Catholic School: a mythical land of hot girls in plaid and self righteous bible thumpers. Pop culture has failed to recognize the other category of kids coming out of these institutions; the socially uninformed, biblically literate, new college students thrown into large public universities. This is our story…

Before we start, I feel it is important to get a mental image. This is me on
my first day of eighth grade. Yeah, soak it in.

Sundays are for God and Chipotle

Though my family isn’t what you would call particularly pious, I’ve always felt the tiniest twinge of guilt skipping church on Sundays. It’s gotten worse in college now that the only religious experience I encounter on a regular Sunday is sleeping in until noon and enjoying a fully loaded Chipotle Burrito Bowl.

If skipping Sunday morning mass is a guilt trip, you wouldn’t believe the mix of emotions I have on days we go out on Sundays. I’m no theologian, but I’m pretty sure “thou shalt not rage face” is one of the Ten Commandments.

Slutty Catholic School Girl Costumes are Blasphemy

With Halloween coming up, I am already mentally preparing myself to see the parade of trampy costumes that descend on the Greek community. The ol’ standby is the slutty catholic school girl. Take it from me, someone who wore a plaid jumper and saddle shoes for nine years, there is nothing sexy about the itch of wool and the hideous hue of red and black plaid.

My first Halloween party out of Catholic school was a heaven and hell party. Having been dressed as an angel dozens of times, and going as a devil being against the rules, I decided it was about time to bust out the red horns. This lead to me spending the rest of the night saying “yes I am a devil but I’m a nice girl I promise.” The conversation would usually end there because I had thoroughly weirded everyone out.

I sh** you not, I was an angel at least once a year...

Our Sexual Education was more than a bit misleading

Most kids got condoms in their sex ed class. We had the
fear of God put on us.

As the official stance of the Catholic church is abstinence, this made our sex ed classes sort of confusing. It wasn’t even allowed to be called Sex Ed, so in grade school we had to call it “Family Life.” As the administration feared the surge of hormones that came along with adolescences, they felt the need to build on what we learned in grade school when we entered High School. This horror show was called the “forum on love and chastity.” It consisted of putting us all in a room with our school priest and having him respond to our questions with “yes, that is also a sin.”

Being a science major, it was inevitable that the topic of reproduction would be discussed. Never did I expect to be that one a-hole in the back, giggling every time the professor would get particularly graphic. For someone who learned about sex from MTV and Amy Schumer, hearing my 65 year old biology professor talk about **insert Internet appropriate reproductive organ here** is pretty unsettling.

Good Morning, Father

From Kindergarten through senior year of high school, old men in white collars were a staple of my everyday life. “Good morning, Father,” “Good afternoon, Father,” “Great Homily this week, Father.” It’s so ingrained in my brain that now anyone who walks by me wearing black with an air of religious authority gets “father-ed.” This is awkward when I greet Pastors, Reverends, Goth kids, Harry Potter fans dressed as Snape, and even the occasional Tibetan monk; all of which receive the customary “Hello, Father.”

Myth Busted: Franzia is Communion Wine

As I see my peers waiting for their turn to slap the wine bag, I had a revelation. Even at the young age of 8, I knew the wine we were drinking in mass was a suspicious vintage. Now with some life experiences under my belt, I can safely confirm that the blood of Christ comes from a large plastic bag. Keepin’ it classy Catholicism.

Having spent many of my formative years being a Eucharistic Minister (aka the person who gives out the communion) caused me to be one of the most uncomfortable bartender ever. Simply passing my friend a glass of wine evokes an impulse to proclaim “the blood of Christ.” Nothing kills a party like a little Catholic guilt.

Catholic school wasn't an entire loss. I did look pretty fly in
those sweater vests.

Though I appreciate that my Catholic upbringing brought me a great education and wonderful friends, I do accredit it for most of the social awkwardness I developed over the years. Along with the awkwardness, I gained important values, strong family bonds, and an appreciation for incense. So thanks Catholic school, you’re not all that bad.