Responsibility

So I have all sorts of responsiblities right now... and while it's stressful and it's hard to find that much time to work out details, I really love what I'm doing.

For instance, I'm the editor of our school's Lit Mag. As editor, I set meeting times and contests and I run the club meetings and stuff. I get to send emails en masse and I get to bother people about submissions. It feels good...

I'm also on our schools Library Student Advisory Council, which serves as a median between the student body and the administration. I'm the president. :) The reason LSAC exists is because we're building a new library at school. I wrote a letter today to all of the people we'd like on our LSAC board. It feels so good to be involved in something that I could leave behind. Same with the Lit Mag, actually. I get to leave behind my Lit Mag legacy. :)

(I just had another Damn I'm Good moment. I got distracted and I read some short stories of mine that I wrote a while ago... Do you want to know the truth? Most of the time I don't know if I'm a good writer or not.)

Last year, before I started blogging, I was in a play called Our Town, which if you haven't heard of it is a play by Thornton Wilder. The whole play isn't meant to entertain, it's meant to inform. It's three acts: Daily Life, Marriage, and Death. The main character, Emily ends up marrying George, a longtime friend, and then she dies in childbirth in the third act (hope I'm not ruining it terribly...) but while I was reading it I realized: My life is so different from Emily's. I won't marry my nextdoor neighbor and longtime friend, I won't die in childbirth (odds do point to survival these days...) and my life isn't quaint. But what I found the most striking was, in the second act, my friend Alycia (who played Emily's mother) confronts herself in an aside before Emily is married, saying "I should have told her more, but I just couldn't." (referring, of course to the whole wedding night shabang.) I mean, Emily has graduated from high school, is probably about 19 or 20 now, and she knows about as much about her body as I knew when I was in fourth or fifth grade. I don't know why, but that just hit me hard last year.

Am I rambling? I don't know.

(tee hee hee... my foots asleep. I could probably break my toe and I wouldn't feel it.....)