Taco Bell and God

      Secretly, women love watching pregnant women expand. They love to watch as the woman gets huge and secretly think "HAHA! SHE'S HUGE!" To a pregnant woman's face they say how cute the belly is. But, in reality, they think you look like a dinosaur.

      Chad took me out for a date night last night. We even put on cologne and perfume for the occasion. I wore heels, and I put a belt on. That's special occasion material right there. We left early to get to a decent place to eat with time left to still make the movie on time. Where did we eat? Taco Bell. Yep, that's right. Taco Bell and Jackass. Pretty sure we had the date that I went on when I was 16. When I was 16 my body could digest Taco Bell. Now, well....it sort of reminisces about the good times of youth and college bingeing, and then it brings forth the wrath of a blooples so intense you actually think that if you look down you will see part of yourself left behind.

Taco Bell reminds me of high school. I told my parents they were going to hell because they didn't believe in God the way I did. Yea, I did that. Needless to say, looking back, I went to these teen religious meetings to meet boys. It was twice a week, and the boys were ummmm confused or there for the same reasons I was. We would meet at different people's houses and discuss bible versus, and then sing Joan Baez's "What If God Was One of Us." I used to go outside and smoke cigarettes, you know, to get in touch with my religious self. I remember trying to buy weed at one of these gatherings. I asked for it one week, and hoped it arrived the next. What did arrive was a bag of oregano, and being asked to leave. Apparently, I couldn't smoke pot, and love God. It didn't really matter anyways. I started going bizerk towards the end of my freshman year of high school. No amount of God was going to save me. There are some family pictures of me floating around from that time that are pretty classic. I looked like feral cat. I bought Fimo clay, (you can bake it in the oven) and I made a mushroom to wear around my neck. It looked more like a penis than a mushroom. I didn't even know what shrooms were back then, but I did know that people wore them around their neck.

     Anyways, after Bible discussions on Tuesdays, we would all go to the local Taco Bell. 20 to 30 high school kids would skitter in to the store. How they didn't kill us all I will never know. We would all order one 69 cent taco and a water, and sit inside the Taco Bell until right around 10 pm. When Chad and I sat down to feast on our Taco Bell, I bit into that crunchy taco, and remembered telling my Mom she was going to hell. This coming from the girl that puked on the side of her friend's parents mini-van because she ended up being allergic to "oregano."

      It turns out, crunchy tacos do not get you closer to God.

      I was a terrible kid.

      I'm not sure why my parents still love me.

      T-Money, please don't be like me.

      That was not a good youth group.