Bad to the Bone

It's almost Yom Kippur which I think is a very cool holiday.  You offend someone and then you have to ask their forgiveness.  Of course, that's the hard part:  admitting to someone you done them wrong.  Now that I think about it, no one has ever asked me for forgiveness so maybe not everyone understands the procedure. The thing I miss about being Catholic is confession.  I mean, how cool is this:  you do something horrible, then go tell some guy who can't even see you--well,supposedly--and who is sworn to secrecy anyway and has no stake in your guilt then you show some contrition--God, I won't do THAT again!-- race through a couple of Hail Marys and Our Fathers and bam!  Clean slate!  You walk out of the darkness of your murky little secrets and step back over onto the side of goodness and light.  It's hard to explain that feeling of new beginnings and resolve--This time I'm going to get it right!--Damn!  And everything looks shiny and full of possibility and it's kind of like the first day of school with fresh pens and copy books and it lasts as long too: until an hour later and I look down at my desk horrified to see that I have already defiled my copy book with doodles and caricatures of the teacher and I completely missed the lesson and I know I am doomed doomed doomed because I find school so boring I want to stick the pen in my eye to relieve the tedium.  And I'm only 8 for pete's sake!  I have miles to go!  I need a new copy book!  This time I'm going to get it right.