Last I checked, my back didn't have the word "WELCOME" stenciled on it. You know, because it's not a doormat?

The other day, I was sitting at my desk pondering my bad luck in not being born rich and then thanking the lord I wasn’t because I would probably be more obnoxious than Paris Hilton and that Kardashian chick put together and really who wants that?

I had just had another DISAGREEMENT with Glynda. She was trying to convince me that my getting a paycheck meant my soul belonged to OZ and I was extremely lucky to even have a job in these tough economic times so I should just shut up and scrub the toilet. Not literally m’mkay? I’m just trying to say that they want me to be responsible for everybody and their mistakes plus also be everybody's vacation back up but not give me more money. I was hired for a specific position and being a babysitter/receptionist was not part of the job description. While I don't mind volunteering, I will not be walked on, bullyed or threatened into doing anything.

I gently disagreed with OZ owning my soul and also pointed out that no, he was lucky to have ME in these tough economic times. At her look of disbelief I elaborated that I, Bee Lastname, am not a believer in 1) Belittling anyone (unless I hate you and in that case I don't have control over my tongue) 2) LETTING myself FEEL belittled (because I can’t stop people from trying to belittle me, I can only stop my reaction to their stupidity)

I am an independent thinker that is not easily brainwashed into believe that OZ is my savior.

This information did not go over well with Glynda. In fact she huffed and she puffed- oh wait that a different story book- well, she put me in the crap house again.

Back to my ponderings. I was wondering what made me so different from the other lackeys who work here that enjoy bemoaning the footprints on their foreheads but never fight back because they think “he'll fire me and who will hire me?”. This led me to a shocking revelation. I have the Jehovah’s Witnesses to thank.

You read that right.

picture is from an issue of the Jehovah's Witnesses magazine on the children who have died because they were not given blood transfusions that may have saved their lives.

You see, being in the Jehovah's Witnesses (JWs) opened my eyes to something I might have missed had I not been a part of this cult. I may call it a cult because I was in it for a few years so I feel I have the right to shed a light into some of my experiences.

I was very young when we became JWs and my pops thought he had found his religion. He also sold Amway so I’m thinking he was halfway to Brainwashville and didn’t have a chance.

Even at a young age, I remember thinking that their teachings were a big crock of shit. Or crock of doo-doo since I didn’t swear back then. I noticed how the elders were always men in the upper middle class while the rest of us broke asses were delegated to do the grunt work. You know, going from house to house and getting the doors slammed in our faces? (Stories for another day)

I remember seeing the yearning in my dad’s eyes to fit in with those phonies and doing anything they asked just so they’d notice him. I hated that. You see, I knew how smart my dad was (during our stint in the JWs he was sober which I guess they did us some good for those few years), he was attractive (and this I new because of the women always staring at him), he had a gorgeous wife (and this I knew because of the men always staring at her) and a beautiful family if I do say so myself.

I didn’t feel the elders deserved the reverence everybody else showed them, respect maybe but washing their feet in a bowl of milk and lavender? I don’t think so.

As an example I give you one of the yearly pilgrimages which in this case took place in Arizona. The motel where we stayed had a swimming pool and I remember thinking ‘yay pool!’ Well they made the kids exit the pool at about 7pm so the grown ups could swim. Crummy but that’s not what this story is about.

We were sitting in the hallway outside of our motel room with our legs dangling down from the railing of the second floor. From there we had a clear view of the pool and we noticed that there were only 2 people left in there. One was one of the elder dudes who was married and the other was a young single woman who came with her sister.

They were awfully chummy. Hugging and laughing while splashing around in the pool. We decided to give his wife a little help in the cooling his pants department (okay, not really trying to help his wife, we were just kids but we knew he was doing something wrong). I got up, grabbed a bucket of ice and we started throwing ice cubes into the pool. We weren't trying to hit them and that was made apparent by us sending the ice cubes softly to the other side of the pool. I was probably 9 or so and I’m assuming my partner in crime was my brother Sergio since Dan has always been a goody 2 shoes and was probably sleeping.

The elder guy started yelling at us and his moobs were shaking as he tried climbing out of the pool. We ran into our room and dissolved in a fit of giggles. The next day, at the JW assembly, he came up to me and grabbed my arm whispering that he knew it was us throwing ice and blah blah. I remember yelling as loud as I could “LET GO OF MY ARM! YOU’RE HURTING ME!!” and then people turning to look and his face getting all red and then laughing it off like it was no big deal. Hearing the commotion, his wife came over and I decided to apologize for my bad behavior. We were at a place of worship after all, “I’m sorry we threw ice while you and that lady were hugging in the pool.”

I don’t know what happened to them because I don’t remember anything else about them after that.

Example # 2

I went to school with one of the elder’s (not the same elder who was frolicking in the pool) sons. He was a short little bastard who thought it was okay to corner me by the lockers when we were in junior high. He thought it was okay until I slammed his head against a locker and punched him in the gut. When he threatened to tell his dad so my dad could get in trouble I dared him to go ahead because I really didn’t care.

This is where my epiphany comes in.

See, what my father failed to see is that yes, the elders may have had a higher education and more material things (which is really not living the life they evangelize) but in my head, that just makes them more polished but not better than us. The fact that I resisted their brainwashing at such a young age and I was able to see through their self righteousness made me immune to any future jackholes trying to make me believe I was beneath them. Nobody has the power to make me feel inferior but me and why would I give someone that power? That just doesn’t make sense.

I’ve used that logic in every aspect of my life. When dating, I waited for the right guy to come along who appreciated me and basically deserved having me (we can all agree I'm pretty cool) and sent the rest packing. Lucky Andy! Coincidentally, he and his family were JWs for many years too. In dealing with people or mindlessly following crowds- nu-uh I do things because I want to and if others are doing it too, coolio. But! Let's not remember my skiing trip please because that was a total lapse in judgment!

This brings me back to the present day. OZ is a respected surgeon and I’m sure he worked hard to get where he is but so what? I worked hard to get where I am too. What makes his journey more special than mine? What makes him a better human being than me?

He may have more zeros and commas in his bank account but that doesn’t make my life worth less than his.

Sure, my ambition wasn’t high since all I have ever wanted was my family to be healthy and happy, my own home, a decent car and as a bonus, a man who loves me. I’d say my path was the right one since I’m right where I want to be.

The moral of this story? OZ (and people like him) can kiss my unpolished ass.