Today being Ash Wednesday, and me being a good Catholic girl, I went with some work friends to noon mass to get our ashes. Usually for Ash Wednesday the priests give you a sort of halfhearted gray blurry smudge on your forehead that may or may not resemble a cross, which then washes away on its own after a few hours. The priests today, though, were not kidding around. They gave everyone thick, gigantic black crosses. Some people even had their cross ashes span the whole length and width of their foreheads. So there we all were, sporting huge black ash crosses, trying to act like everything was normal as we trekked back to work and gamely attempting to ignore the fact that our foreheads looked like someone branded a hot iron cross onto it. I lasted a few hours before the sixth or seventh funny look I received had me guiltily wiping off my ashes, risking eternal damnation.
I'd forgotten all about the joys of Lent. I hope the next forty days go well for the rest of you Catholics out there.