• You’re an atheist but too scared to tell your parents.  Or yourself.
• Most your mates are Catholic.
• As soon as you’re in a small room you have an overwhelming urge to say “Bless me Father for I have sinned.” And then make up lies about things you didn’t do.
• You think nothing of being an adult calling another adult who may even be younger than you Father.
• You have a favorite Pope.  And it was John Paul II.
• You don’t think of Catholics as Christians.
• When sitting in church you don’t notice all the images of macabre torture on the walls but you can stop thinking about either food or sex.
• You’re mad for footy. And you barrack for Catholics.
• You’re parents were priest sucks.
• You always go to mass at Christmas, but Easter? You go camping,
• Growing up you regularly visited a house that had Lourdes water in the fridge.
• You’re female and you once had a crush on a priest or you’re male and you once had a crush on Sister Janet Mead.
• Most of your female relatives were pregnant before they got married.
• You or someone you know has performed liturgical dancing.
• At some point in your childhood you watched Mass For You At Home because your parents slept in.
• You’re divorced, use contraception, never go to mass, believe voluntary euthanasia should be legalized, homosexuality is not a sin, disagree with the Pope on pretty much everything, agree there should be female priests yet you want your kids to go to a Catholic school to meet the right people. And you’ll lie to get them in if that’s what it takes.
• You have no idea what the word ‘Catholic Apostolic Church” means.
• Looks like someone has ashed their cigarette out between your eyes? It must be the day after Pancake Tuesday and time to give up drinking until the day after you kiss the feet of baby Jesus and the priest washes the feet of some bloke with eczema who tends the garden round the statue of Our Lady.
• Every female in your family has Mary as a middle name.
• You played Mass with your brothers and sisters growing up.
• Even if you no longer believe, when you’re in a Catholic church involuntarily mumbling along with mass you get a disturbingly feeling of happiness that you are In The Club and you know all The Words to the Theme Song.
• You can only remember The Creed when at mass.
• Growing up you thought ten kids in one family was fine.  But 11 was just showing off.
• Attending any other denomination church made you jealous because they had carpet. And heating.
• You think it’s normal to genuflect in every church.
• You remember that pamphlet, “So, You’re Marrying A Catholic?” And all the words to Rock My Soul In The Bossom of Abraham.
• You know what holy water tastes like.
• No matter how much you don’t believe you could never throw out holy pictures or rosary beads.
• You’ve attended a ‘home mass’ a ‘rock mass’ and a ‘youth mass’
• Someone says “Peace be with you” and you’d have to have your lips sewn together to not respond, “and also with you.”
• You’ve worn a scapula.
• You went to school with a girl called Jacinta.
• You’ve even felt guilty about not feeling guilty.
• You’ve folded up Project Compassion boxes but never read the bible.
• You thought God’s name was Peter (Thanks Peter God) or Harold (Harold Be Thy Name).
• You sister married an Anglican and you still think, ‘they’re not really married’.
• You’ve eaten meat or drunk alcohol on Good Friday and prayed  “Please God don’t let my parents find out.”
• You think nothing of kneeling at groin height in front of a grown man and opening your mouth while he slips something in.

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BOOK CATHERINE 

Where do I start? Bettina Arndt wrote an article yesterday and, well, how can I put this? The woman had done the unthinkable. Made Cardinal George Pell and Sheik Al Hilay’s views on women seem modern. Scary enough if you think of Arndt, as many do, as a feminist. I’m not sure she is. She describes herself as a sex therapist and a social commentator. . I can confidently describe her as an uptight white honkie. Anyway, here we go. A bit of feedback.

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Let us have this moment. Please. It’s history and we’ll never have it again. Sure, when we realised a female PM was no longer a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ this is not quite what we were expecting. But don’t spoil it.

So many of us worked so hard and dreamed of this for so long. Julia Gillard is our Prime Minister.

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