and this little piggy went to chapel

Going to french chapel never fails to make a momentous afternoon. We are led by little old french lady-profs who don their modest faded leather pumps, pearl necklaces, beetle brooches and glasses with neck chains. They speak with purpose, slowly and cautiously and refuse to upgrade from their yardstick to a laser pointer. Va En Paix is the last hymn we sing— every gathering in 3 unprepared groups, we all make our attempts to harmonize in the foreign language. I'll admit we've improved significantly since the first chapel. Nevertheless, we still sound like a babbling brook.

The little old lady loves it. She conducts us with another little stick as she runs, literally runs by each group, signaling our start and end notes. As we mumble to a close, she's grinning and she's thanking us for how "beautifully" we sing.

I love it.

Source: Image

Hi, my name is one you won't want to remember after tonight

I've become a worse person over the years

impatient, stubborn, angry, violent, shallow, immature, selfish, rude, obnoxious, rash

Someone needs to slap me with all the force they can muster, just, all of it.

But no one dares come near