t have kids. I’m only 16. But I can imagine parents watching their little girl play with her barbies and run through sprinklers, knowing that next year at the same time she’ll be gone. What would it be like tucking your kid in… reading her a book, and kissing her on the forehead, and with a smile plastered on your face, looking up out the window and seeing the city lights… What would it be like knowing that your kid is sick and not too far away is a place that could offer her a chance... she might be able to grow up...
I thought about that and I got sorry. I got sorry that all day all I thought about was myself. "


When I analyze political situations I often forget that they affect real people and real families that are not so different from mine. I find that in my white-upper-middle-class arrogance, I am unable to sympathize with those who become victims of the policies that we make...the policies that I will be voting on in the not so distant future...

I'm finding it difficult to define my social obligations and responsibilities when it comes to public policy. I'm not sure where to draw the line. (not even sure what line i'm talking about...)

"Second Star to the Right and Straight on 'till Morning"

"Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown-up things again." -Peter Pan

When I was little, getting older was one of those things that I never questioned and almost always looked towards with some amount of anticipation. I used to raid my mom's closet and wear her high heels and paint my face with her makeup. A few years later my friends and I would ride our bikes along the trail in front of my house, pretending we were driving cars (mine would always be a blue motorcycle and we'd stop for gas at every exercise station). Its sad when you get a little older and realize that none of the things you wished for were really as cool as you thought they'd be. Instead of basking in my newfound teenage freedom, I find myself wandering around aimlessly, feeling very lost. Besides, those high heel shoes hurt my feet and having a car takes me further and further away from home.

Growing up hasn't done much for me. I don't like being stressed out and worried, and I hate that anxiety seems to be my future's best friend. I'm sick of being busy with things that are dumb and feeling bad about doing things I want to do. I hate that I look toward whats going to happen almost singularly with dread...

I wish that just for one day, I could go back in time. I'd relive my 6th birthday and remember what its like to not worry about things. I'd play in trees and have a tea party, and I wouldn't feel bad about all the things I should be doing. I'd go back to chasing leprechauns and talking to fairies and playing hop scotch on my driveway....and when my hands got all dusty from the side walk chalk, I'd paint my face with the colors and pretend that i was Pocahontas....

Its sad feeling like an awkward lost kid and being all alone. Actually, I think that's the worst part-- being all alone. I wanna go back and I have no one to go back with...I wish Peter Pan would show up at my bedroom window and whisk me off to Neverland. If he did, he'd be my new best friend...



I'd change the story, though.... I wouldn't come back....