Mortified.

I can't remember the last time I was this nervous in front of an audience. The lights hit my face and I felt my cheeks get red and then became embarrassed about my cheeks getting red; which probably made them redder. But once I began reading and realized the material was more funny than horrific, things got better. It was a fun night for all involved.

I told Vito I'd be reading a little bit about him so he, being a self proclaimed narcissist, and his girlfriend Claire were there.

Vito: Ah thanks for reminding me how little, or no, action I got in high school. Also, Claire doesn't believe me when I tell her I had really bad skin in high school. Wasn't it bad?

Sarah: Yeah it was bad.

And later,

Vito: I feel like I'm the only one who can really appreciate your journal entries. The point of view comes from such an old, traditional, Midwest, Catholic guilt, kind of place. I don't think the Catholic schools are as bad out here.

Claire seemed to disagree so we began to rattle off stories from high school. If the priests and nuns had their way we would have ended these stories with 'I learned a lot about life' or 'I feel morally stronger because of this' but most of them ended in 'And then it was confusing' or 'The world was screwed up' or 'It kept me from talking to the opposite sex.'

Claire: Yeah...it's not that bad here.