One Awkward Rapture

Oh hello! I didn’t see you there. I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied. As I’m sure you’re all aware, The Rapture is but 48 hours away and I’ve not even begun to prepare! For those of you who are not Enlightened and think Rapture is a kind of dinosaur (not a joke, real question my college-educated adult roommate just asked me), on May 21, 2011, so, this coming Saturday, Jesus Christ is returning to earth! And this time, he’s not just doing woodwork or turning water into wine (wine!), he’s got a score to settle. It’s judgment day, bitches! All of the believers will be beamed up to Heaven, like the guy from Star Trek (Wars? Whatever, nerds) and the rest of us sinners will be left to rot in a post-apocalyptic wasteland until October 21 when God the Father comes down and blows this mother (Earth) up! How he’ll be doing all this judging isn’t entirely clear – I know JC’s a pretty powerful dude, but there are like 80 billion people on the planet. I mean, I love judging and consider it both my top hobby and finest skill, but even I couldn’t judge that many people all in one day, unless all of them happened to be simultaneously wearing one of those bras with the clear plastic straps under a tube dress while listening to a Ke$ha album. Clear does not equal invisible and, for fuck’s sake, you guys, she spells her name with a dollar sign. I mean, $ign. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is: Christ is going to need some help!

Here’s what I think happens. I think, and I’m almost always right about everything biblical, that Jesus & Co have recruited all of the judges of the world’s top reality TV programs to take care of the judging for him. I mean, Dancing with the Stars certainly seems like the work of the devil but what if, actually, those dudes have all been in training for May 21, 2011, the ultimate judgment? Think about it! After years of practice administering verdicts and pithy remarks to dancers, singers, chefs, fat people trying to become skinny people, etc, this Saturday they will all be compelled by the power of the Spirit to use their skills to help decide who gets Raptured and who goes the way of the raptors.

Personally, I hope to be judged by Michael Kors, but would also settle for Paula or Lil’ Mama of America’s Best Dance Crew fame.

But that’s not all we have to worry about. As noted above, May 21st is not the end for all of us! All Dogs go to Heaven, but the rest of us fools will be left to roam the earth for 5 months and, according to the website, which proves that God hates sinners but isn’t big on spelling, it’s not going to be a good scene. Think the 2nd half of Independence Day. Or I Am Legend. Or pretty much any Will Smith movie except that one where he was the homeless dad who became like a famous accountant or whatever. Burning buildings, nuclear wastelands, floods, the works.

It’s not that I’m worried, per se. I’m just not sure what to wear!

I mean, what does one pack for a 5 month staycation on a barren planet? I can’t even handle packing for a 2 day trip to my mom’s house without inducing a raging panic attack and always, inevitably, end up over packing…all the wrong things. 2 parkas in Hawaii? A ball gown for a camping trip? No underwear, ever? Sure, sure, sure. To make sure I don’t end up stranded sans culottes come May 22nd, (in the event Michael K. doesn’t send me straight up to heaven with nothing more than a witty pun and a whiff of his spray tan) I’ve started working on a list of things to pack:

• Reusable metal water bottle. Filled with wine.

• A swiss army knife, with a corkscrew.

• Additional bottles of wine.

• 15 pairs of underwear, including one pair of edible underwear. These will come in handy in case we run out of food or have to attend any bachelorette parties.

• Tina Fey’s BossyPants.

• A life-sized cutout of Michelle Obama. In the event I end up completely stranded, I’ll need my imaginary best friend.

• Nail polish.

• Nail polish remover.

• Bag full of multi-colored sharpie markers, for writing ransom notes (I’m assuming I’ll turn to crime) or arts & craft time.

• A few more bottles of wine.

• Condoms. Let’s be real here, folks. We’ve got the drama of an impending apocalypse plus all the goody-goods have been sucked up to heaven, leaving earth filled with hot, dirty, bad boys. Errrrybody’s gonna be D.T.F. I'm thinking this Post-Rapture/Pre World's End might be the perfect time for me to really slut it up after years of being a socially awkward prude. Conversely, I’m not looking to spend my last 5 months on earth battling herpes or morning sickness. Safety first!

• A French Press and real coffee mug. I’m not a heathen.

• Shorty shorts, tall boots, and a heavily padded bra. If we’re going down, I want to look like Lara Croft.

• Cheese.

• A mini fridge. For all the cheese.

• And then, whatever room is left over in my magical Mary Poppins style sack, I’ll just fill up with more wine.

And that’s where I am so far. It seems pretty thorough to me. I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I’m feeling like I’ll be doing pretttty well for myself this Rapture season. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you roll with me. Just no drinking my wine.