Girl Gone Wild

It's springtime and the sap is rising. The sun is out, the flowers are in bloom and I'm filled with restlessness and energy. Yesterday was a particularly busy day. I did good-girl things in the morning: bought fabric for the quilt I'm going to make, worked on a sewing project for my mom's birthday, and got my haircut. Hmmm... haircut. Maybe that's when I began feel a little bit wild.

I met up with a friend for lunch and we found ourselves discussing tattoos. No, I didn't go get one--I'm still not that wild! But I think she's going to get one, so we looked around town to see if we could find a tattoo parlor. But then she had to get back to work. Then I went home and convinced my brother to drive me around town in the Corvette, with the top down. We blasted rap music and wore sunglasses and pretended we were all that. But the only people that really noticed us were the guys that hang around outside the McDonald's. Oh well.

Soon it was time to meet my friends for sushi, and that is when a diabolical plan was formed.

In order to understand what happens next, you must understand that several years ago, the Chapel Hill Institute of Religion got a new director, and he brought an exuberance to the job that, while admirable, manifested itself in some odd ways. For example, he papered the walls of the classroom, floor to ceiling, in photos of temples from around the world. Now I love me some temples, but it was very jarring to the eye. Then, he drew an elaborate picture of Jesus on the chalkboard. Just good enough to be eye-catching, it wasn't a horrible drawing, but it was wierdly creepy. Larger than life, it's eyes seemed to follow you around the room, which was very distracting on Sundays during church classes. We tolerated it as a novelty, thinking it would soon be replaced by other drawings or sacrificed as a result of needing the chalkboard for its intended use. But no. The chalk Jesus remained for years.

Somehow, over sushi, the subject of the chalk Jesus came up, and my friends and I joked about how we could get rid of it. I suggested that I could alter it in some subtle way to trick its author into destroying it himself. Maybe I could make one of the eyes wink. So a plan was formed. Janet had a key to the church, and there would be no one there to see us...

I don't consider myself a bad person for defacing a chalk drawing of Jesus. It had its run, served its purpose, and needed to go.

Looking back, I think it might have been more realistic if I'd chosen the other eye instead. And because I didn't have any dark chalk to work with, it's not the best job in the world, but it gets the point across. I only wish I could have planted a hidden camera to see Brother Nichols' face when he discovers it. Because my personal theory is that his chalk drawing of Jesus was really a subconscious self-portrait, he might be more offended than he really ought to be.

So, after that, all full of adrenaline and childish glee, Howard and I celebrated our prank and topped off the night by retreating to Tyler's Taproom and winning third place in the pub quiz, as we polished off a piece of dark chocolate cake. I'd say it was a pretty good day.