i am going to be swarthmore college's ms. december.
or rather, the woman in charge of the december parents' newsletter has decided to do a thing on me and my poitri. she's going to print "our visit," aka the t. s. eliot poem, as well as my poitical inspirations, plans for the future (ha), and a picture. the picture scares me. after all, ich ne look like this pas:
although wouldn't it be great if i did? i mean, wow.