Tay's parents are thinking it might be fun to take me to church.
I cover up my shoulders and knees and we sit on wooden benches for
four hours listening to someone who apparently is not the pope, though
his hat suggests otherwise, drone on about Jesus this and that don't
get pregnant or be gay.  And all I want to do jump up on my little pew
and scream at the top of my lungs that HERE IS PROPER WAY TO PUT ON A
CONDOM, JUST IN CASE YOU NEED IT!  And, YES I learned that at Berkeley
High and YES, they pass out free birth control at lunch and YES, I
have gaygayGAY friends and YES, I was in a play called THE VAGINA
MONOLOGUES and YES, we performed it at school and YES, I show my
shoulders and say Goddamn it, and YES, we smoke MARIJUANA and NO, I do
not believe in God and NO, I still don't believe in God even though
you've been talking about him for the past four and a half hours!
Only, I resort to saying all this in my head which is a little less
satisfying, but still makes me feel pretty good about myself.

    I am squeezing hot glue out of a gun onto a linoleum countertop
that is covered in ice-cold water.  The glue freezes into cool shapes
and I give them to Kendall who attaches them with yarn and colorful
buttons.  Tay comes in and throws something on the counter and says
SURPRISE!  I look down and to my horror see a Death Cab for Cutie
concert ticket and I go Yay...  Whoa...  Yes...  Oooh...  And I'm
really thinking SHIT!  I just threw up in my mouth a little!  Cause I
hate Death Cab.  Plus, her dad accidentally gave away the surprise so
my reaction is a little bit the opposite of sincere.  But I put on my
tank top and mascara and we get soggy Subway sandwiches on the way and
then we get there and wait in line for about two hours.  And im
thinking that wow.  These people suck.  They all look exactly the same
with their half-blonde, half-black dyed hair, their leopard print
shoes, their skinny jeans, their t-shirts from Urban that say
something "random" on them in hopes of being unique but sorry,
everyone has that shirt, you are not unique, why don't you end your
life somewhere you emo piece of shit I hate you.  And everyone sings
along to all the emo lyrics and all I want to do is go home so I can
call Noah and complain about the lack of individuality and the bad
music taste and how much I hate everyone which will make me feel good
about myself again.