So Christmas is coming up and, as everyone knows, you can’t spell Christmas without "Christ".

And on that note I began to think of my life as a Catholic. I am not sure how this entire mess got started. I was just kind of born a Catholic I guess. Born, baptized and–poof–I was in the family of God.

But I was never really a "good" Catholic. I only went to Sunday school long enough to take first communion. I was confirmed in Mexico because no place in Los Angeles would confirm me without taking young adult classes. In Mexico they’d confirm anything that would stand still long enough.

Apparently this is a big day in the lives of most Catholics. I just put on a pretty dress and got slapped by an old man in a big white robe. Really, this guy murmured something, made the sign of the cross and slapped me across the face. I was kind of pissed off, actually.

So you could say I always kind of got the paperwork done, but that’s about it. I am not really sure what kind of scam my mother was trying to pull, but I think, technically, I am guaranteed a little gold seat in heaven. Jesus and I are sure going to laugh it up. Oh, and then, when I was fifteen, I denounced the devil in front of my entire family in the church during my quincianera. I don’t think Jesus liked it any more than I did when the entire church burst out in laughter. Yeah, so my family hasn’t been a huge help.

So, no, I am not one of your more religious people. For example, it seems there is something called Advent (have you ever heard of this?), an entire religious holiday I had never heard of before. I guess if I’m not getting a present I never bothered to remember.

In elementary school my class had a Christmas quiz. A little Jewish boy beat me. I didn’t know what the three wise men brought to little baby Jesus. I think I just don’t have enough guilt in my soul to be a good Catholic. I remember I had to go to confession. I honestly couldn’t think of anything bad I had done. I refused to go to confession and my mother told me to confess disobeying my parents. That is kind of circular reasoning, isn’t it?

So I went in, but the Father only spoke Spanish. I don’t know how to say "commandment" in Spanish. I was about eight years old, and this guy was definitely not interested in anything to which I had to confess.

After a few minutes, exhausted from fumbling around with my Spanish, I just broke down and confessed to committing every sin there is. I actually think this is how the Spanish inquisition went, too.

It is really amazing how quickly I was absolved of theft, murder and adultery. Hell, this whole time I was worried about telling lies, I could have been coveting my neighbor’s wife and in an instant my soul was wiped clean. Hurrah for the Catholics!

But what about the rest of Pomona College? I’ll tell you about the rest of them. I mostly got a bunch of fumblings around, hemming and hawing. Godless.

Mary Farnsworth ’03 when asked states that she would like to reject this article because she fears divine retribution. And that "I am going straight–straight–to hell."

Cory Forsythe ’03 says, "I don’t trust you to keep it off the record"

Straight.

Okay, so maybe I don’t know too much about being a Catholic. But I’ll tell you something seriously. He told me that God was all the beautiful things in the world. Which I don’t think you need to be slapped across the face to believe.