Let's face it, being Catholic isn't the hippest religious affiliation. For those outside the faith, Catholicism brings to mind Britney Spears-esque school uniforms, odd rituals, pedophiles, dark confessionals, and archaic policies about birth control. Those inside the faith find comforting traditions, a built-in moral compass, and conflicting ideas about the role of the modern Church. This is where KnotMag comes in.

Writers Claire Zulkey and Mary Gustafson have committed themselves to carrying on a conversation about their Catholic faith. Each Friday during Lent, KnotMag will post this ongoing conversation as the writers explore their religion. The writers hope to address such questions as: "Why do you guys kneel all the time?" "When was the last time you went to confession?" and "Can Catholics take the Pill?" The writers insist that they are not Catholic experts or religious scholars.

The writers promise not to try to convert anyone, nor will they tell you that you're headed for Purgatory. Instead, they will dole out judgments about your sins and demand weekly tithes as payment for their work. Did you actually think you could escape paying tithes? Who do you think we are, Martin Luther?

*Exorcisms performed only upon request.

CLAIRE ZULKEY

Why do I always get that priest? You know the one. He's not really a fan of the small, inconspicuous, but clearly-marked cross. No, I always get the one who makes a huge smear across my forehead, letting the dust fall all over my face and rubbing it in hard enough to make it stick. I tried hard not to touch it all afternoon long so as not to make it worse, but then I just ended up looking stupid when I went out drinking afterwards. You cannot look cool drinking a Raspberry Stoli gimlet with a big huge mark on your face, even if you're the pope. It's funny, though, how if you get your ashes during the day at work like me, you get sort of this "What's up" nod from other Catholics, and this "Huh? Oh...you guys are so weird" expression from the non-gentiles.

So, I remembered to get ashes on Wednesday, and I remembered to give something up for Lent, but I forgot to fast and I forgot not to eat meat. Dammit! Oops. Actually, last night I grabbed a Girl Scout cookie of my roommates,' something called "A Friendship Circle," whatever the hell that is, and shoved it in my mouth. I originally thought it was like a hydrox cookie, you know, like a vanilla Oreo, but then I realize that the devious Girl Scouts had put chocolate in between the cookies. Did I mention that I gave up chocolate for Lent? I actually spat the cookie out into the toilet. I'm determined not to screw up this year. How hard can it be to give up chocolate for 40 days? (don't say anything)

I was talking to my friends about what you give up for Lent, and it's a fine line between realistic and just plain stupid. (I usually start off with my favorite Lenten "joke": that I'm giving up Nintendo for Lent -- it's what my brother used to give up when he was a little kid.) It's pretty embarrassing, from a religious point of view, that chocolate is a 'sacrifice'. I mean, it's no crucifixion, that's for sure. But if I tried to give up something a lot more serious, like, say, all food that's bad for me, or several habits here that I won't go into, then the chances of failure are really high, and I figure, better to succeed at something small than to fail.

Although I was tempted to give up something else after my boyfriend intimated that all women are screeching harpies whence deprived of their precious, precious chocolate.

He's dead now. (I did not give up murder for Lent.)

Happy Friday! Don't eat meat. Today I brought to lunch: cheese and crackers, peanut butter and graham crackers, and Maruchan Ramen. If I can't have meat OR chocolate, what can you possibly expect of me?

Yours in Him,
Claire

MARY GUSTAFSON

Wow, Claire, I admire your fortitude. I believe that your willingness to spit out a Girl Scout cookie is a demonstration of one of the many manifestations of Catholic Guilt. It's my belief that all mothers-to-be are required by official Church cannon to take a vow promising that they will imbed Catholic Guilt into the consciences of their children during the earliest stages of life.

I have belatedly decided to give something up for Lent. Last year it took me too long to decide, so I trashed the idea. The year before that I gave up Krispy Kremes, which some argued wasn't fair because it's a financial sacrifice to buy them in the first place. Not that that ever stopped me. No matter; it was still a difficult 40 days and nights. <insert Josh Hartnett abstinence joke here>

I don't know how it works in your family, but my mom was raised with the practice that you could do whatever you gave up for Lent on Sundays. So when I gave up chocolate, I ate it on Sundays. I've heard this is a regional Catholic behavior. And pansy-ass. This year I resolve to be strong. And since I'm starting this journey two days after Ash Wednesday, I promise to keep abstaining two days after Easter Sunday. When I was younger, I had a habit of listening to the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack when I missed Lenten masses. But I grew out of Andrew Lloyd Weber, and into Fosse and Sondheim. Maybe I'll just watch The Last Temptation of Christ this year instead.

And now, for your consideration, my proposals for what to give up this year. These are either things to abstain from, or behaviors to modify during Lent. Let me know your opinion:

• Chocolate, the perennial favorite, and one that I hate to admit to finding very difficult. It is a cliché, but PMS makes it even more trying. I fear that I may be one of those harpies your boyfriend referred to.
• Reading magazines. I gave up reading Bop one year when I was little. Bop was my main source for New Kids on the Block news and Corey-mania updates. But this year, I feel it is important to keep reading magazines, especially news mags, in our time of pre-emptive war.
• Carbonated beverages (Please don't make me do it. My sister does this one so admirably).
• Swearing. In emails and everyday conversation.
• Vicodin, for pain, I swear.
• Internet porn (kidding, mom).
• Vow to listen to talk radio (WGN or NPR) instead of CDs and FM radio when driving.
• No shopping for personal items (Wal-Mart and Target included) especially shoes, CDs, and magazines I don't have subscriptions to. Exceptions to this rule include buying gifts for friends and family.
• Eating between meals.
• Watching reality television
• Vow to quite using parentheses, and while I'm at it, take the word "like" out of my vocabulary and find a way to make Word delete it every time I use it

And now, I will go say three rosaries as penance for not starting Lent sooner.

*Mary crosses herself to signal the end of the correspondence*

Your friend,
Mary "the other blessed virgin" Gustafson