I'm a preacher's kid, and that means living under a magnifying glass. I can't so much as trip or let my hair frizz or get a C on my report card without shaming my family.

My only refuge is my anonymous blog (with maybe five readers) where I can vent. Okay, and gush about the Prince Harry lookalike of my dreams. And detail my plan to move out of state this summer.

Dad has other ideas, like forcing me to attend the local Bible college with every other judgy person I know. It makes me roll my eyes so much I know what the back wall of my skull looks like.

Will my...