oh yeah...I no longer live here
emily.nilzero.com
is where you'll find the cracked out new stuff
peace
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
Rethinking Love in its true Form, whatever that Means
The last time I was in love, my heart felt like it was going to burst. It was a lie though, Johnny Garrison was just using me as a pawn and then I realized that the love I felt for Johnny...the gratitude that I had for helping me cope with my alcohol poisoning, his black sweatshirt sprinkled with my vomit...his soft blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. I could be sentimental and say he killed my love, but it's not true. I just gave all the love I had to give to the wrong person. Now I believe I have no more left to give.
This week has been a strange week for me. Hormonally, I am a sexual wreck...I usually am a few days after my period ends. Hopefully this desire will back down...
My therapist dove into my first sexual experience, she told me I was lucky that Peter loved me and that my first experience was a happy one. I left the office missing Peter. So what if he can't spell, and he's an alcoholic...he did love me and treated me well and respected me (sort of). I just miss him throwing me against the band room lockers during lunch, his body pressed into mine. I had bruises up and down my arms...but it was so passionate, so enticing...so forbidden...
I hate relying on the kindness of outside sources, of men of my past desperately seeking entrance to something they had years before...of time travelling back to when times were different. I'm a changed person.
West Point Jason has also expressed his love for me...and sadly I cannot return the feelings. I feel trapped in some ninteenth century British novel...where I, the woman that everyone wants...can't do anything to help or save herself from a fate that will haunt her. Murder is her crime because she has no love to give. I have passion, I desire love in all its forms...but even as men boldly step out and confess love, I cannot reply good things.
In all my passionate escapades...I only hope that my future ones will not leave me fulfilled but emptier than before. That's what happens to me. All I ask for is to be respected, not used...cared for, and not stepped on.
I long to be fiulfilled in all aspects. Doesn't everyone?
I shouldn't bitch about how it's not fair...there are plenty of men that care about me...some people have nothing.
I just wish I had love and trust to give...but I don't, that's what makes it so hard.
The last time I was in love, my heart felt like it was going to burst. It was a lie though, Johnny Garrison was just using me as a pawn and then I realized that the love I felt for Johnny...the gratitude that I had for helping me cope with my alcohol poisoning, his black sweatshirt sprinkled with my vomit...his soft blonde hair and stormy blue eyes. I could be sentimental and say he killed my love, but it's not true. I just gave all the love I had to give to the wrong person. Now I believe I have no more left to give.
This week has been a strange week for me. Hormonally, I am a sexual wreck...I usually am a few days after my period ends. Hopefully this desire will back down...
My therapist dove into my first sexual experience, she told me I was lucky that Peter loved me and that my first experience was a happy one. I left the office missing Peter. So what if he can't spell, and he's an alcoholic...he did love me and treated me well and respected me (sort of). I just miss him throwing me against the band room lockers during lunch, his body pressed into mine. I had bruises up and down my arms...but it was so passionate, so enticing...so forbidden...
I hate relying on the kindness of outside sources, of men of my past desperately seeking entrance to something they had years before...of time travelling back to when times were different. I'm a changed person.
West Point Jason has also expressed his love for me...and sadly I cannot return the feelings. I feel trapped in some ninteenth century British novel...where I, the woman that everyone wants...can't do anything to help or save herself from a fate that will haunt her. Murder is her crime because she has no love to give. I have passion, I desire love in all its forms...but even as men boldly step out and confess love, I cannot reply good things.
In all my passionate escapades...I only hope that my future ones will not leave me fulfilled but emptier than before. That's what happens to me. All I ask for is to be respected, not used...cared for, and not stepped on.
I long to be fiulfilled in all aspects. Doesn't everyone?
I shouldn't bitch about how it's not fair...there are plenty of men that care about me...some people have nothing.
I just wish I had love and trust to give...but I don't, that's what makes it so hard.
Saturday, April 05, 2003
Reflections of a Spring Breaker
Back at Bard, I have been working for the past few hours (with a quick break to have a bowl of soup and watch the latest Pete and Pete episode I have dled) and thinking about my spring break as a whole. My spring break wasn't full of relaxation, but it certainly was nice to getaway from all the baggage Bard has to offer.
Last night I watched Pi with my newest friends, the gang at Nilzero heavy industries. The group consists of me, kevin, tom, konstantin, and Chris. They're such good people, it's great to have friends to come home to when you are home.
Back at Bard, I think about what happened...you worked, you experienced time travel a la blue couch, and you watched great hotels. All in all...the week a normal person could say was wasted, but I assure you that I am fully satisfied with my spring break experience.
Back at Bard on the other hand, the place is still sucking me dry. My play that I'm writing about the Darien "Underage Drinking Patrol" section of the Darien Times, the play is called "The Under 21" is a strange twisted guardian angel telling the poor lost souls who got themselves arrested last week (I know all of them...I lost my virginity to one of them, and slept in the same bed with one of them when I was ten)...that they have to change their attitudes else they will end up in prison. It's darker than I like to go, but it's pretty good. Anytime where I get to write about Peter is always a joy (though I make him sound like a sophisticated thirty something from England, but that's Masterpiece theater's fault...)
Anyway, I should finish unpacking my massive pile of clean clothing and then, time to read "Vile Bodies" by Waugh.
Umm..yay?
Back at Bard, I have been working for the past few hours (with a quick break to have a bowl of soup and watch the latest Pete and Pete episode I have dled) and thinking about my spring break as a whole. My spring break wasn't full of relaxation, but it certainly was nice to getaway from all the baggage Bard has to offer.
Last night I watched Pi with my newest friends, the gang at Nilzero heavy industries. The group consists of me, kevin, tom, konstantin, and Chris. They're such good people, it's great to have friends to come home to when you are home.
Back at Bard, I think about what happened...you worked, you experienced time travel a la blue couch, and you watched great hotels. All in all...the week a normal person could say was wasted, but I assure you that I am fully satisfied with my spring break experience.
Back at Bard on the other hand, the place is still sucking me dry. My play that I'm writing about the Darien "Underage Drinking Patrol" section of the Darien Times, the play is called "The Under 21" is a strange twisted guardian angel telling the poor lost souls who got themselves arrested last week (I know all of them...I lost my virginity to one of them, and slept in the same bed with one of them when I was ten)...that they have to change their attitudes else they will end up in prison. It's darker than I like to go, but it's pretty good. Anytime where I get to write about Peter is always a joy (though I make him sound like a sophisticated thirty something from England, but that's Masterpiece theater's fault...)
Anyway, I should finish unpacking my massive pile of clean clothing and then, time to read "Vile Bodies" by Waugh.
Umm..yay?
Thursday, April 03, 2003
A little Journey into the Past...riding the Blue Couch the whole way
I am now 20, though last night...I felt as though I were 18 or even 16 again...
It's all because of one boy that was my devoted companion throughout all of high school. John F. O'Leary.
I hated John for most of my college career because I blame myself for what he had turned into. A power hungry Republican who enjoyed to slide through the female mind a little too often. I was the first, I had the plans to turn him into a "real man" I have blueprints, if you want to see them, I will gladly show them to you. I drew them out while lying on the beach on St. Croix.
Nothing has changed between John and I. We went for the signature drive through backwoods CT and ended up in Westport and then back in New Canaan...the O'Leary household hasn't changed, another car in the driveway...John's Jeep. While we drove, he told me of his escapades...He's doing a so-called "Reunion Special" where he is seeing the women of his past again. What I used to call "Operation: Viva Revolucion"...He hooked up with Grace again...which confused me a great deal.
And then that blue couch. The child like aspects of the O'Leary den had been removed so all that's left was a very bright and saddening space. Stanford magazines littered the coffee table (John's dad and soon to be John's Alma Mater)...
Riding the blue couch is like a ride into the past. Things come back while taking a ride of the couch...the masterpiece "No Means No" was written about the blue couch...I got felt up for the first time on the blue couch on Feb. 26, 2000 when John was only fourteen years old. I remember the date, what I was wearing, what we were watching. Mr. O'Leary is always still smoking a cigarette at the kitchen table when I show up. The dog always jumps on me. It's like the house stays the same...no one gets older, nothing changes...everything stays the same.
John wants to take me to brunch at the country club and to the opera. I was angry at him because for eight months, I feared he forgotten who I was. And now that we're back to the old times...I feel like I need to grow up.
Anyway, Jonah Bloch-Johnson, a genius camper of mine sent me a postcard from Spain. It was great to hear from him. I was always jealous of his sheer brilliance.
Time for work...
I found a poem I wrote on Election Night 2000 in my old senior journal...
Election
Midnight----> Dark, Dreary...I'm on the bottom, Bush is on Top
And it pains him to see I'm not enjoying it, only wanting his opponent
Just Close your eyes Emily and pretend it's him for the Next Four Years...
I am now 20, though last night...I felt as though I were 18 or even 16 again...
It's all because of one boy that was my devoted companion throughout all of high school. John F. O'Leary.
I hated John for most of my college career because I blame myself for what he had turned into. A power hungry Republican who enjoyed to slide through the female mind a little too often. I was the first, I had the plans to turn him into a "real man" I have blueprints, if you want to see them, I will gladly show them to you. I drew them out while lying on the beach on St. Croix.
Nothing has changed between John and I. We went for the signature drive through backwoods CT and ended up in Westport and then back in New Canaan...the O'Leary household hasn't changed, another car in the driveway...John's Jeep. While we drove, he told me of his escapades...He's doing a so-called "Reunion Special" where he is seeing the women of his past again. What I used to call "Operation: Viva Revolucion"...He hooked up with Grace again...which confused me a great deal.
And then that blue couch. The child like aspects of the O'Leary den had been removed so all that's left was a very bright and saddening space. Stanford magazines littered the coffee table (John's dad and soon to be John's Alma Mater)...
Riding the blue couch is like a ride into the past. Things come back while taking a ride of the couch...the masterpiece "No Means No" was written about the blue couch...I got felt up for the first time on the blue couch on Feb. 26, 2000 when John was only fourteen years old. I remember the date, what I was wearing, what we were watching. Mr. O'Leary is always still smoking a cigarette at the kitchen table when I show up. The dog always jumps on me. It's like the house stays the same...no one gets older, nothing changes...everything stays the same.
John wants to take me to brunch at the country club and to the opera. I was angry at him because for eight months, I feared he forgotten who I was. And now that we're back to the old times...I feel like I need to grow up.
Anyway, Jonah Bloch-Johnson, a genius camper of mine sent me a postcard from Spain. It was great to hear from him. I was always jealous of his sheer brilliance.
Time for work...
I found a poem I wrote on Election Night 2000 in my old senior journal...
Election
Midnight----> Dark, Dreary...I'm on the bottom, Bush is on Top
And it pains him to see I'm not enjoying it, only wanting his opponent
Just Close your eyes Emily and pretend it's him for the Next Four Years...
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
A now, for a little change of scenery...
Things are going to move around here in my life. As for this website, "See Emily Play" will soon turn into a blog at www.nilzero.com, our magical new website that Kevin, Chris, Tom and Konstantin are putting up. Nilzero is just a place to put our crazy anti war sentiment, complete with a good flash opening.
Another sad change, I regret to inform you on the death of prospect14. She was murdered by the CEO dicks at AOL...and now I am forced to change to the new emilystarrunner, so if you wish to accuse me and hate me...IM emilystarrunner
Spring break has been full of reading, work, and sitting next to Topher Grace at the Sugar Bowl today...nothing beats having Eric from That 70's show live in your town and sit next to him at the sugar bowl, Darien's own eatery.
Nothing more to tell you...just telling you that there's going to be some changes in my life...
Be prepared!
Things are going to move around here in my life. As for this website, "See Emily Play" will soon turn into a blog at www.nilzero.com, our magical new website that Kevin, Chris, Tom and Konstantin are putting up. Nilzero is just a place to put our crazy anti war sentiment, complete with a good flash opening.
Another sad change, I regret to inform you on the death of prospect14. She was murdered by the CEO dicks at AOL...and now I am forced to change to the new emilystarrunner, so if you wish to accuse me and hate me...IM emilystarrunner
Spring break has been full of reading, work, and sitting next to Topher Grace at the Sugar Bowl today...nothing beats having Eric from That 70's show live in your town and sit next to him at the sugar bowl, Darien's own eatery.
Nothing more to tell you...just telling you that there's going to be some changes in my life...
Be prepared!
Monday, March 31, 2003
Being a Republican Woman in a Republican Town...
Spring break's not as glamorous or as dirty as it is on "Bling Bling Break" MTV...but I'm getting by. I've been doing a lot of Republican chores in this Republican town with yellow ribbons over its eyes.
On Saturday I saw Alex, and even baked him cookies...as I preheated the oven, I felt as though it were not 2003, but 1943...baking cookies for servicemen who were going to fight the big evil power abroad...alas, I still baked them. And they were damn good.
Today's baking assignment: Cake
I went to the grocery store today too...and I'm making dinner tonight. What's happening to me? I've also been taking baths, doing pilates...wearing make-up, thinking about taking a dance class next semester, looking my age...This isn't Emily. Where did Emily go? The Republican incubus took her soul in the night, and now...she's trapped in a vortex world of supporting her troops, wearing skirts, and being afraid of change.
Spring break is all about change...it's all about trying to regroup from the chaos of school. If only school didn't follow me home. This week I have a 5 page paper to write. How sad.
Though don't get me wrong, I've had a really good time. I've been hanging out with Kevin, Konstantin, Chris and Tom (that conversation under this is the result of our hanging out...it takes a long time but I highly suggest you read it, shows you what America's youth is up to...and it ain't pretty) and I'm probably going to see them tonight. They're a fun group (wow, sound like my mom there)..
Well, I'm going to go watch Hannah and her sisters...I've already done enough work for today.
Spring break's not as glamorous or as dirty as it is on "Bling Bling Break" MTV...but I'm getting by. I've been doing a lot of Republican chores in this Republican town with yellow ribbons over its eyes.
On Saturday I saw Alex, and even baked him cookies...as I preheated the oven, I felt as though it were not 2003, but 1943...baking cookies for servicemen who were going to fight the big evil power abroad...alas, I still baked them. And they were damn good.
Today's baking assignment: Cake
I went to the grocery store today too...and I'm making dinner tonight. What's happening to me? I've also been taking baths, doing pilates...wearing make-up, thinking about taking a dance class next semester, looking my age...This isn't Emily. Where did Emily go? The Republican incubus took her soul in the night, and now...she's trapped in a vortex world of supporting her troops, wearing skirts, and being afraid of change.
Spring break is all about change...it's all about trying to regroup from the chaos of school. If only school didn't follow me home. This week I have a 5 page paper to write. How sad.
Though don't get me wrong, I've had a really good time. I've been hanging out with Kevin, Konstantin, Chris and Tom (that conversation under this is the result of our hanging out...it takes a long time but I highly suggest you read it, shows you what America's youth is up to...and it ain't pretty) and I'm probably going to see them tonight. They're a fun group (wow, sound like my mom there)..
Well, I'm going to go watch Hannah and her sisters...I've already done enough work for today.
Sunday, March 30, 2003
And now, a poetic benediction, for two people who need to be shot:
WANKERJ: so ...how about this crazy war were having....
WANKERJ: sorry, thats not a good conversation opener
Thunderslut: lol... it depends on what kind of conversation you're looking for
WANKERJ: one that doesnt contain a Bush
Thunderslut: then yeah, thats probably an opening line you'll want to avoid
Thunderslut: ;-)
WANKERJ: so how is life? (also dull conv opener)
Thunderslut: at the moment, it's in a state of improvement... so i'd say good
Thunderslut: how bout you?
WANKERJ: FANTASTIC>>>>>>>IM ON PROZAC!!!!!!!!
WANKERJ: bad color
WANKERJ: not really..........everything is fine
WANKERJ: spring break is coming to a close
WANKERJ: love is in the air
WANKERJ: as well as missles
WANKERJ: so its all good
Thunderslut: on the optimistic side, at least the missles aren't coming down over here
WANKERJ: nah......that isnt very optimistic
WANKERJ: bombs are bombs......people are people
WANKERJ: sorry for being preachy
Thunderslut: it's ok, i totally agree on that one... i take shit from my friends all the time for being all anti-war
WANKERJ: well friends are made to challenge us i guess
WANKERJ: but if they piss you off, just dont attack them and people that look like them
WANKERJ: and everything will be swell
Thunderslut: seems fair enough... and logical too ^_^
WANKERJ: cute smile
Thunderslut: hehe why thank you
WANKERJ: the typed smile is cute also
WANKERJ: ;-)
Thunderslut: you're a charmer aren't you?
WANKERJ: just look at me...........im adorable
WANKERJ: he he he
Thunderslut: what are the odds of two such adorable and modest people as us randomly finding each other on a website?
Thunderslut: it must be fate
Thunderslut: :-P
WANKERJ: that smiley face ruined a perfect soap opera moment
WANKERJ: you actually are modest...........my profile scares people
Thunderslut: why should it scare people
WANKERJ: I DONT KNOW.......THE SEX KEYWORD IS ALWAYS A SIGNAL..........AND THE WHOLE ARTIST / MUSICIAN THING PROBLEM IS MENTALLY TRANSLATED INTO : BUM
WANKERJ: OH WELL
Thunderslut: well point me to anyone who says an artist is a bum and i'll beat them with a paintbrush
WANKERJ: wow........i think im in love
Thunderslut: hehe
Thunderslut: of course you are ;-)
Thunderslut: i'm quite lovable
WANKERJ: i sure you are
WANKERJ: and you can actually converse!!!
WANKERJ: im just waiting to find out you are a 45 year old man!
Thunderslut: god i hope not... if i am, i really need to sit down and have a good long talk with my mom to see what else shes been hiding all these years
WANKERJ: and funny to boot
Thunderslut: i try :-D
Thunderslut: so tell me about yourself
WANKERJ: um
Thunderslut: what're dreams, goals, kinky sex secrets?
WANKERJ: 22 yrs old
WANKERJ: gorgeous, well hung, sensitive artsy musician
WANKERJ: he he
WANKERJ: records music and
WANKERJ: makes experimental videos
WANKERJ: umm. a little bit of an exhibitionist
WANKERJ: ummmm....
WANKERJ: i like tofu
WANKERJ: not a vegetarian though
WANKERJ: im scaring you arent I
WANKERJ: muah ha ha ha ha!
Thunderslut: experimental videos and exhibitionism? i think you need to explain that part... i'm not scared... intrigued
WANKERJ: well
WANKERJ: i made a piece where i was auditioning for a gay porno
WANKERJ: and i had 20 layers of clothing on
WANKERJ: and i was peeling off layer by layer.....while going into an autobiographical rant
WANKERJ: directed toward a silent character offscreen
WANKERJ: by the time i was naked....i acted as if the off screen character lost interest in me
WANKERJ: the camera gets shut off and the screen says:
WANKERJ: audition tip #1
WANKERJ: talking can be a big turnoff
Thunderslut: hmmm
WANKERJ: then i showed it to the school
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmm...is right
Thunderslut: how'd it go over?
WANKERJ: i got 3 girls phone #'s
WANKERJ: and 4 guys #'s
WANKERJ: just kidding
WANKERJ: my teacher said it was brilliant
WANKERJ: oh....and by the way.......I'm not gay....obviously
Thunderslut: quite the ego-boost
Thunderslut: lol
Thunderslut: i didn't think you were
WANKERJ: but pretending can be BIG FUN!
WANKERJ: man....im suprised i havent scared you away yet
Thunderslut: i don't scare easy
WANKERJ: we'll see about that
Thunderslut: you planning on trying to scare me away?
WANKERJ: no ....not at all
Thunderslut: ok good
WANKERJ: so
WANKERJ: what about your kinky secrets?
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmmmmm
WANKERJ: you better be typing something as good as Penthouse Letters
WANKERJ: or i will be thoroughly disappointed
Thunderslut: hmm well, i'm 20, up for just about anything, been in a couple borderline ogiastic situations, am not averse to cameras, 3/4 of the guys i've been with say i'm the best they've ever had and the rest is between me and my hand cuffs
WANKERJ: i feel foolish......what is an ogiastic situation?
WANKERJ: teach me
WANKERJ: you didnt have to be so detailed......but go on if you wish...he he he
Thunderslut: hehe... well i didn't want to disappoint you
WANKERJ: damn......im suprised
Thunderslut: why?
WANKERJ: from the pick i thought you were little miss innocent
WANKERJ: so cute......yet so deadly
WANKERJ: anyway.............ogiastic?
WANKERJ: teach me
Thunderslut: orgiastic...several people, dim lights, locked doors, and very little clothing... ok next to none, and very sexual behavior... your basic nude party
WANKERJ: oh....okay.......
WANKERJ: damn.......
WANKERJ: i want some pics
Thunderslut: alas and alack, there are none
WANKERJ: youll just have to re enact it for me
Thunderslut: hmmm i'd consider it
WANKERJ: so...3/4ths of the guys huh....first of all .....how many guys do you have to be with to start finding lowest common denominators........and what did the other 4th say.....
Thunderslut: hey, how'd you know that doesn't mean i've been with 4 guys and 3 say i'm the best.... although it doesn't
WANKERJ: im kidding......i dont judge on numbers
Thunderslut: fine by me
WANKERJ: anyway..... i need an experienced girl
WANKERJ: ;-)
Thunderslut: and why's that? need someone to keep up with you?
WANKERJ: im tryin to date right now....and all the girls that hit on me are either underage or nearly virgins...or really conservative........or all 3
WANKERJ: yeah....my last gf said she hopes i find someone who loves sex as much as me
WANKERJ: then i tried to dry hump her leg
WANKERJ: :-D
Thunderslut: hehe...you're funny
Thunderslut: and a little twisted
Thunderslut: i like that
WANKERJ: why thank you
WANKERJ: oh really?
WANKERJ: yeah.....i hate making jokes that go over girls heads.....
WANKERJ: but im not going to pander to them
WANKERJ: oh well
Thunderslut: never dumb down... there are plenty of stupid people in the world...we don't need more
WANKERJ: guess ill just have to wait for a sexy and smart girl who doesnt mind handcuffs and enjoys orgiastic situations
WANKERJ: but where will i find one?
Thunderslut: well... my mama said never to give my address to strangers
Thunderslut: but you're not strange...lol maybe a little
WANKERJ: i could follow that up with ssooooooooo much
WANKERJ: oh.......yes i have a good serving of freak in me
WANKERJ: but im as gentle as a mouse
Thunderslut: me too... i only bite on request
WANKERJ: mmmmmmmmm
WANKERJ: im really hoping you arent a fat guy
Thunderslut: i'm really not.... you're not a big toothless woman named susie-may are you?
WANKERJ: actually, i spell it susie-mae
WANKERJ: seriously though
WANKERJ: thats really me, if you can believe it....
WANKERJ: i know i know
WANKERJ: so gorgeous
WANKERJ: yet so intelligent
WANKERJ: and modest
Thunderslut: exactly what i was thinking
WANKERJ: so are you dating right now?
WANKERJ: married and lonely?
WANKERJ: recently divorced?
WANKERJ: looking for sex slave?
Thunderslut: i'm not dating anyone, i've never been married, and i'm always in the market for a sex slave
WANKERJ: damn.....im your man
WANKERJ: your place or mine?
WANKERJ: ;-)
WANKERJ: its hard being this smooth
WANKERJ: but i pull it off admirably
Thunderslut: how do you deal with the pressure?
WANKERJ: we should go on a harmless date though...
WANKERJ: lots of masturbation
WANKERJ: and booze
WANKERJ: kills the pain
WANKERJ: anyway about that date i was mentioning LOL
Thunderslut: as long as there's only the good kind of pain
Thunderslut: the kind that comes with a safety word
WANKERJ: hmmmmm.....im seriously worried now.....youre too good to be true
WANKERJ: and that pic is starting to look sketchy to me
Thunderslut: sketchy? i'm not sketchy
WANKERJ: beautiful but sketchy
Thunderslut: how am i sketchy?
WANKERJ: actually...incredibly beautiful
WANKERJ: im being neurotic
WANKERJ: not sketchy.....i just dont want to be played with
WANKERJ: well...um...i mean......well you know what i mean
Thunderslut: good... i'm not into games... not the emotional kind anyway
WANKERJ: yeah.......ive been in 2 loooooooooong term relationships.....and ive never been single until now
WANKERJ: so im looking for a light, honest, relationship based on good conversation and ridiculous sex
WANKERJ: and good food
WANKERJ: i know thats alot to ask
Thunderslut: a man after my own heart
WANKERJ: hmmmmm....what are you looking for?
WANKERJ: honestly
Thunderslut: some fun...nothing too serious and whatever happens, happens
WANKERJ: of course
WANKERJ: well, i can be alot of fun!
WANKERJ: i dont wanna rush things
WANKERJ: but the bombs could start droppin any minute!
Thunderslut: well you do seem like a lot of fun
WANKERJ: so much fun.....unbelievable carnivalesque fun
Thunderslut: well then what do you want to do?
WANKERJ: well......hmm....meeting in some neutral public place works
WANKERJ: a restaurant
WANKERJ: if you realize im an ugly fool.....you can just run away
WANKERJ: if we hit it off..........we could always retire to the women's room
WANKERJ: whatever happens........happens
Thunderslut: well part of the problem is that i only have a car for one more night while i'm still home and i have plans for tomorrow
Thunderslut: on sunday i'm back up at school
WANKERJ: oh....no rush
Thunderslut: but no car
WANKERJ: your on Uconns campus
Thunderslut: yep
WANKERJ: oh thats nothing....thats a 20 min drive for me from my apartment
WANKERJ: which i live in ..........alone and lonely;-)
WANKERJ: hehe
Thunderslut: awww... how do you cope?
WANKERJ: now im just being silly
WANKERJ: masturbation and booze....you forgot so quickly
Thunderslut: oh sorry...my mistake
WANKERJ: but whenever you have time......i would love to get together
Thunderslut: so would i
WANKERJ: so...then.....when do you have free time?
WANKERJ: Sunday night?
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmmmmm?
Thunderslut: hey i have a week's worth of assignments i haven't done yet...lol
Thunderslut: i work most weeknights
Thunderslut: and saturdays
WANKERJ: yeah....i work weekends
WANKERJ: and weeknights
WANKERJ: youre poor too huh?
Thunderslut: yeah... side effect of going to college
WANKERJ: yeah......im payin for EVERYTHING myself
Thunderslut: ouch
WANKERJ: ouch indeed
WANKERJ: not the good kind of pain
Thunderslut: not at all... i get by with my parents goodwill, scholarships and loans
WANKERJ: anyway......enough about money.....more about you and how beautiful and sexy and unbelievably available you are
WANKERJ: i am pretty charming huh?
Thunderslut: you are incredibly charming... i'll add that to the list of accolades when i write in my diary tonight... well i'm most available on monday and friday nights... and sundays provided i'm not ignoring my classes
WANKERJ: so this upcoming sunday or monday?
Thunderslut: monday'd be good
WANKERJ: what time ?
WANKERJ: 6, 7, 8?
Thunderslut: whatever's good for you... and what shall we be doing monday night?
WANKERJ: some useless activity that will be an excuse for me to talk and flirt with you heavily
Thunderslut: sounds good to me
WANKERJ: we could ingest food
WANKERJ: is there a place across from the campus?
WANKERJ: simple little restaurant
WANKERJ: cheap.....cramped
WANKERJ: with a spacious womens room handicapped stall
WANKERJ: sorry.......that was too far.
Thunderslut: the closest restaurant to campus is friendly's and i've never been in their womens room
WANKERJ: well theres a first time for everything!
WANKERJ: friendlys would be perfect!
WANKERJ: ive heard it has a friendly atmosphere
Thunderslut: ^_^ it does indeed
WANKERJ: very cool.......um........so i this is the part where i awkwardly ask for your phone #
Thunderslut: yeah... and then i awkwardly debate about whether i shuld give yuo my dorm # or my cell
WANKERJ: and i am once again impressed by your wit
Thunderslut: thank you
WANKERJ: well, take your time....i really dont want to rush you
Thunderslut: 203-LUV-DICK cell; 860-EAT-MEUP dorm
Thunderslut: use whichever
WANKERJ: ok
WANKERJ: are your roomates cute too
WANKERJ: ;-)
WANKERJ: kidding....im not that much of a pig
Thunderslut: aww she is cute though
Thunderslut: lol but she has a bf
WANKERJ: oh well
WANKERJ: you sound like too much to handle anyway
WANKERJ: ummmmm that didnt come out right
WANKERJ: you sound like a handfull...............no that isnt good either
Thunderslut: i'll keep you on your toes
WANKERJ: ill curl yours
WANKERJ: hehe
Thunderslut: ooo... i'll hold you to that
WANKERJ: im sure you will
WANKERJ: actually.....im a virgin
Thunderslut: really? or are you just trying to see what i'll say?
WANKERJ: damn....youre good
WANKERJ: seriously girl.......how could someone who looks like ME be a virgin
WANKERJ: man.....i sound so cocky tonight
Thunderslut: it's hot though
WANKERJ: oh yeah?
Thunderslut: yeah
WANKERJ: good.....
WANKERJ: well, im sure youre tired.....and i dont want to keep you up....he he he
Thunderslut: yeah... you should be resting up for monday night
WANKERJ: jesus.... im glad i clicked yes
Thunderslut: so am i
WANKERJ: ok beautiful ... ill call you monday after 5pm
Thunderslut: sounds like an excellent idea
WANKERJ: yes
WANKERJ: have a great night Liz
Thunderslut: goodnight jeremy
WANKERJ: sweet dreams
Thunderslut: kinky dreams ;-)
WANKERJ: thanks to you
Thunderslut: hehe... night night
WANKERJ: night night
And that's all I have to say about that.
WANKERJ: so ...how about this crazy war were having....
WANKERJ: sorry, thats not a good conversation opener
Thunderslut: lol... it depends on what kind of conversation you're looking for
WANKERJ: one that doesnt contain a Bush
Thunderslut: then yeah, thats probably an opening line you'll want to avoid
Thunderslut: ;-)
WANKERJ: so how is life? (also dull conv opener)
Thunderslut: at the moment, it's in a state of improvement... so i'd say good
Thunderslut: how bout you?
WANKERJ: FANTASTIC>>>>>>>IM ON PROZAC!!!!!!!!
WANKERJ: bad color
WANKERJ: not really..........everything is fine
WANKERJ: spring break is coming to a close
WANKERJ: love is in the air
WANKERJ: as well as missles
WANKERJ: so its all good
Thunderslut: on the optimistic side, at least the missles aren't coming down over here
WANKERJ: nah......that isnt very optimistic
WANKERJ: bombs are bombs......people are people
WANKERJ: sorry for being preachy
Thunderslut: it's ok, i totally agree on that one... i take shit from my friends all the time for being all anti-war
WANKERJ: well friends are made to challenge us i guess
WANKERJ: but if they piss you off, just dont attack them and people that look like them
WANKERJ: and everything will be swell
Thunderslut: seems fair enough... and logical too ^_^
WANKERJ: cute smile
Thunderslut: hehe why thank you
WANKERJ: the typed smile is cute also
WANKERJ: ;-)
Thunderslut: you're a charmer aren't you?
WANKERJ: just look at me...........im adorable
WANKERJ: he he he
Thunderslut: what are the odds of two such adorable and modest people as us randomly finding each other on a website?
Thunderslut: it must be fate
Thunderslut: :-P
WANKERJ: that smiley face ruined a perfect soap opera moment
WANKERJ: you actually are modest...........my profile scares people
Thunderslut: why should it scare people
WANKERJ: I DONT KNOW.......THE SEX KEYWORD IS ALWAYS A SIGNAL..........AND THE WHOLE ARTIST / MUSICIAN THING PROBLEM IS MENTALLY TRANSLATED INTO : BUM
WANKERJ: OH WELL
Thunderslut: well point me to anyone who says an artist is a bum and i'll beat them with a paintbrush
WANKERJ: wow........i think im in love
Thunderslut: hehe
Thunderslut: of course you are ;-)
Thunderslut: i'm quite lovable
WANKERJ: i sure you are
WANKERJ: and you can actually converse!!!
WANKERJ: im just waiting to find out you are a 45 year old man!
Thunderslut: god i hope not... if i am, i really need to sit down and have a good long talk with my mom to see what else shes been hiding all these years
WANKERJ: and funny to boot
Thunderslut: i try :-D
Thunderslut: so tell me about yourself
WANKERJ: um
Thunderslut: what're dreams, goals, kinky sex secrets?
WANKERJ: 22 yrs old
WANKERJ: gorgeous, well hung, sensitive artsy musician
WANKERJ: he he
WANKERJ: records music and
WANKERJ: makes experimental videos
WANKERJ: umm. a little bit of an exhibitionist
WANKERJ: ummmm....
WANKERJ: i like tofu
WANKERJ: not a vegetarian though
WANKERJ: im scaring you arent I
WANKERJ: muah ha ha ha ha!
Thunderslut: experimental videos and exhibitionism? i think you need to explain that part... i'm not scared... intrigued
WANKERJ: well
WANKERJ: i made a piece where i was auditioning for a gay porno
WANKERJ: and i had 20 layers of clothing on
WANKERJ: and i was peeling off layer by layer.....while going into an autobiographical rant
WANKERJ: directed toward a silent character offscreen
WANKERJ: by the time i was naked....i acted as if the off screen character lost interest in me
WANKERJ: the camera gets shut off and the screen says:
WANKERJ: audition tip #1
WANKERJ: talking can be a big turnoff
Thunderslut: hmmm
WANKERJ: then i showed it to the school
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmm...is right
Thunderslut: how'd it go over?
WANKERJ: i got 3 girls phone #'s
WANKERJ: and 4 guys #'s
WANKERJ: just kidding
WANKERJ: my teacher said it was brilliant
WANKERJ: oh....and by the way.......I'm not gay....obviously
Thunderslut: quite the ego-boost
Thunderslut: lol
Thunderslut: i didn't think you were
WANKERJ: but pretending can be BIG FUN!
WANKERJ: man....im suprised i havent scared you away yet
Thunderslut: i don't scare easy
WANKERJ: we'll see about that
Thunderslut: you planning on trying to scare me away?
WANKERJ: no ....not at all
Thunderslut: ok good
WANKERJ: so
WANKERJ: what about your kinky secrets?
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmmmmm
WANKERJ: you better be typing something as good as Penthouse Letters
WANKERJ: or i will be thoroughly disappointed
Thunderslut: hmm well, i'm 20, up for just about anything, been in a couple borderline ogiastic situations, am not averse to cameras, 3/4 of the guys i've been with say i'm the best they've ever had and the rest is between me and my hand cuffs
WANKERJ: i feel foolish......what is an ogiastic situation?
WANKERJ: teach me
WANKERJ: you didnt have to be so detailed......but go on if you wish...he he he
Thunderslut: hehe... well i didn't want to disappoint you
WANKERJ: damn......im suprised
Thunderslut: why?
WANKERJ: from the pick i thought you were little miss innocent
WANKERJ: so cute......yet so deadly
WANKERJ: anyway.............ogiastic?
WANKERJ: teach me
Thunderslut: orgiastic...several people, dim lights, locked doors, and very little clothing... ok next to none, and very sexual behavior... your basic nude party
WANKERJ: oh....okay.......
WANKERJ: damn.......
WANKERJ: i want some pics
Thunderslut: alas and alack, there are none
WANKERJ: youll just have to re enact it for me
Thunderslut: hmmm i'd consider it
WANKERJ: so...3/4ths of the guys huh....first of all .....how many guys do you have to be with to start finding lowest common denominators........and what did the other 4th say.....
Thunderslut: hey, how'd you know that doesn't mean i've been with 4 guys and 3 say i'm the best.... although it doesn't
WANKERJ: im kidding......i dont judge on numbers
Thunderslut: fine by me
WANKERJ: anyway..... i need an experienced girl
WANKERJ: ;-)
Thunderslut: and why's that? need someone to keep up with you?
WANKERJ: im tryin to date right now....and all the girls that hit on me are either underage or nearly virgins...or really conservative........or all 3
WANKERJ: yeah....my last gf said she hopes i find someone who loves sex as much as me
WANKERJ: then i tried to dry hump her leg
WANKERJ: :-D
Thunderslut: hehe...you're funny
Thunderslut: and a little twisted
Thunderslut: i like that
WANKERJ: why thank you
WANKERJ: oh really?
WANKERJ: yeah.....i hate making jokes that go over girls heads.....
WANKERJ: but im not going to pander to them
WANKERJ: oh well
Thunderslut: never dumb down... there are plenty of stupid people in the world...we don't need more
WANKERJ: guess ill just have to wait for a sexy and smart girl who doesnt mind handcuffs and enjoys orgiastic situations
WANKERJ: but where will i find one?
Thunderslut: well... my mama said never to give my address to strangers
Thunderslut: but you're not strange...lol maybe a little
WANKERJ: i could follow that up with ssooooooooo much
WANKERJ: oh.......yes i have a good serving of freak in me
WANKERJ: but im as gentle as a mouse
Thunderslut: me too... i only bite on request
WANKERJ: mmmmmmmmm
WANKERJ: im really hoping you arent a fat guy
Thunderslut: i'm really not.... you're not a big toothless woman named susie-may are you?
WANKERJ: actually, i spell it susie-mae
WANKERJ: seriously though
WANKERJ: thats really me, if you can believe it....
WANKERJ: i know i know
WANKERJ: so gorgeous
WANKERJ: yet so intelligent
WANKERJ: and modest
Thunderslut: exactly what i was thinking
WANKERJ: so are you dating right now?
WANKERJ: married and lonely?
WANKERJ: recently divorced?
WANKERJ: looking for sex slave?
Thunderslut: i'm not dating anyone, i've never been married, and i'm always in the market for a sex slave
WANKERJ: damn.....im your man
WANKERJ: your place or mine?
WANKERJ: ;-)
WANKERJ: its hard being this smooth
WANKERJ: but i pull it off admirably
Thunderslut: how do you deal with the pressure?
WANKERJ: we should go on a harmless date though...
WANKERJ: lots of masturbation
WANKERJ: and booze
WANKERJ: kills the pain
WANKERJ: anyway about that date i was mentioning LOL
Thunderslut: as long as there's only the good kind of pain
Thunderslut: the kind that comes with a safety word
WANKERJ: hmmmmm.....im seriously worried now.....youre too good to be true
WANKERJ: and that pic is starting to look sketchy to me
Thunderslut: sketchy? i'm not sketchy
WANKERJ: beautiful but sketchy
Thunderslut: how am i sketchy?
WANKERJ: actually...incredibly beautiful
WANKERJ: im being neurotic
WANKERJ: not sketchy.....i just dont want to be played with
WANKERJ: well...um...i mean......well you know what i mean
Thunderslut: good... i'm not into games... not the emotional kind anyway
WANKERJ: yeah.......ive been in 2 loooooooooong term relationships.....and ive never been single until now
WANKERJ: so im looking for a light, honest, relationship based on good conversation and ridiculous sex
WANKERJ: and good food
WANKERJ: i know thats alot to ask
Thunderslut: a man after my own heart
WANKERJ: hmmmmm....what are you looking for?
WANKERJ: honestly
Thunderslut: some fun...nothing too serious and whatever happens, happens
WANKERJ: of course
WANKERJ: well, i can be alot of fun!
WANKERJ: i dont wanna rush things
WANKERJ: but the bombs could start droppin any minute!
Thunderslut: well you do seem like a lot of fun
WANKERJ: so much fun.....unbelievable carnivalesque fun
Thunderslut: well then what do you want to do?
WANKERJ: well......hmm....meeting in some neutral public place works
WANKERJ: a restaurant
WANKERJ: if you realize im an ugly fool.....you can just run away
WANKERJ: if we hit it off..........we could always retire to the women's room
WANKERJ: whatever happens........happens
Thunderslut: well part of the problem is that i only have a car for one more night while i'm still home and i have plans for tomorrow
Thunderslut: on sunday i'm back up at school
WANKERJ: oh....no rush
Thunderslut: but no car
WANKERJ: your on Uconns campus
Thunderslut: yep
WANKERJ: oh thats nothing....thats a 20 min drive for me from my apartment
WANKERJ: which i live in ..........alone and lonely;-)
WANKERJ: hehe
Thunderslut: awww... how do you cope?
WANKERJ: now im just being silly
WANKERJ: masturbation and booze....you forgot so quickly
Thunderslut: oh sorry...my mistake
WANKERJ: but whenever you have time......i would love to get together
Thunderslut: so would i
WANKERJ: so...then.....when do you have free time?
WANKERJ: Sunday night?
WANKERJ: hmmmmmmmmmmm?
Thunderslut: hey i have a week's worth of assignments i haven't done yet...lol
Thunderslut: i work most weeknights
Thunderslut: and saturdays
WANKERJ: yeah....i work weekends
WANKERJ: and weeknights
WANKERJ: youre poor too huh?
Thunderslut: yeah... side effect of going to college
WANKERJ: yeah......im payin for EVERYTHING myself
Thunderslut: ouch
WANKERJ: ouch indeed
WANKERJ: not the good kind of pain
Thunderslut: not at all... i get by with my parents goodwill, scholarships and loans
WANKERJ: anyway......enough about money.....more about you and how beautiful and sexy and unbelievably available you are
WANKERJ: i am pretty charming huh?
Thunderslut: you are incredibly charming... i'll add that to the list of accolades when i write in my diary tonight... well i'm most available on monday and friday nights... and sundays provided i'm not ignoring my classes
WANKERJ: so this upcoming sunday or monday?
Thunderslut: monday'd be good
WANKERJ: what time ?
WANKERJ: 6, 7, 8?
Thunderslut: whatever's good for you... and what shall we be doing monday night?
WANKERJ: some useless activity that will be an excuse for me to talk and flirt with you heavily
Thunderslut: sounds good to me
WANKERJ: we could ingest food
WANKERJ: is there a place across from the campus?
WANKERJ: simple little restaurant
WANKERJ: cheap.....cramped
WANKERJ: with a spacious womens room handicapped stall
WANKERJ: sorry.......that was too far.
Thunderslut: the closest restaurant to campus is friendly's and i've never been in their womens room
WANKERJ: well theres a first time for everything!
WANKERJ: friendlys would be perfect!
WANKERJ: ive heard it has a friendly atmosphere
Thunderslut: ^_^ it does indeed
WANKERJ: very cool.......um........so i this is the part where i awkwardly ask for your phone #
Thunderslut: yeah... and then i awkwardly debate about whether i shuld give yuo my dorm # or my cell
WANKERJ: and i am once again impressed by your wit
Thunderslut: thank you
WANKERJ: well, take your time....i really dont want to rush you
Thunderslut: 203-LUV-DICK cell; 860-EAT-MEUP dorm
Thunderslut: use whichever
WANKERJ: ok
WANKERJ: are your roomates cute too
WANKERJ: ;-)
WANKERJ: kidding....im not that much of a pig
Thunderslut: aww she is cute though
Thunderslut: lol but she has a bf
WANKERJ: oh well
WANKERJ: you sound like too much to handle anyway
WANKERJ: ummmmm that didnt come out right
WANKERJ: you sound like a handfull...............no that isnt good either
Thunderslut: i'll keep you on your toes
WANKERJ: ill curl yours
WANKERJ: hehe
Thunderslut: ooo... i'll hold you to that
WANKERJ: im sure you will
WANKERJ: actually.....im a virgin
Thunderslut: really? or are you just trying to see what i'll say?
WANKERJ: damn....youre good
WANKERJ: seriously girl.......how could someone who looks like ME be a virgin
WANKERJ: man.....i sound so cocky tonight
Thunderslut: it's hot though
WANKERJ: oh yeah?
Thunderslut: yeah
WANKERJ: good.....
WANKERJ: well, im sure youre tired.....and i dont want to keep you up....he he he
Thunderslut: yeah... you should be resting up for monday night
WANKERJ: jesus.... im glad i clicked yes
Thunderslut: so am i
WANKERJ: ok beautiful ... ill call you monday after 5pm
Thunderslut: sounds like an excellent idea
WANKERJ: yes
WANKERJ: have a great night Liz
Thunderslut: goodnight jeremy
WANKERJ: sweet dreams
Thunderslut: kinky dreams ;-)
WANKERJ: thanks to you
Thunderslut: hehe... night night
WANKERJ: night night
And that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday, March 26, 2003
He offered love, and she, with the easy heartlessness of one who is so well accustomed to this sort of thing, offered him sugar
Today I made a business deal. In exchange for a pair of very hip and very used 100 dollar diesel jeans, I bought Porter a sandwich, fries and a drink at Blondies for a total of eight dollars. These jeans somehow make me look "cool" if that's possible for Emily. I really enjoy them though, because I never would in my right mind, pay 100 bucks for a pair of jeans. And now, for a sandwich, I now own my own pair of the coolest jeans that ever lived.
Moderation is going pretty sucky. I moderate April 23rd at 930 AM. My moderation papers are bullshit about how I am a good student and how much I love Bard. I sound like a suck up, but who doesn't when they're actually trying to suck up?
Today it was rainy and while I watched to playwriting, I used my froggy umbrella (the umbrella that has eyes and a face)...and everyone kept looking at me, smiling and what not. B and G men stopped to say they liked my umbrella. The ladies in Down the Road thought it was adorable. My umbrella is now a star. But what about me? I'm trying to tackle my stardom in my play. Scene 2 in playwriting today...the peanut gallery was confused about it. They say Braden sounds too unreal (that made me laugh outloud) but the relationship between Johnny and Alex is great. The group agrees, they kept asking who was real? Was Braden real? Yes, I replied...oh I know, he's real. It looks like I have to establish rules for my play, I have to understand what's going on...because I know what's going on, but does everyone else? My playwriting teacher also noted that pedophiles don't deserve awards and recognition. Woody Allen, Roman Polanski...they don't deserve to be artists. Technically, I am a pedophile...so what does that mean? He liked my play though...so does that mean Dominic Taylor is a hypocrite?
Interesting weekend coming up. On Friday night I get to see Peter, and yes the last few times I've spoken to him he's been high and drunk (it looks like he's going downhill) but he claims he's still in love with me. Is he in love with me or is the alcohol in love with me?
Saturday at 1300 I am having lunch with Alex. He's been hinting at that maybe we should hook up again...though I don't think it's a good idea. I have thought of Alex as strictly a friend, nothing more...and I think I'm going to stay away from hooking up with those pro-war types...sex with America, it's not my thing.
Friday, spring break...thank God!
Today I made a business deal. In exchange for a pair of very hip and very used 100 dollar diesel jeans, I bought Porter a sandwich, fries and a drink at Blondies for a total of eight dollars. These jeans somehow make me look "cool" if that's possible for Emily. I really enjoy them though, because I never would in my right mind, pay 100 bucks for a pair of jeans. And now, for a sandwich, I now own my own pair of the coolest jeans that ever lived.
Moderation is going pretty sucky. I moderate April 23rd at 930 AM. My moderation papers are bullshit about how I am a good student and how much I love Bard. I sound like a suck up, but who doesn't when they're actually trying to suck up?
Today it was rainy and while I watched to playwriting, I used my froggy umbrella (the umbrella that has eyes and a face)...and everyone kept looking at me, smiling and what not. B and G men stopped to say they liked my umbrella. The ladies in Down the Road thought it was adorable. My umbrella is now a star. But what about me? I'm trying to tackle my stardom in my play. Scene 2 in playwriting today...the peanut gallery was confused about it. They say Braden sounds too unreal (that made me laugh outloud) but the relationship between Johnny and Alex is great. The group agrees, they kept asking who was real? Was Braden real? Yes, I replied...oh I know, he's real. It looks like I have to establish rules for my play, I have to understand what's going on...because I know what's going on, but does everyone else? My playwriting teacher also noted that pedophiles don't deserve awards and recognition. Woody Allen, Roman Polanski...they don't deserve to be artists. Technically, I am a pedophile...so what does that mean? He liked my play though...so does that mean Dominic Taylor is a hypocrite?
Interesting weekend coming up. On Friday night I get to see Peter, and yes the last few times I've spoken to him he's been high and drunk (it looks like he's going downhill) but he claims he's still in love with me. Is he in love with me or is the alcohol in love with me?
Saturday at 1300 I am having lunch with Alex. He's been hinting at that maybe we should hook up again...though I don't think it's a good idea. I have thought of Alex as strictly a friend, nothing more...and I think I'm going to stay away from hooking up with those pro-war types...sex with America, it's not my thing.
Friday, spring break...thank God!
Monday, March 24, 2003
Getaway
What to say? My Boston trip was grand (except for the forty dollar parking ticket I received this morning...thanks city of Boston!) and I had a lovely time with Catherine. We made tacos mmm...and saw Alan, Diana and Alan's gf Kelly. It was just a really nice time to get away from Bard, moderation...(ugg, I need someone to hold my hand through this)...and other such bard stupidity. On our trip to Boston, we drove through Red Hook and there was a pro war demostration going on...kids with flags cheering, flags everywhere...I didn't know what to think. Dave and I played my anti war mix, what was playing I don't remember...and drove through trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Just like Michael Moore stood up and defied America tonight...I feel like I should be like him, he knows what's going on, he's trying to change something. What am I doing? I'm sitting here in this room wasting away. And I'll contine to waste away until it's too late and I remain a pile of crud on the ground that some Republican will sweep under the rug.
I will not turn into crud!
What to say? My Boston trip was grand (except for the forty dollar parking ticket I received this morning...thanks city of Boston!) and I had a lovely time with Catherine. We made tacos mmm...and saw Alan, Diana and Alan's gf Kelly. It was just a really nice time to get away from Bard, moderation...(ugg, I need someone to hold my hand through this)...and other such bard stupidity. On our trip to Boston, we drove through Red Hook and there was a pro war demostration going on...kids with flags cheering, flags everywhere...I didn't know what to think. Dave and I played my anti war mix, what was playing I don't remember...and drove through trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Just like Michael Moore stood up and defied America tonight...I feel like I should be like him, he knows what's going on, he's trying to change something. What am I doing? I'm sitting here in this room wasting away. And I'll contine to waste away until it's too late and I remain a pile of crud on the ground that some Republican will sweep under the rug.
I will not turn into crud!
Friday, March 21, 2003
Sometimes you Forget...
Day three of "Operation Iraqi Freedom." I watched a little green lights on black sky action in the campus center today on my walk. It just looks like the Atari my father had when I was little...except a lot more severe. If what the TV is saying is true (and I doubt it), we're kicking some Iraqi ass. What do you say to that? Yay, we're killing innocent people? Yay, we're winning a stupid and illegal war? There really isn't anything to be excited about.
Since I've been here at Bard, everyone's pretty much anti-war...except for that random straggler, pro-war people are like the jocks at bard, they just don't belong.
I was looking through people's away messages a few days ago and some peoples were "May God bless our president as he takes us into the right decision..." I mean, I dont remember what they said, but they were PRO WAR, that's what they are. I began to get sick to my stomach. People, actually...think war is a good idea? According to a stupid poll 65% think it's a good idea. Sometimes you forget that outside Bard, people are cheering this war. At the diner last night, our waitress had a "USA" pin on. It frightens me how people can be so into this war thing. It just makes me sick.
I could rant my war beliefs, but why? I don't really want to. You've heard it all before.
Anyway, going to Boston this weekend and all...that should be a good time. It's just been such a long week. I gotta nap or something before I freak out.
Day three of "Operation Iraqi Freedom." I watched a little green lights on black sky action in the campus center today on my walk. It just looks like the Atari my father had when I was little...except a lot more severe. If what the TV is saying is true (and I doubt it), we're kicking some Iraqi ass. What do you say to that? Yay, we're killing innocent people? Yay, we're winning a stupid and illegal war? There really isn't anything to be excited about.
Since I've been here at Bard, everyone's pretty much anti-war...except for that random straggler, pro-war people are like the jocks at bard, they just don't belong.
I was looking through people's away messages a few days ago and some peoples were "May God bless our president as he takes us into the right decision..." I mean, I dont remember what they said, but they were PRO WAR, that's what they are. I began to get sick to my stomach. People, actually...think war is a good idea? According to a stupid poll 65% think it's a good idea. Sometimes you forget that outside Bard, people are cheering this war. At the diner last night, our waitress had a "USA" pin on. It frightens me how people can be so into this war thing. It just makes me sick.
I could rant my war beliefs, but why? I don't really want to. You've heard it all before.
Anyway, going to Boston this weekend and all...that should be a good time. It's just been such a long week. I gotta nap or something before I freak out.
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
Twenty-Four Hours till My Country Turns into a pile of Shit
It's war time here in America, and what can I say but I am frightened. This weekend has been full of ups and downs. The weather has been beautiful but I have a paper due Friday. I'm going to see Catherine in Boston on Saturday but gas prices are fucking rediculous. Prof. Sanborn is going to be on my moderation board but my headphones broke. And we're going to war. So I would have to say that this week is going to be worse before it gets better.
I have also realized that I am riding on a time machine back to the days of yore, where I was quite a little make out slut. The men of my past are waiting in line and the reason can be only for one thing. Why is this happening? Men of my past, why are you asking for sex? Do you think I'm easy? Do you think that I am willing, lonely and frightened by the chance of (gasp) a new man? This is the question I can't answer. As for right now, I am happy concentrating on moderating before pleasure. If I don't moderate, I dont get to think about my future and if I don't think about my future, I'll end up...oh who knows where I'll end up.
Anyway, 24 hours till my country turns its back on the world. How do I feel to be America right now? Not that good...but I just pray it ends soon. Prayer...wow...haven't thought about God for a while. But as long as Bush believes God's on HIS side...maybe I don't want to believe anymore.
It's war time here in America, and what can I say but I am frightened. This weekend has been full of ups and downs. The weather has been beautiful but I have a paper due Friday. I'm going to see Catherine in Boston on Saturday but gas prices are fucking rediculous. Prof. Sanborn is going to be on my moderation board but my headphones broke. And we're going to war. So I would have to say that this week is going to be worse before it gets better.
I have also realized that I am riding on a time machine back to the days of yore, where I was quite a little make out slut. The men of my past are waiting in line and the reason can be only for one thing. Why is this happening? Men of my past, why are you asking for sex? Do you think I'm easy? Do you think that I am willing, lonely and frightened by the chance of (gasp) a new man? This is the question I can't answer. As for right now, I am happy concentrating on moderating before pleasure. If I don't moderate, I dont get to think about my future and if I don't think about my future, I'll end up...oh who knows where I'll end up.
Anyway, 24 hours till my country turns its back on the world. How do I feel to be America right now? Not that good...but I just pray it ends soon. Prayer...wow...haven't thought about God for a while. But as long as Bush believes God's on HIS side...maybe I don't want to believe anymore.
Saturday, March 15, 2003
My Big Fat Greek...
Watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding makes me realize that I can find someone too. I realized that although last weekend was fun...I really need to concentrate on finding a permanent fixture and not just relying on the past to deal me up some favors. Although the past has been coming alive the past few days.
Enter Peter Sainz...the seventeen year old stealer of my youth. I have always loved Peter, though not the most intelligent person...(he spelled warrant "w-a-r-e-n-t"...) there was always something about him that seemed to fit. Indeed, he drinks far too much and smokes too much for a seventeen year old...but his Darien charms were somehow always to be trusted. I believe he's the only guy to have truly loved me. He told me to call him over spring break...and I most likely will. If I'm going to self-analyze myself, I might as well say it's because I want to be loved and to be with someone who I know loves me. Blake, yes was a treat...but he has no feelings towards me...he's still in love with that other girl...so why waste my time looking for love when there's a boy at home who already loves me and has for two years?
I don't know what I'm getting at...I should always be looking...because it's important. I just think it would fit into my grand life scheme, the new Emily...the more mature nerdish girl.
I drank a whole two liter bottle of Diet Coke with Lemon and I feel, awful...my stomach just feels sour. Though I'm sure having that birthday cake (even though it was no one's birthday) and three glasses of whole milk were just great for it.
Tomorrow will be my day to write my paper and finish my play. My ending, is the shit. The more I think about it, the more I get giddy.
"He's dead, isn't he?"
"How did you?"
"Answer my question, he's dead...isn't he?"
"....yes, he's dead."
Watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding makes me realize that I can find someone too. I realized that although last weekend was fun...I really need to concentrate on finding a permanent fixture and not just relying on the past to deal me up some favors. Although the past has been coming alive the past few days.
Enter Peter Sainz...the seventeen year old stealer of my youth. I have always loved Peter, though not the most intelligent person...(he spelled warrant "w-a-r-e-n-t"...) there was always something about him that seemed to fit. Indeed, he drinks far too much and smokes too much for a seventeen year old...but his Darien charms were somehow always to be trusted. I believe he's the only guy to have truly loved me. He told me to call him over spring break...and I most likely will. If I'm going to self-analyze myself, I might as well say it's because I want to be loved and to be with someone who I know loves me. Blake, yes was a treat...but he has no feelings towards me...he's still in love with that other girl...so why waste my time looking for love when there's a boy at home who already loves me and has for two years?
I don't know what I'm getting at...I should always be looking...because it's important. I just think it would fit into my grand life scheme, the new Emily...the more mature nerdish girl.
I drank a whole two liter bottle of Diet Coke with Lemon and I feel, awful...my stomach just feels sour. Though I'm sure having that birthday cake (even though it was no one's birthday) and three glasses of whole milk were just great for it.
Tomorrow will be my day to write my paper and finish my play. My ending, is the shit. The more I think about it, the more I get giddy.
"He's dead, isn't he?"
"How did you?"
"Answer my question, he's dead...isn't he?"
"....yes, he's dead."
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
Freedom Fries, Philosopher Kings, and Nerdom
It's been a few days since I have written in my blog, but alas nothing writable has happened in my life. My happiness has faded though, and my sleep cycle is back to regular thank God. I am back to the Emily you saw and know pre night of passion. The only thing good that has happened to me these past few days has been Sean visiting (we had a good time...doubling the beef and what not) and figuring out the end of my play! Note: Alex goes crazy...but that's all I'm going to tell you for now.
As for the other things, some things have been bothering me.
I realized that I must accept my nerdom. I read all the Akira books (mmm Akira)...and then while at the diner, I saw the 'teen girl squad' from homestarrunner.com walk by...Cheerleader, so and so, what's her face, the ugly one! Everyone at the table laughed so loud. So I accept my nerdom...I like mst3k...I loved all of Akira (though 15 year old boys should NOT be getting their school nurses pregnant or hitting on 20 something revolutionaries) and with my nerd glasses, me and my fellow nerds will rise up and rule the world...maybe
I was reading the "New Yorker" during my break in playwriting today and I game across a blurb for Leon's American Symphony Orchestra gala at Lincoln Center. "Leon Botstein, the director of the ACO and PHILOSOPHER KING" I almost dropped my magazine and let out a shreek causing the class to look at me in a strange way. Leon is NOT a philosopher king! Who in the New Yorker would write that awful remark??? Leon, as all of you know, hates me...and having a philosopher king hate me is just...weird. Plato is rolling over in his grave, tomb, ditch whatever right now!
Since we're on the idea of "shock and awe"...The capital lunchroom in DC has now changed its menu to include instead of french toast and french fries, "Freedom toast and Freedom fries." What the hell? This is just like during WW1 when we renamed everything German into "liberty"...do you think the French even fuckin care that we renamed French toast "freedom toast?" We're not even at war with them. An article in MSN's "Slate" says this:
"If chauvinistic warmongers want to start renaming stuff, it should be Iraqi stuff. There’s probably not much point in going after Iraqi food such as masgoof (barbecued fish) and pacha (sort of an Iraqi haggis) because Americans don’t eat them. A better idea would be to tear out every page in the Bible that features an Iraqi place name, such as Babylon, Babel, the Garden of Eden, Nineveh, and Ur. The Christian right will object, but we all have to make sacrifices during wartime."
We're going to war people...and in five days too. How do I feel about it? Ehhh...I am pissed but nothing can be done now.
What does the weekend hold for Emily? Oh yeah, sitting in the library reading "Classical Quarterlys" from 1971 thinking about how last weekend was so much better than this weekend.
It's been a few days since I have written in my blog, but alas nothing writable has happened in my life. My happiness has faded though, and my sleep cycle is back to regular thank God. I am back to the Emily you saw and know pre night of passion. The only thing good that has happened to me these past few days has been Sean visiting (we had a good time...doubling the beef and what not) and figuring out the end of my play! Note: Alex goes crazy...but that's all I'm going to tell you for now.
As for the other things, some things have been bothering me.
I realized that I must accept my nerdom. I read all the Akira books (mmm Akira)...and then while at the diner, I saw the 'teen girl squad' from homestarrunner.com walk by...Cheerleader, so and so, what's her face, the ugly one! Everyone at the table laughed so loud. So I accept my nerdom...I like mst3k...I loved all of Akira (though 15 year old boys should NOT be getting their school nurses pregnant or hitting on 20 something revolutionaries) and with my nerd glasses, me and my fellow nerds will rise up and rule the world...maybe
I was reading the "New Yorker" during my break in playwriting today and I game across a blurb for Leon's American Symphony Orchestra gala at Lincoln Center. "Leon Botstein, the director of the ACO and PHILOSOPHER KING" I almost dropped my magazine and let out a shreek causing the class to look at me in a strange way. Leon is NOT a philosopher king! Who in the New Yorker would write that awful remark??? Leon, as all of you know, hates me...and having a philosopher king hate me is just...weird. Plato is rolling over in his grave, tomb, ditch whatever right now!
Since we're on the idea of "shock and awe"...The capital lunchroom in DC has now changed its menu to include instead of french toast and french fries, "Freedom toast and Freedom fries." What the hell? This is just like during WW1 when we renamed everything German into "liberty"...do you think the French even fuckin care that we renamed French toast "freedom toast?" We're not even at war with them. An article in MSN's "Slate" says this:
"If chauvinistic warmongers want to start renaming stuff, it should be Iraqi stuff. There’s probably not much point in going after Iraqi food such as masgoof (barbecued fish) and pacha (sort of an Iraqi haggis) because Americans don’t eat them. A better idea would be to tear out every page in the Bible that features an Iraqi place name, such as Babylon, Babel, the Garden of Eden, Nineveh, and Ur. The Christian right will object, but we all have to make sacrifices during wartime."
We're going to war people...and in five days too. How do I feel about it? Ehhh...I am pissed but nothing can be done now.
What does the weekend hold for Emily? Oh yeah, sitting in the library reading "Classical Quarterlys" from 1971 thinking about how last weekend was so much better than this weekend.
Sunday, March 09, 2003
The Happiest Girl in New York
I am running on two hours of sleep but yet, I am utterly and rediculously awake. I even walked to my fencing meet, dancing. Why, might you ask...why would I be, (gasp) giddy? It's been so long since I couldn't stop smiling or the last time I spent the whole night in bed with someone. I must admit, I have to be the happiest girl in New York.
It was a question Blake asked me at 6AM, when the sun was just starting to peak through the shades. "Are you happy?" Happy...I haven't been happy in a long time. But yet, somehow this made everything disappear. So what if Braden had Abby! So what if Jesse ruined our plans for spring break! So what if Vic the Prick hooked up with Porter! I was happy. Months of sexual tension, months of loneliness...all slipped by in a matter of seconds. It was back to myself, back to the non bitter and happy go luck Emily Sauter.
I am the happiest girl at Bard, happiest girl in Upstate New York, happiest girl in New York. And I have one guy to thank for all of this.
I'll spare the details of my night of passion...because I want to be tasteful (though I will say this, it was...incredible). And yes, I realize that Blake went back to Boston...which makes me a tad sad, but I can't make him stay at Bard (though i wish i could)...but I accept it. That's life, right? But I am happy...nothing could destroy my good mood. So what if I'm not with Blake...I do care about him very much so, but he's in Boston...and Boston and Bard are not as close as you could think. That's life...
Anyway, I also won two out of the three bouts for the Marist/Bard meet.
Man, why can't everyday be as stimulating and wonderful as today!
I am running on two hours of sleep but yet, I am utterly and rediculously awake. I even walked to my fencing meet, dancing. Why, might you ask...why would I be, (gasp) giddy? It's been so long since I couldn't stop smiling or the last time I spent the whole night in bed with someone. I must admit, I have to be the happiest girl in New York.
It was a question Blake asked me at 6AM, when the sun was just starting to peak through the shades. "Are you happy?" Happy...I haven't been happy in a long time. But yet, somehow this made everything disappear. So what if Braden had Abby! So what if Jesse ruined our plans for spring break! So what if Vic the Prick hooked up with Porter! I was happy. Months of sexual tension, months of loneliness...all slipped by in a matter of seconds. It was back to myself, back to the non bitter and happy go luck Emily Sauter.
I am the happiest girl at Bard, happiest girl in Upstate New York, happiest girl in New York. And I have one guy to thank for all of this.
I'll spare the details of my night of passion...because I want to be tasteful (though I will say this, it was...incredible). And yes, I realize that Blake went back to Boston...which makes me a tad sad, but I can't make him stay at Bard (though i wish i could)...but I accept it. That's life, right? But I am happy...nothing could destroy my good mood. So what if I'm not with Blake...I do care about him very much so, but he's in Boston...and Boston and Bard are not as close as you could think. That's life...
Anyway, I also won two out of the three bouts for the Marist/Bard meet.
Man, why can't everyday be as stimulating and wonderful as today!
Friday, March 07, 2003
Rerun: An Emily Clip Show
I thought that in honor of something, I would give you guys a clip show of my favorite and not so favorite memories of last year. I got the idea after I had a dream about Braden. Just waking up after that dream made me remember "two nerds in love"...I thought I had gotten over Braden but when you have sex with someone in a church pew...maybe you really aren't. Anyway, enjoy the clip show.
4/10/02
well today, thanks to Dave 3 (he's the best), i am now sharing my thoughts with the world. How scary is that? I don't think anyone wants to get inside my head (including me) because it's just too scary in there i tell you what. The only thing i am going to say is that my grammar and spelling are at a 5th grade level so, don't yell at me when a stupid comma is out of place or I misspell words like "Sain" okay?
4/18/02
It can only be described in one phrase, "Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets..."
So Ross' sister and friend, Blake, come to visit for a day or two. And hey, Blake is kind of attractive...
In the words i speak of when i speak of Johnny Garrison: "things happen."
Things happen under trees in the middle of a field in the middle of a thunderstorm with lightning and thunder and a blood red moon. Things happens...
4/24/02
So tonight was...awesome! All my friends and I gathered in the dormroom and took pictures...scary pictures, of us. If you go to my profile and go to my photo album, you can see them. They are nuts! There are a lot of me lookin' my hottest.
4/28/02
Todd had sex three times this morning...
5/5/02
I got into a car crash and, since i wasn't wearing a seat belt...i was bounced around like a Mexican Jumping Bean and landed on the floor of my friend's van with a concussion and a nose full of blood. I got to ride in an ambulance to the hospital (where the EMT did NOT hit on me) and they just pumped me full of painkillers and sent me on the merry way. The "Colonel..." (that's Ross' car) well...she's wounded seriously and might "be sent out to sea soon" says Ross...which is sad, because she was trooper and she saved my life.
5/16/02
Emily Wars! Episode 1: Attack of the West Point Cadets!
6/6/03
A bunch of kids in Cooper City, Florida think that I am their friend Chris and IM me all the time...I don't respond...i mean, i could...get into their little world and screw around with their lives, but I've got morals...so I just dont say anything, let them IM me over and over...and laugh everytime i get one...maybe one day I'll say something to throw them off but for now...I stay silent. Ha! I just got another one...
8/24/02
I'd just like to thank Kevin and Doreen O'Leary...for having such a nice big comfy bed, with lots of pillows...
I was a big fan...
THANKS AGAIN!
love,
Emily S. Sauter
8/29/02
Emily,
We arrived here this afternoon. Topsy-turvy weather. Everything is fine so far. Hope everything is OK with you. We have plenty of hikes to do over the week. You might like the wildernees, it sure is different than Harvard Love, Pete
10/03/02
"You've achieved infamy as a sophomore" were the words that were uttered from Dave Shein's mouth, the dean of students...
10/15/02
So Alex Raggio...in my rage I say that I will NEVER talk to you again, because you dont deserve it...and I feel that now my revenge on Johnny stems to you too...oh, you can laugh at that...and tell me I'm stupid because I can live in this rose colored world, but Alex, you are the true problem to my existence...I can't stand the way you have threatened me, taken advantage of me...how cruel and low can you be? So, if you ever read this...fuck you, and I hope you live a poor and miserable life in your crappy Indiana world...
10/27/02
I forgot to mention that Dave 1's house was a nostalgia factory...Winnie the Pooh tapes, old Jetson movie glasses, Boy scout popcorn tins!
11/17/02
Then someone suggests a game of "Never have I ever"
Although I don't remember the complete night...I remember a lot more than I probably should. Like how Jesse wears Black boxer Briefs and the ages everyone started masturbating...I hardly know the people Jesse lives with and yet, I know when they started wacking off. We live in a great age
11/24/03
I drew a picture of Braden in my journal today...looking innocent as always with the caption: "This could get messy"
12/10/02
So here I am in the suite!
Ross is telling me that I need to jump Braden...
just wait until Friday...
God I hope he doesn't read this
Anyway, enough clips...you all know what happened after THAT party anyway...Hope you enjoyed the rerun. And I promise new episodes in the future.
I thought that in honor of something, I would give you guys a clip show of my favorite and not so favorite memories of last year. I got the idea after I had a dream about Braden. Just waking up after that dream made me remember "two nerds in love"...I thought I had gotten over Braden but when you have sex with someone in a church pew...maybe you really aren't. Anyway, enjoy the clip show.
4/10/02
well today, thanks to Dave 3 (he's the best), i am now sharing my thoughts with the world. How scary is that? I don't think anyone wants to get inside my head (including me) because it's just too scary in there i tell you what. The only thing i am going to say is that my grammar and spelling are at a 5th grade level so, don't yell at me when a stupid comma is out of place or I misspell words like "Sain" okay?
4/18/02
It can only be described in one phrase, "Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets..."
So Ross' sister and friend, Blake, come to visit for a day or two. And hey, Blake is kind of attractive...
In the words i speak of when i speak of Johnny Garrison: "things happen."
Things happen under trees in the middle of a field in the middle of a thunderstorm with lightning and thunder and a blood red moon. Things happens...
4/24/02
So tonight was...awesome! All my friends and I gathered in the dormroom and took pictures...scary pictures, of us. If you go to my profile and go to my photo album, you can see them. They are nuts! There are a lot of me lookin' my hottest.
4/28/02
Todd had sex three times this morning...
5/5/02
I got into a car crash and, since i wasn't wearing a seat belt...i was bounced around like a Mexican Jumping Bean and landed on the floor of my friend's van with a concussion and a nose full of blood. I got to ride in an ambulance to the hospital (where the EMT did NOT hit on me) and they just pumped me full of painkillers and sent me on the merry way. The "Colonel..." (that's Ross' car) well...she's wounded seriously and might "be sent out to sea soon" says Ross...which is sad, because she was trooper and she saved my life.
5/16/02
Emily Wars! Episode 1: Attack of the West Point Cadets!
6/6/03
A bunch of kids in Cooper City, Florida think that I am their friend Chris and IM me all the time...I don't respond...i mean, i could...get into their little world and screw around with their lives, but I've got morals...so I just dont say anything, let them IM me over and over...and laugh everytime i get one...maybe one day I'll say something to throw them off but for now...I stay silent. Ha! I just got another one...
8/24/02
I'd just like to thank Kevin and Doreen O'Leary...for having such a nice big comfy bed, with lots of pillows...
I was a big fan...
THANKS AGAIN!
love,
Emily S. Sauter
8/29/02
Emily,
We arrived here this afternoon. Topsy-turvy weather. Everything is fine so far. Hope everything is OK with you. We have plenty of hikes to do over the week. You might like the wildernees, it sure is different than Harvard Love, Pete
10/03/02
"You've achieved infamy as a sophomore" were the words that were uttered from Dave Shein's mouth, the dean of students...
10/15/02
So Alex Raggio...in my rage I say that I will NEVER talk to you again, because you dont deserve it...and I feel that now my revenge on Johnny stems to you too...oh, you can laugh at that...and tell me I'm stupid because I can live in this rose colored world, but Alex, you are the true problem to my existence...I can't stand the way you have threatened me, taken advantage of me...how cruel and low can you be? So, if you ever read this...fuck you, and I hope you live a poor and miserable life in your crappy Indiana world...
10/27/02
I forgot to mention that Dave 1's house was a nostalgia factory...Winnie the Pooh tapes, old Jetson movie glasses, Boy scout popcorn tins!
11/17/02
Then someone suggests a game of "Never have I ever"
Although I don't remember the complete night...I remember a lot more than I probably should. Like how Jesse wears Black boxer Briefs and the ages everyone started masturbating...I hardly know the people Jesse lives with and yet, I know when they started wacking off. We live in a great age
11/24/03
I drew a picture of Braden in my journal today...looking innocent as always with the caption: "This could get messy"
12/10/02
So here I am in the suite!
Ross is telling me that I need to jump Braden...
just wait until Friday...
God I hope he doesn't read this
Anyway, enough clips...you all know what happened after THAT party anyway...Hope you enjoyed the rerun. And I promise new episodes in the future.
Tuesday, March 04, 2003
They Say it's your birthday...
Happy birthday to me. I watched myself turn 20. We were learning about the burning of persepolis by a drunk Alexander the Great when 1145 AM hit. I remember when I turned 10. I was watching myself turn 10 in the Hindley Elementary lunchroom. The janitor asked me why I kept staring at the clock. I told him I was watching myself turn 10. It's strange, watching yourself turn a certain age. Now I am not a teenager. But it doesn't matter. 365 more days till 21 baby.
Last night I was an American. I showed my patriotic duty as a citizen with the only way I knew how, by voting on a reality TV show. Kevin, Catherine, and I spent my birthday celebration watching Fox's new laugh, "Married by America." I could not see any of these singles married and living in the suburbs with kids. They all owned restaurants, drank heavily, talked in cliches to impress some girl's parents. Kevin, Catherine, and I dismissed the show as pure crap though the other show we were watching "Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes" was not so quality either. Reality TV...there's something very American about it. Like Andy Warhol said, "everyone gets 15 minutes of fame." Every channel's got something. On Fox, you can embarrass yourself either as a slut on Married by America, or have Simon the wanker make fun of you. On ABC, you could get put on one of their lame dating shows that makes women fight over some loser (the first bachelor graduated from my town in 1987 and was 1st in the class...now drives a porsche with the license plate StanMBA...just to tell everyone he went to Stanford...sounds pretty Fairfield county to me) what about NBC...how about eating Horse rectum or throwing yourself off a bridge? And CBS, just for classic survivor. It's sad, we call Survivor "classic." I was addicted though, like every other American. Man, I just wanted Rich to put on some damn pants.
TV is not all bad now. Two shows I would highly recommend are on on the same time on Sunday nights. E!'s "Michael Esseny Show" is hilarious. Nothing beats giving a Middle American high school student from Indiana his own talk show. His Bill Clinton impression was pretty amazing. And he gets stars on his show too!! Like Kelly Rowland from Destiny's Child, Tom Green! And his mom is the set manager, his nerdy best friend the funny sidekick, the set is the living room. It's genius!
The other show that's hilarious is MTV's "Clone High." What a good show. The story is in the 80's the government cloned all the most famous people in the world and now they are of high school age and going through the trauma of high school. You got Abe Lincoln, his best friend Ghandi, Joan of Arc (who looooves Abe) Cleopatra, who's a major slut, JFK who is also a slut...and many many more. The show is just so funny. Ghandi being a rapper called "G-spot"...I mean, come on..that's genius!
I miss TV...there is nothing better than the tube. Damn you bard for having no tv.
Anyway, tonight's hamburger helper...cake...the usual weekly food for me and Jesse. Time to eat!!
Happy Birthday ME!
Happy birthday to me. I watched myself turn 20. We were learning about the burning of persepolis by a drunk Alexander the Great when 1145 AM hit. I remember when I turned 10. I was watching myself turn 10 in the Hindley Elementary lunchroom. The janitor asked me why I kept staring at the clock. I told him I was watching myself turn 10. It's strange, watching yourself turn a certain age. Now I am not a teenager. But it doesn't matter. 365 more days till 21 baby.
Last night I was an American. I showed my patriotic duty as a citizen with the only way I knew how, by voting on a reality TV show. Kevin, Catherine, and I spent my birthday celebration watching Fox's new laugh, "Married by America." I could not see any of these singles married and living in the suburbs with kids. They all owned restaurants, drank heavily, talked in cliches to impress some girl's parents. Kevin, Catherine, and I dismissed the show as pure crap though the other show we were watching "Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes" was not so quality either. Reality TV...there's something very American about it. Like Andy Warhol said, "everyone gets 15 minutes of fame." Every channel's got something. On Fox, you can embarrass yourself either as a slut on Married by America, or have Simon the wanker make fun of you. On ABC, you could get put on one of their lame dating shows that makes women fight over some loser (the first bachelor graduated from my town in 1987 and was 1st in the class...now drives a porsche with the license plate StanMBA...just to tell everyone he went to Stanford...sounds pretty Fairfield county to me) what about NBC...how about eating Horse rectum or throwing yourself off a bridge? And CBS, just for classic survivor. It's sad, we call Survivor "classic." I was addicted though, like every other American. Man, I just wanted Rich to put on some damn pants.
TV is not all bad now. Two shows I would highly recommend are on on the same time on Sunday nights. E!'s "Michael Esseny Show" is hilarious. Nothing beats giving a Middle American high school student from Indiana his own talk show. His Bill Clinton impression was pretty amazing. And he gets stars on his show too!! Like Kelly Rowland from Destiny's Child, Tom Green! And his mom is the set manager, his nerdy best friend the funny sidekick, the set is the living room. It's genius!
The other show that's hilarious is MTV's "Clone High." What a good show. The story is in the 80's the government cloned all the most famous people in the world and now they are of high school age and going through the trauma of high school. You got Abe Lincoln, his best friend Ghandi, Joan of Arc (who looooves Abe) Cleopatra, who's a major slut, JFK who is also a slut...and many many more. The show is just so funny. Ghandi being a rapper called "G-spot"...I mean, come on..that's genius!
I miss TV...there is nothing better than the tube. Damn you bard for having no tv.
Anyway, tonight's hamburger helper...cake...the usual weekly food for me and Jesse. Time to eat!!
Happy Birthday ME!
Sunday, March 02, 2003
Vic the Prick
What happened tonight, for the record, was not cool. Emily's life is full of trivial facts, full of bad emotions, sour details. I do not deserve what I get in life. This is a well known fact...Braden found a lady friend. I accepted it. Jesse went to Ithaca instead of going to Alabama, I accepted. But acception of these following events will be unruly to handle, and I didn't deserve this.
I met Vic on Hot or Not...he seemed nice, Alex said "harmless" and I believed him. I fucking believed him.
keep in mind that it now 3:23 AM and I am not quite sober. So I drove to poughkeepsie and picked him up. He was a West Point guy, but I thought third time's the charm right? Wrong, dead wrong.
I am depressed by my lack to find the right man. He must be out there, swimming among the millions of losers in the world, just waiting. He must be out there, climbing up to look up high, looking for me. I saw potential in the beer drinking liberal...I saw potential, I put faith in it. Faith is a word I hadn't used in a while. I had faith in me and Braden, and looked where that ended up. He has Abby now, insecure now...still unchanged, but happier I'm sure. But I had faith in Vic too...I had faith in something that could be good at least. Until he hooked up with Porter, my roommate.
I don't blame Porter. The blame rests on him and only on him. You don't come to visit someone and end up hooking up with their roommate who is also their close friend. What kind of sick fuck do you have to be to be such an asshole?
Where's faith in my life now? It's floating down the Hudson River, past West Point and out to the ocean...never to be seen again.
I'm sorry to be so flowery but I can't help it. It's my birthday you know...this was my party...and I guess I can cry if I want to. And I have. I wept and Porter wept too on the phone while she told me she loved me and I said I loved her too. I'm not letting my roommate and I fight because of some loser West Point cadet who's an asshole and a prick. Vic the Prick. Porter would chime it out because it sounded good. And I said he wasn't. But he was.
Life couldn't get any worse for me right now. It's been so long since a guy hasn't lied to me, has cared about me. And who am I to believe now?
If you're reading this Vic...I'm sorry I wasted so much time on you, you pathetic west point bastard, just like the rest of them.
Miss Emily's gone...
What happened tonight, for the record, was not cool. Emily's life is full of trivial facts, full of bad emotions, sour details. I do not deserve what I get in life. This is a well known fact...Braden found a lady friend. I accepted it. Jesse went to Ithaca instead of going to Alabama, I accepted. But acception of these following events will be unruly to handle, and I didn't deserve this.
I met Vic on Hot or Not...he seemed nice, Alex said "harmless" and I believed him. I fucking believed him.
keep in mind that it now 3:23 AM and I am not quite sober. So I drove to poughkeepsie and picked him up. He was a West Point guy, but I thought third time's the charm right? Wrong, dead wrong.
I am depressed by my lack to find the right man. He must be out there, swimming among the millions of losers in the world, just waiting. He must be out there, climbing up to look up high, looking for me. I saw potential in the beer drinking liberal...I saw potential, I put faith in it. Faith is a word I hadn't used in a while. I had faith in me and Braden, and looked where that ended up. He has Abby now, insecure now...still unchanged, but happier I'm sure. But I had faith in Vic too...I had faith in something that could be good at least. Until he hooked up with Porter, my roommate.
I don't blame Porter. The blame rests on him and only on him. You don't come to visit someone and end up hooking up with their roommate who is also their close friend. What kind of sick fuck do you have to be to be such an asshole?
Where's faith in my life now? It's floating down the Hudson River, past West Point and out to the ocean...never to be seen again.
I'm sorry to be so flowery but I can't help it. It's my birthday you know...this was my party...and I guess I can cry if I want to. And I have. I wept and Porter wept too on the phone while she told me she loved me and I said I loved her too. I'm not letting my roommate and I fight because of some loser West Point cadet who's an asshole and a prick. Vic the Prick. Porter would chime it out because it sounded good. And I said he wasn't. But he was.
Life couldn't get any worse for me right now. It's been so long since a guy hasn't lied to me, has cared about me. And who am I to believe now?
If you're reading this Vic...I'm sorry I wasted so much time on you, you pathetic west point bastard, just like the rest of them.
Miss Emily's gone...
Thursday, February 27, 2003
All or Nothing
Yesterday afternoon, I was feeling sorry for myself. With the coming of my birthday party, it would seem that I would be completely alone. It's been so long since I have ever felt like someone cared for me. But all of that changed with the prospect of Hot or Not.
The internet...truly is a new sexual revolutioin. Ever since I've joined hot or not, I've met many respectable suitors to be the new thing in Emily's pathetic life. Let's take a same look into the men of my life (not like you guys don't know how they are anyway)
Blake- I am truly in awe of how wonderful Blake is. And with a scheme, I will be seeing him in two weeks hopefully. There is no one I trust more and care about more than Blake. No one has treated with me with such respect and care. Why any girl wouldn't want to be with him, is beyond me.
Mr. Hennessey- a Hot or Not guy, strange in some respects, but with those cold brown Irish eyes, he is a fine boy. What will become of it...I don't know.
Colin Donegan- A staple in Emily's life for about, five years now...his slutty girlfriend is about to break up with him and he wants to be with me. Colin looks like Mr. Hennessey in some respects. There are many cons to dating Colin, He dated Jen for a year...he goes to college in Ohio, and all throughout senior year of high school, his favorite afternoon game (besides football) was "let's take advantage of Emily." Did he mean all the things he said to me? Who knows...
West Point III (aka Vic)- I know what you're thinking...not another one. But Vic's not like the other West Point guys that have slid in and out of my life. For one thing, he's a liberal, hates guns, and lives in the great first state of Delaware. I know he's from West Point...and I said I was done with that grey death trap, but maybe this could be the start of something good.
All this in a week...and who will win Emily's heart? If Blake lived closer, I would be with him...but sadly, too many miles to Topsfield.
On an unrelated note, I heard two people having sex for the first time in my life. Colin and Ali were having sex around seven last night and Porter and I stood in the hall and listened to the howling and grunting. It sounded like they were mourning the loss of a loved one in an ancient ceremony. When I start having sex again (yeah people, coming up on two years...) I hope I don't sound like that.
Well, my birthday party is coming up and I've invited everyone from Porter to Nick. I don't think I have enough cake for everyone though. But the party is going to be the shit. I can't wait...
Lots of beer, cake...surprises??
Yesterday afternoon, I was feeling sorry for myself. With the coming of my birthday party, it would seem that I would be completely alone. It's been so long since I have ever felt like someone cared for me. But all of that changed with the prospect of Hot or Not.
The internet...truly is a new sexual revolutioin. Ever since I've joined hot or not, I've met many respectable suitors to be the new thing in Emily's pathetic life. Let's take a same look into the men of my life (not like you guys don't know how they are anyway)
Blake- I am truly in awe of how wonderful Blake is. And with a scheme, I will be seeing him in two weeks hopefully. There is no one I trust more and care about more than Blake. No one has treated with me with such respect and care. Why any girl wouldn't want to be with him, is beyond me.
Mr. Hennessey- a Hot or Not guy, strange in some respects, but with those cold brown Irish eyes, he is a fine boy. What will become of it...I don't know.
Colin Donegan- A staple in Emily's life for about, five years now...his slutty girlfriend is about to break up with him and he wants to be with me. Colin looks like Mr. Hennessey in some respects. There are many cons to dating Colin, He dated Jen for a year...he goes to college in Ohio, and all throughout senior year of high school, his favorite afternoon game (besides football) was "let's take advantage of Emily." Did he mean all the things he said to me? Who knows...
West Point III (aka Vic)- I know what you're thinking...not another one. But Vic's not like the other West Point guys that have slid in and out of my life. For one thing, he's a liberal, hates guns, and lives in the great first state of Delaware. I know he's from West Point...and I said I was done with that grey death trap, but maybe this could be the start of something good.
All this in a week...and who will win Emily's heart? If Blake lived closer, I would be with him...but sadly, too many miles to Topsfield.
On an unrelated note, I heard two people having sex for the first time in my life. Colin and Ali were having sex around seven last night and Porter and I stood in the hall and listened to the howling and grunting. It sounded like they were mourning the loss of a loved one in an ancient ceremony. When I start having sex again (yeah people, coming up on two years...) I hope I don't sound like that.
Well, my birthday party is coming up and I've invited everyone from Porter to Nick. I don't think I have enough cake for everyone though. But the party is going to be the shit. I can't wait...
Lots of beer, cake...surprises??
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
Anxiety
"The unpleasant emotional state consisting of psychophysiological responses to anticipation of unreal or imagined danger, ostensibly resulting from unrecognised intrapsychic conflict. Physiological concomitants include increased heart rate, altered respiration rate, sweating, trembling, weakness and fatigue, psychological concomitants include feelings of impending danger, powerlessness, apprehension and tension."
This is me. My psychologist says that I suffer from an anxiety problem that makes me scared to do the simplest things. Picking up the phone, going down hallways, everything. It's nice to know what's wrong with me and all...but still...as I read the psychological definition above, I start to worry if I'm even sane. "unreal or imagined" danger...oh dear. But I'm going to work on it. Soon, I'll be normal, I promise.
On other news, Jesse has decided that instead of going to Alabama, he's going to Ithaca to "see the boy." Yes, Jesse...our famous Jesse, is going to leave his two best friends to have a frolic in the garden of sexual delight. At first I was mad...all our plans were ruined. But you know, after accepting Braden's new ladyfriend, accepting this won't be so bad either. I've gotten used to disappointment. I just hope that maybe this weekend, something good will come of my party and I'll wake up the following morning to be happy for once. Happiness, wow. That's a pretty great concept.
Nothing more to say...
"The unpleasant emotional state consisting of psychophysiological responses to anticipation of unreal or imagined danger, ostensibly resulting from unrecognised intrapsychic conflict. Physiological concomitants include increased heart rate, altered respiration rate, sweating, trembling, weakness and fatigue, psychological concomitants include feelings of impending danger, powerlessness, apprehension and tension."
This is me. My psychologist says that I suffer from an anxiety problem that makes me scared to do the simplest things. Picking up the phone, going down hallways, everything. It's nice to know what's wrong with me and all...but still...as I read the psychological definition above, I start to worry if I'm even sane. "unreal or imagined" danger...oh dear. But I'm going to work on it. Soon, I'll be normal, I promise.
On other news, Jesse has decided that instead of going to Alabama, he's going to Ithaca to "see the boy." Yes, Jesse...our famous Jesse, is going to leave his two best friends to have a frolic in the garden of sexual delight. At first I was mad...all our plans were ruined. But you know, after accepting Braden's new ladyfriend, accepting this won't be so bad either. I've gotten used to disappointment. I just hope that maybe this weekend, something good will come of my party and I'll wake up the following morning to be happy for once. Happiness, wow. That's a pretty great concept.
Nothing more to say...
Saturday, February 22, 2003
Final Stage: Acceptance
Since my escape home from Bard for the weekend, I realized I had to accept what happened between Braden and I. I emailed him a few days ago (a reply I did not receive, but hopefully he understands)...and apologized for my behavior. He's happy and that's all that counts. I care about him enough to let him be happy and not to be miserable. Maybe everything happens for a reason.
As for the process of my play, writing the scene I had envisioned about Braden and I was very emotional. I feel somehow obsessive now that I write about him. But in truth, the play wouldn't have taken place if I hadn't gotten to know him. He was the inspiration for the play, and to not put him in would be ruining all the ideas I have had since november when the idea first popped into my head. There are lines in the play that make me seem pathetic.
"Well, I’m going to say it again, I love you. (Shouts) I love you Braden! I don’t care who fucking hears me; I love you even if you do have a batman plush toy on your bed"
But, people...it's just a play. This statement is utter fiction and always will be. Let me say it again, It's a play. I never loved Braden, nor would I be as intimate with him as I am in this play. It's an idea, a passing thought. Maybe I wish I did love him, maybe I would...nah, best not think about it. It's just a play, mere drama.
I just wanted to apologize to everyone...I feel like I apologize for all my actions too much because I have to. It's always my fault that something doesn't go wrong...it's been that way ever since I can remember. So, I accept the blame and move on...It's not that bad.
Lyin in my pjs on a saturday night watching "Sister Act" on the WB is the ultimate life I thought I would live. I had a passing thought about getting my phd today...I'm sure that's not going to happen. I also had a passing thought, a serious one, about Cornell's journalism program after Bard. Then I laughed to myself.
Maybe the authorities are right in saying that I am a soccer mom. Should I just give up and accept my fate like I've accepted so many other things? Should I just realize that I am woman, and I will drive a mini van and have children with generic biblical names like John and Sarah? Or should I rebel against what people think...and go to Cornell, go get my phd, and maybe, quite possibly become something of an academic? Rebel against what people are thinking and stay mad at Braden?
No, staying mad at Braden would just be stupid. He's happy...and he should be happy. I feel as though ever since Braden and I have, whatever you want to call it...the suite has been colder, less inviting...Josh, Casey, Kelly, Sara...Lord knows I respect them so much, and think of them as some of the greatest people at Bard...I just feel like there's no sense of bonding anymore. Like we've been down this road before and everything was all puppies and kitties when Braden and I were together, or trying to be together. Lord, I should have seen Braden and I would be doomed. He was practically in tears when he told me he wanted to 'give it a shot' in his muffled disjointed speech...and I just held him and told him not to cry, like I was his mother. I am no one's mother. But, not doomed, what am I mean is...oh goddamnit, I don't know what I mean. I never know what I mean. I'm like Braden, he says one thing but it means something else.
Too much drama in my life...I need to slow down, take a breath...and enjoy what little sanity I have left.
Since my escape home from Bard for the weekend, I realized I had to accept what happened between Braden and I. I emailed him a few days ago (a reply I did not receive, but hopefully he understands)...and apologized for my behavior. He's happy and that's all that counts. I care about him enough to let him be happy and not to be miserable. Maybe everything happens for a reason.
As for the process of my play, writing the scene I had envisioned about Braden and I was very emotional. I feel somehow obsessive now that I write about him. But in truth, the play wouldn't have taken place if I hadn't gotten to know him. He was the inspiration for the play, and to not put him in would be ruining all the ideas I have had since november when the idea first popped into my head. There are lines in the play that make me seem pathetic.
"Well, I’m going to say it again, I love you. (Shouts) I love you Braden! I don’t care who fucking hears me; I love you even if you do have a batman plush toy on your bed"
But, people...it's just a play. This statement is utter fiction and always will be. Let me say it again, It's a play. I never loved Braden, nor would I be as intimate with him as I am in this play. It's an idea, a passing thought. Maybe I wish I did love him, maybe I would...nah, best not think about it. It's just a play, mere drama.
I just wanted to apologize to everyone...I feel like I apologize for all my actions too much because I have to. It's always my fault that something doesn't go wrong...it's been that way ever since I can remember. So, I accept the blame and move on...It's not that bad.
Lyin in my pjs on a saturday night watching "Sister Act" on the WB is the ultimate life I thought I would live. I had a passing thought about getting my phd today...I'm sure that's not going to happen. I also had a passing thought, a serious one, about Cornell's journalism program after Bard. Then I laughed to myself.
Maybe the authorities are right in saying that I am a soccer mom. Should I just give up and accept my fate like I've accepted so many other things? Should I just realize that I am woman, and I will drive a mini van and have children with generic biblical names like John and Sarah? Or should I rebel against what people think...and go to Cornell, go get my phd, and maybe, quite possibly become something of an academic? Rebel against what people are thinking and stay mad at Braden?
No, staying mad at Braden would just be stupid. He's happy...and he should be happy. I feel as though ever since Braden and I have, whatever you want to call it...the suite has been colder, less inviting...Josh, Casey, Kelly, Sara...Lord knows I respect them so much, and think of them as some of the greatest people at Bard...I just feel like there's no sense of bonding anymore. Like we've been down this road before and everything was all puppies and kitties when Braden and I were together, or trying to be together. Lord, I should have seen Braden and I would be doomed. He was practically in tears when he told me he wanted to 'give it a shot' in his muffled disjointed speech...and I just held him and told him not to cry, like I was his mother. I am no one's mother. But, not doomed, what am I mean is...oh goddamnit, I don't know what I mean. I never know what I mean. I'm like Braden, he says one thing but it means something else.
Too much drama in my life...I need to slow down, take a breath...and enjoy what little sanity I have left.
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
The blue shirt I picked out found him love without me...
This week hasn't been a good week for me. Last night especially.
I was asking Braden if it was okay if I used him and his cartoon character Kitty Hawk in my play, "Altered Ego", about internal realities in relation to the world. I wanted to make sure, because in my play, Braden and I are dating, the storybook I always pictured me and him would have, two mismatched crazy lovers with nothing but themselves.
I apologized to Braden for ignoring him and he said he was doing the same. I don't why I ignore him, it's just part of myself. There is something frightening, something strange...I don't know. Anyway, he told me there was a reason he had ignored me. The reason was he had met someone, a girl even...at the swing dance. The danced, they liked each other and they "kinda hooked up" was the phrase that Braden used.
Well folks, there is a blue moon out tonight. Braden has two girls. My mind filled up with tears and I cried like I haven't cried in a long long time. I had been doubled crossed! We were just taking a break! He promised things would get better! And now, a week after our parting he's making out (he didn't even really make out with me!) with some girl? This, boggles my mind! The unexpected always happen to Emily Sauter. Now all my play ideas are ruined. How can I make myself in love with Braden when Braden involved with someone else. It seems so cheap and obsessive, and I've been down that road before. It's not a good road.
he was wearing that blue shirt, the one that made me sexually attracted to him...and now some other girl's pawing the buttons on it, the shirt I thought would solve our sexual disaster...was bringing him pleasure with another girl.
He apologized again today, told me he couldn't be happy with new girl because he was sad I was upset. You're damn right I'm upset I told him. I was so upset I wrote a poem:
The Blue Shirt I picked out Found Him Love
Yes, the Idea is true
Theories of love let him be happy
But so horrible is rejection
In blue shirts, you move like a spiked punchbowl
Flowing through the veins of a 12 year old
You are the 12 year old refined.
This week hasn't been a good week for me. Last night especially.
I was asking Braden if it was okay if I used him and his cartoon character Kitty Hawk in my play, "Altered Ego", about internal realities in relation to the world. I wanted to make sure, because in my play, Braden and I are dating, the storybook I always pictured me and him would have, two mismatched crazy lovers with nothing but themselves.
I apologized to Braden for ignoring him and he said he was doing the same. I don't why I ignore him, it's just part of myself. There is something frightening, something strange...I don't know. Anyway, he told me there was a reason he had ignored me. The reason was he had met someone, a girl even...at the swing dance. The danced, they liked each other and they "kinda hooked up" was the phrase that Braden used.
Well folks, there is a blue moon out tonight. Braden has two girls. My mind filled up with tears and I cried like I haven't cried in a long long time. I had been doubled crossed! We were just taking a break! He promised things would get better! And now, a week after our parting he's making out (he didn't even really make out with me!) with some girl? This, boggles my mind! The unexpected always happen to Emily Sauter. Now all my play ideas are ruined. How can I make myself in love with Braden when Braden involved with someone else. It seems so cheap and obsessive, and I've been down that road before. It's not a good road.
he was wearing that blue shirt, the one that made me sexually attracted to him...and now some other girl's pawing the buttons on it, the shirt I thought would solve our sexual disaster...was bringing him pleasure with another girl.
He apologized again today, told me he couldn't be happy with new girl because he was sad I was upset. You're damn right I'm upset I told him. I was so upset I wrote a poem:
The Blue Shirt I picked out Found Him Love
Yes, the Idea is true
Theories of love let him be happy
But so horrible is rejection
In blue shirts, you move like a spiked punchbowl
Flowing through the veins of a 12 year old
You are the 12 year old refined.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
Thank you Bard!
I just looked outside my large window to the steps of Tremblay. That's right...no one has shovelled. There is about, 18 inches outside that I will have to step in. Thank you Bard!
Bard also plowed my car in last night, making my car barely visible. Thank you Bard!
We also had class yesterday while everyone was delightfully proclaiming, "Snow day!!!" on their away messages, I trudged to class at 10 AM, my face frozen from the icy whip of the snow. While whiteout conditions ensued, I learned about the French Satirical theater. Though I did get a B+ on my paper, it wasn't worth walking all the way to Olin for a class when I could have been safe in the very heated confines of Tremblay. Oh yeah, our heat works now. And might I say, a little too well. I wish the heater would make up its mind about working. So thank you Bard, for classes and a crappy dorm full of assholes.
Bard did shut a few things down, like things we needed. No cafe, no Kline, no green onion, no shuttle. But we STILL HAD CLASS. My dinner last night was chocolate, swedish fish, and wheat thins. My lunch was a microwavable Chef boyardee lasagna (okay, I don't why they call it lasagna, there's no cheese in it!)...so once again, thank you Bard!
and while I was stuck in Tremblay with only reading to occupy my time (oh man, reading about Alexander the Great in 3 different accounts is sucky) the WHOLE WORLD was watching Joe Millionaire. But no, it's Bard's "policy" not to let the students have TV. So everyone knows what happened but me, but dont tell me because my mom taped it for me...so thank you bard, for not giving us a window into to the outside the world. At least they give us pretty crappy internet.
So I just want to say again, thank you Bard for taking my mother's hard earned cash, the money she's been saving up so I could get a decent education...the money she's been making, 15,000 dollars a year, all by herself now for almost 11 years...so her two daughters could go to good schools and grow up to be upstanding citizens.
I just realized something. Today's the 18th. That's the day my father died. 11 years ago. Wow...
Nothing like an awkward ending...
I just looked outside my large window to the steps of Tremblay. That's right...no one has shovelled. There is about, 18 inches outside that I will have to step in. Thank you Bard!
Bard also plowed my car in last night, making my car barely visible. Thank you Bard!
We also had class yesterday while everyone was delightfully proclaiming, "Snow day!!!" on their away messages, I trudged to class at 10 AM, my face frozen from the icy whip of the snow. While whiteout conditions ensued, I learned about the French Satirical theater. Though I did get a B+ on my paper, it wasn't worth walking all the way to Olin for a class when I could have been safe in the very heated confines of Tremblay. Oh yeah, our heat works now. And might I say, a little too well. I wish the heater would make up its mind about working. So thank you Bard, for classes and a crappy dorm full of assholes.
Bard did shut a few things down, like things we needed. No cafe, no Kline, no green onion, no shuttle. But we STILL HAD CLASS. My dinner last night was chocolate, swedish fish, and wheat thins. My lunch was a microwavable Chef boyardee lasagna (okay, I don't why they call it lasagna, there's no cheese in it!)...so once again, thank you Bard!
and while I was stuck in Tremblay with only reading to occupy my time (oh man, reading about Alexander the Great in 3 different accounts is sucky) the WHOLE WORLD was watching Joe Millionaire. But no, it's Bard's "policy" not to let the students have TV. So everyone knows what happened but me, but dont tell me because my mom taped it for me...so thank you bard, for not giving us a window into to the outside the world. At least they give us pretty crappy internet.
So I just want to say again, thank you Bard for taking my mother's hard earned cash, the money she's been saving up so I could get a decent education...the money she's been making, 15,000 dollars a year, all by herself now for almost 11 years...so her two daughters could go to good schools and grow up to be upstanding citizens.
I just realized something. Today's the 18th. That's the day my father died. 11 years ago. Wow...
Nothing like an awkward ending...
Sunday, February 16, 2003
Me and The Lord
Since the heat in tremblay is apparently broken (once again, i pay 38,000 dollars a year why???) and the temp. outside is a very chilled 10 below, I have decided not to go outside today. My body aches from my 15 bouts at the "River Rat Rumble"..the fencing meet that I went to at Bard's favorite school, Vassar. There I fenced an assortment of people, from jerks (I kicked the jerk's ass) to a girl who looked like she was seven (the little girl kicked my ass). But one sticks out most of all, he was...The Lord. The reason I call him the Lord is that his last name is Lord, and by the way he acts, you would think he was the Lord. He's a cocky fencer (most guy fencers are anyway)...who believes himself to be the God of foil. He's a good fencer, probably the best one they have...but his motions, his flicking technique (i have marks from where he whipped me with his blade)...is just so obnoxious. I got one touch off the Lord...and when I poked him, he raised his other hand in the air to symbolize "one." 5-1...that asshole kicked my ass...but I got a touch off the Lord! That alone made me feel good about myself...stabbing the Lord. I hope he bruises the jerkass.
My valentines' day was good...Trefor and I watched "Road to Bali" starrin Bing Crosby and Bob Hope. Nothing beats early 1950's jokes I don't get. But alas, the movie was good.
A hot or not update: My score has gone down...ehh I'm not depressed. The only girls who get 9.9s are made up sluts. And I am glad to not be a not made up slut. I've met a lot of nice people though...
who knew happiness could come out of a pathetic website...
What an age we live in!
Since the heat in tremblay is apparently broken (once again, i pay 38,000 dollars a year why???) and the temp. outside is a very chilled 10 below, I have decided not to go outside today. My body aches from my 15 bouts at the "River Rat Rumble"..the fencing meet that I went to at Bard's favorite school, Vassar. There I fenced an assortment of people, from jerks (I kicked the jerk's ass) to a girl who looked like she was seven (the little girl kicked my ass). But one sticks out most of all, he was...The Lord. The reason I call him the Lord is that his last name is Lord, and by the way he acts, you would think he was the Lord. He's a cocky fencer (most guy fencers are anyway)...who believes himself to be the God of foil. He's a good fencer, probably the best one they have...but his motions, his flicking technique (i have marks from where he whipped me with his blade)...is just so obnoxious. I got one touch off the Lord...and when I poked him, he raised his other hand in the air to symbolize "one." 5-1...that asshole kicked my ass...but I got a touch off the Lord! That alone made me feel good about myself...stabbing the Lord. I hope he bruises the jerkass.
My valentines' day was good...Trefor and I watched "Road to Bali" starrin Bing Crosby and Bob Hope. Nothing beats early 1950's jokes I don't get. But alas, the movie was good.
A hot or not update: My score has gone down...ehh I'm not depressed. The only girls who get 9.9s are made up sluts. And I am glad to not be a not made up slut. I've met a lot of nice people though...
who knew happiness could come out of a pathetic website...
What an age we live in!
Thursday, February 13, 2003
Fuck you, you shitty holiday!
I hate Valentine's day...and even if I had a boyfriend, I would still hate the holiday more, because I am not romantic. I hate this holiday most of all. I like conversation hearts, but that's all the fucking holiday has going for it.
In the spirit of my loneliness (Alex won't sleep with me because he doesn't want to jeopardize our friendship...hmmm) I put myself on that pathetic website where people all over America rate you on one bad photo (my photo is the one in this very blog) called "Hot or Not". Right now I'm rated a 6.8. I am surprised I would get such a high rating. I never thought myself of as "hot"...only as "not." You can also meet people...and many 'fine young men' have made inquiries on if i'll 'meet them.' The strange part is, most of them are in the military. What the fuck! Do I exude military army whorrishness just through my pose and stance? Did Johnny Garrison send out a memo to Fort Drum? True, they are kind of cute...but I think I'm done with Army guys. Well, we'll see what happens...maybe this is telling me something...that Alex is right. Me, Fort Drum, meatloaf in the oven, chatting on the phone, two children shuffling between my high heel shoes.
Anyway...my play is getting into full swing. I don't have a title...but I plan to incorporate my full life...with sub plots (Annie is actually real, living with Col. Havermeyer in California, where Annie is always disturbed how her husband is turning paler everyday and how he looks likes exactly like this young private named Johnny Garrison...) Alex is in it, Jesse, Braden, my therapist, my mother, the men of my past...the ideas of being watched by a character that isn't real...or is it? I plan to make this play the most fucked up thing I've written...I want the audience to see my confusion, my anger in what I'm trying to do...
sound obsessive?
you bet your bottom dollar!
I hate Valentine's day...and even if I had a boyfriend, I would still hate the holiday more, because I am not romantic. I hate this holiday most of all. I like conversation hearts, but that's all the fucking holiday has going for it.
In the spirit of my loneliness (Alex won't sleep with me because he doesn't want to jeopardize our friendship...hmmm) I put myself on that pathetic website where people all over America rate you on one bad photo (my photo is the one in this very blog) called "Hot or Not". Right now I'm rated a 6.8. I am surprised I would get such a high rating. I never thought myself of as "hot"...only as "not." You can also meet people...and many 'fine young men' have made inquiries on if i'll 'meet them.' The strange part is, most of them are in the military. What the fuck! Do I exude military army whorrishness just through my pose and stance? Did Johnny Garrison send out a memo to Fort Drum? True, they are kind of cute...but I think I'm done with Army guys. Well, we'll see what happens...maybe this is telling me something...that Alex is right. Me, Fort Drum, meatloaf in the oven, chatting on the phone, two children shuffling between my high heel shoes.
Anyway...my play is getting into full swing. I don't have a title...but I plan to incorporate my full life...with sub plots (Annie is actually real, living with Col. Havermeyer in California, where Annie is always disturbed how her husband is turning paler everyday and how he looks likes exactly like this young private named Johnny Garrison...) Alex is in it, Jesse, Braden, my therapist, my mother, the men of my past...the ideas of being watched by a character that isn't real...or is it? I plan to make this play the most fucked up thing I've written...I want the audience to see my confusion, my anger in what I'm trying to do...
sound obsessive?
you bet your bottom dollar!
Tuesday, February 11, 2003
Last night, I was Britney Spears
Last night was...interesting. It was a night of dancing, celebration, of painful realizations, and of strange conversation.
Jesse and I danced last night. He was Michael Jackson, complete with hat over Michael Jackson's mutilated face...and I was Britney Spears, glasses off, hair a mess...prancing around in a t-shirt that was entirely too tiny for me. There was something about last night, I really needed some "action" if I can be polite about my sexual advances. Of course, my boyfriend and I are basically on the sexless side (his inexperience and my fear of intimacy and relationships makes it hard to cross into that hot and heavy barrier)...and after I danced with Jesse, I went over to Braden's room and I told him how I felt. We chatted, with long awkward pauses that symbolize our relationship. We worked things out but it left us again single...and both a little depressed, I left his room and left the suite a sad woman.
The only person online to "cheer me up" was the past Drag Race hook up, the "Doin' somethin stupid" boy himself...Sam. Sam's comin to visit in March and told me he'd gladly "calm my animal urges." Now, I don't really know how I feel about that. I was never one to dive into the sack with anyone (if you don't count Johnny, considering that was a bathroom floor)...but sex with Sam at Farm? What would Nathalie say, considering their relationship was always confusing to me...Oh, I remember last year waking up with the christmas lights still on, knowing Nathalie and Sam were tangled in the same sheets in his bed while I was alone in our smelly room. Man, I miss Nathalie.
Today I was reading the Observer and I flipped to the back page to see my cartoon. There I was, "Adventure in Bardland" being manwiched by two Bard men of my past: Braden and Lenny. It made me feel kind of strange that I had hooked up with all the Observer Cartoonists, it made me feel a little on the whorry side...not that I am...well, I don't know. What do you think?
I figured something out about myself while talking to Alex a few days ago: that every guy that was my "sexual first" has been a complete asshole. My first kiss was Ned, and he was a complete asshole...the first guy that felt me up was John and he was a jerk to me...and the list goes on and on. The only person who I count as not a jerk was Peter...which is good because if I lost my virginity to a jerk, I would never forgive myself.
Well everyone, Emily is single again...hmmm...what am I going to do now?
Last night was...interesting. It was a night of dancing, celebration, of painful realizations, and of strange conversation.
Jesse and I danced last night. He was Michael Jackson, complete with hat over Michael Jackson's mutilated face...and I was Britney Spears, glasses off, hair a mess...prancing around in a t-shirt that was entirely too tiny for me. There was something about last night, I really needed some "action" if I can be polite about my sexual advances. Of course, my boyfriend and I are basically on the sexless side (his inexperience and my fear of intimacy and relationships makes it hard to cross into that hot and heavy barrier)...and after I danced with Jesse, I went over to Braden's room and I told him how I felt. We chatted, with long awkward pauses that symbolize our relationship. We worked things out but it left us again single...and both a little depressed, I left his room and left the suite a sad woman.
The only person online to "cheer me up" was the past Drag Race hook up, the "Doin' somethin stupid" boy himself...Sam. Sam's comin to visit in March and told me he'd gladly "calm my animal urges." Now, I don't really know how I feel about that. I was never one to dive into the sack with anyone (if you don't count Johnny, considering that was a bathroom floor)...but sex with Sam at Farm? What would Nathalie say, considering their relationship was always confusing to me...Oh, I remember last year waking up with the christmas lights still on, knowing Nathalie and Sam were tangled in the same sheets in his bed while I was alone in our smelly room. Man, I miss Nathalie.
Today I was reading the Observer and I flipped to the back page to see my cartoon. There I was, "Adventure in Bardland" being manwiched by two Bard men of my past: Braden and Lenny. It made me feel kind of strange that I had hooked up with all the Observer Cartoonists, it made me feel a little on the whorry side...not that I am...well, I don't know. What do you think?
I figured something out about myself while talking to Alex a few days ago: that every guy that was my "sexual first" has been a complete asshole. My first kiss was Ned, and he was a complete asshole...the first guy that felt me up was John and he was a jerk to me...and the list goes on and on. The only person who I count as not a jerk was Peter...which is good because if I lost my virginity to a jerk, I would never forgive myself.
Well everyone, Emily is single again...hmmm...what am I going to do now?
Monday, February 10, 2003
The Longest Unzipping of My Life
My trip to West Point revealed more about me and Alex than even Indiana could ever tell me. We sat in Schades (ahhh nothing finer than Schades, serving the long grey line for over 40 years, you know) for over two hours, just talking...him in his grey uniform, I in my usual Emily wear of black shirt, jeans, padded bra...And I'm here to explain to you that Alex isn't so bad. It's been the year of backtalk and lashing out because of my confused and sometimes rattled emotions. I could blame myself for everyone's hatred of Alex Raggio, but why blame anything now? But I implore all the readers of my blog to start anew with the boy you hardly know. Sure his political views might seem a little off color for our democratic Bardian ways, but there's nothing wrong with alternative political views. And he does like guns, but we're not perfect. But I learned a lot about Alex that makes me realize why I first started to date him. There is something about Alex...
We had conversations from war to Johnny Garrison. I told him a funny story about something Johnny had told me in my altered state. Johnny leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I would put you in the bathtub, but I don't think Alex would approve of that." I told Alex that statement always made me confused. "You don't want to put me in the bathtub, yet you'll try to sleep with me...I don't think Alex would approve of you sleeping with me either dear Johnny." Alex and I had a good laugh. At least we can laugh at Johnny now.
Alex left me with a handshake, a somewhat odd gesture...but I guess it symbolizes new things to come.
I sped home on i-87 going 90 miles an hour...fast slow, fast fast slow. I was listening to "Hey Pretty" by Poe, the frankly sexual song that always makes me think about Alex. I never liked thinking about Alex in a sexual way, but there was something about the first weekend we spent together, I woke up wearing a white skirt and a white tank top...my arms around a soldier, and not just that, a West Point cadet who claimed me as his own. There was something about that weekend, something that reminded me that I was human, that I was an object of sexual desire, that I was like the girl in the song...
Don't you want to take a ride with me...through my world? And boy, what a ride it has been.
Alex truly was the longest unzipping of my life...in a way you should find the end of the zipper and then everything will be revealed to you. But the zipper just went on and on and Alex never revealed to me but a surprise around everything turn. Even as I, head down in the delta high school parking lot got what was coming to me...I always thought that something good had to be around the corner though I never let anyone know that.
Has the story of Alex ended? Will he just be another name added to the wall among the names of the past: Colin, Jason, Scott, Matt, Josh, Ned, John, Brian, Todd, Peter etc? I really have no idea.
Because Lord only knows what I feel.
My trip to West Point revealed more about me and Alex than even Indiana could ever tell me. We sat in Schades (ahhh nothing finer than Schades, serving the long grey line for over 40 years, you know) for over two hours, just talking...him in his grey uniform, I in my usual Emily wear of black shirt, jeans, padded bra...And I'm here to explain to you that Alex isn't so bad. It's been the year of backtalk and lashing out because of my confused and sometimes rattled emotions. I could blame myself for everyone's hatred of Alex Raggio, but why blame anything now? But I implore all the readers of my blog to start anew with the boy you hardly know. Sure his political views might seem a little off color for our democratic Bardian ways, but there's nothing wrong with alternative political views. And he does like guns, but we're not perfect. But I learned a lot about Alex that makes me realize why I first started to date him. There is something about Alex...
We had conversations from war to Johnny Garrison. I told him a funny story about something Johnny had told me in my altered state. Johnny leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I would put you in the bathtub, but I don't think Alex would approve of that." I told Alex that statement always made me confused. "You don't want to put me in the bathtub, yet you'll try to sleep with me...I don't think Alex would approve of you sleeping with me either dear Johnny." Alex and I had a good laugh. At least we can laugh at Johnny now.
Alex left me with a handshake, a somewhat odd gesture...but I guess it symbolizes new things to come.
I sped home on i-87 going 90 miles an hour...fast slow, fast fast slow. I was listening to "Hey Pretty" by Poe, the frankly sexual song that always makes me think about Alex. I never liked thinking about Alex in a sexual way, but there was something about the first weekend we spent together, I woke up wearing a white skirt and a white tank top...my arms around a soldier, and not just that, a West Point cadet who claimed me as his own. There was something about that weekend, something that reminded me that I was human, that I was an object of sexual desire, that I was like the girl in the song...
Don't you want to take a ride with me...through my world? And boy, what a ride it has been.
Alex truly was the longest unzipping of my life...in a way you should find the end of the zipper and then everything will be revealed to you. But the zipper just went on and on and Alex never revealed to me but a surprise around everything turn. Even as I, head down in the delta high school parking lot got what was coming to me...I always thought that something good had to be around the corner though I never let anyone know that.
Has the story of Alex ended? Will he just be another name added to the wall among the names of the past: Colin, Jason, Scott, Matt, Josh, Ned, John, Brian, Todd, Peter etc? I really have no idea.
Because Lord only knows what I feel.
Saturday, February 08, 2003
Drunk on a tuesday???
Well no, right now I'm drunk on a Friday. I'm pretty drunk...though I have the coherance (spelling?) to actually write in my blog. I thought you'd like to see what it's like to see how Druken Emily writes in her blog.
Jesse dumped out the piss brandy, the symbol of hard times with hottie Alex Raggio...(well not hottie...I still love him to pieces though, yeah I'll admit it, I never stopped loving him except he has this new whore...fuck that shit! What about me!) Wait, I have Braden...I tried to get Braden drunk tonight...man, I am trashed...I'm blasting Tiffany, my mind is a blur. I do like Braden though, he's pretty trashed too...maybe I'll feel the ability to wrap my arms around him (I think we're alone now)...damnit, I hsould change this song...okay, I will...be right back! I would play Poe's, "Hey Pretty" that song always reminds me of the first time Alex and I spent our first weekend together. But I've been listening to that song obsessively since I found out who wrote it. Man, that song is so sexually charged it bothers me. Maybe that's why Alex's frank sexual nature always bothered me or maybe it never did. Anyway, a fitting tribute to Alex Raggio...why am I talking about him so much?
Anyway, the song that's playin right now is paul oakenfold's "starry eyed surprise"
Jeremey says if he started a blog...Jesse should cut his hands off. What the fuck! Peter has magically appeared and I'm trashed, have I mentioned I'm trashed? I'm eager for love and a loss for anything feasble (spelling) Jesse is huggin me. God I love him too...he's my best friend and all that jazz. Man I'm trashed. There's this Poe song, Angry Johnny...and it makes me think about Johnny Garrison..."Johnny...angry Johnny...I want to kill you...I want to blow you (well I already did that) away (haven't done that yet) but I'm over that shit. Johnny is crazy and I'm still sane. So, what's the fucking point!
I want to kill you...I want to blow you away. I wouldn't mind taking johnny off the planet but why sacrifice my life just to get rid of a person that fucked me up. Fuck that shit! I don't care about anything.
Jeremy is talking to me now...something about not being able to spell. Right now I can't spell so great either. He spelled it messed up though. Jahn, what a moron!
Man, I think I need to get laid. Do you know how long it's been...2 years. and it was statutory and all that jazz...fuck that shit. Maybe I should just become a nun...too bad I'm presbyterian and we don't have nuns. Celebacy could be good...or could destroy me. It's destroying me...
I am going to curl up in a corner now...or jump on braden. Jumping on Braden...hahahaha...even when I'm drunk, that makes me laugh...picture me throwing him up against a door...how sexy, how erotic...how...
well, maybe I should give it a whirl...ride the sexaul tilt a whirl. hahahaha, that's funny. I have my period, I can't ride the best amusement ride ever conceived...hahaha what a great pun.
Hmm...I think I need another drink.
Well no, right now I'm drunk on a Friday. I'm pretty drunk...though I have the coherance (spelling?) to actually write in my blog. I thought you'd like to see what it's like to see how Druken Emily writes in her blog.
Jesse dumped out the piss brandy, the symbol of hard times with hottie Alex Raggio...(well not hottie...I still love him to pieces though, yeah I'll admit it, I never stopped loving him except he has this new whore...fuck that shit! What about me!) Wait, I have Braden...I tried to get Braden drunk tonight...man, I am trashed...I'm blasting Tiffany, my mind is a blur. I do like Braden though, he's pretty trashed too...maybe I'll feel the ability to wrap my arms around him (I think we're alone now)...damnit, I hsould change this song...okay, I will...be right back! I would play Poe's, "Hey Pretty" that song always reminds me of the first time Alex and I spent our first weekend together. But I've been listening to that song obsessively since I found out who wrote it. Man, that song is so sexually charged it bothers me. Maybe that's why Alex's frank sexual nature always bothered me or maybe it never did. Anyway, a fitting tribute to Alex Raggio...why am I talking about him so much?
Anyway, the song that's playin right now is paul oakenfold's "starry eyed surprise"
Jeremey says if he started a blog...Jesse should cut his hands off. What the fuck! Peter has magically appeared and I'm trashed, have I mentioned I'm trashed? I'm eager for love and a loss for anything feasble (spelling) Jesse is huggin me. God I love him too...he's my best friend and all that jazz. Man I'm trashed. There's this Poe song, Angry Johnny...and it makes me think about Johnny Garrison..."Johnny...angry Johnny...I want to kill you...I want to blow you (well I already did that) away (haven't done that yet) but I'm over that shit. Johnny is crazy and I'm still sane. So, what's the fucking point!
I want to kill you...I want to blow you away. I wouldn't mind taking johnny off the planet but why sacrifice my life just to get rid of a person that fucked me up. Fuck that shit! I don't care about anything.
Jeremy is talking to me now...something about not being able to spell. Right now I can't spell so great either. He spelled it messed up though. Jahn, what a moron!
Man, I think I need to get laid. Do you know how long it's been...2 years. and it was statutory and all that jazz...fuck that shit. Maybe I should just become a nun...too bad I'm presbyterian and we don't have nuns. Celebacy could be good...or could destroy me. It's destroying me...
I am going to curl up in a corner now...or jump on braden. Jumping on Braden...hahahaha...even when I'm drunk, that makes me laugh...picture me throwing him up against a door...how sexy, how erotic...how...
well, maybe I should give it a whirl...ride the sexaul tilt a whirl. hahahaha, that's funny. I have my period, I can't ride the best amusement ride ever conceived...hahaha what a great pun.
Hmm...I think I need another drink.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
help!
This is a public cry...I need to think up a plot for my one act play by next week.
I have three choices I want to do and I need your help, oh awesome readers of my blog!
okay number 1:
four characters sit around in the Reagan Cafe on the 5th year after september 11th. The main character, Miss America...is trying to explain how it wasn't Osama that did it, but the United States used it to replenish the economy (though that doesn't seem the case now, it's a play) and I would fill it with good time political liberal bullshit...I already started to write it actually. It's pretty good.
Here's a sample:
Narrator: We got drunk that night, the fifth anniversary of September 11th. We weren’t celebrating anything, if anything the bar we were at was celebrating something, with balloons and streamers and some patriotic beer. Everyone was there, well everyone we knew and they were all drinking this dyed beer, sort of like the Irish green beer for St. Patrick’s day. The cocktail napkins had little 11’s on them in the shape of the twin towers. I hadn’t forgotten what the twin towers were or what they looked like, if anything they were more prevalent than ever. It seems that every bar, restaurant, pet shop, deli…everyone had a small framed portrait of the two beautiful twins behind the counter. It reminded me a little of the portraits of Mao around China, a large dictating picture with massive appeal that made you want to weep or fight against something. But there we were…in the Reagan Café, around a small high table…with a celebration we were confused about.
Choice 2: I call it "A Second Chance"...a woman is still in love with the man she dated a long time ago but all her friends think he's a total asshole. Her job is the make everyone see that she's right by realizing her faults as a person. In the end, I think she's right all along because he's an ass, but I just want people to see that what you say about one person may not be what you want other people to think about them. Yeah, it sounds like a romantic comedy, but it could have some good "Full House" moments, complete with sappy music.
Choice 3: I battle Annie Viller. Emily Sauter, the playwright...goes head to head with her alter ego in an attempt to regain her life from her inner reality. Characters would include: Annie, Annie's newest thing sexy Colonel Haven Havermeyer of the Irishian (don't ask) forces until excommunicated from his troops by the queen. I don't know who would back me up, maybe Johnny Garrison (yeah like he would back me up that fool, I don't want him in my play), Annie does have a lot of dirt on me. The play would be able not being able to kill something that is so apart of you even though technically, Annie isn't real.
So there we are, three play choices that I am considering. Please help me...I have a monologue due in a week.
Thank you,
Emily
This is a public cry...I need to think up a plot for my one act play by next week.
I have three choices I want to do and I need your help, oh awesome readers of my blog!
okay number 1:
four characters sit around in the Reagan Cafe on the 5th year after september 11th. The main character, Miss America...is trying to explain how it wasn't Osama that did it, but the United States used it to replenish the economy (though that doesn't seem the case now, it's a play) and I would fill it with good time political liberal bullshit...I already started to write it actually. It's pretty good.
Here's a sample:
Narrator: We got drunk that night, the fifth anniversary of September 11th. We weren’t celebrating anything, if anything the bar we were at was celebrating something, with balloons and streamers and some patriotic beer. Everyone was there, well everyone we knew and they were all drinking this dyed beer, sort of like the Irish green beer for St. Patrick’s day. The cocktail napkins had little 11’s on them in the shape of the twin towers. I hadn’t forgotten what the twin towers were or what they looked like, if anything they were more prevalent than ever. It seems that every bar, restaurant, pet shop, deli…everyone had a small framed portrait of the two beautiful twins behind the counter. It reminded me a little of the portraits of Mao around China, a large dictating picture with massive appeal that made you want to weep or fight against something. But there we were…in the Reagan Café, around a small high table…with a celebration we were confused about.
Choice 2: I call it "A Second Chance"...a woman is still in love with the man she dated a long time ago but all her friends think he's a total asshole. Her job is the make everyone see that she's right by realizing her faults as a person. In the end, I think she's right all along because he's an ass, but I just want people to see that what you say about one person may not be what you want other people to think about them. Yeah, it sounds like a romantic comedy, but it could have some good "Full House" moments, complete with sappy music.
Choice 3: I battle Annie Viller. Emily Sauter, the playwright...goes head to head with her alter ego in an attempt to regain her life from her inner reality. Characters would include: Annie, Annie's newest thing sexy Colonel Haven Havermeyer of the Irishian (don't ask) forces until excommunicated from his troops by the queen. I don't know who would back me up, maybe Johnny Garrison (yeah like he would back me up that fool, I don't want him in my play), Annie does have a lot of dirt on me. The play would be able not being able to kill something that is so apart of you even though technically, Annie isn't real.
So there we are, three play choices that I am considering. Please help me...I have a monologue due in a week.
Thank you,
Emily
Sunday, February 02, 2003
Der West Point or "How the Other Half Lives"
My goal last night was to act as Republican as possible. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of...smiled and thanked the dean of West Point for this great honor of attending this function, toasted the President of the United States in a West Point wine glass, and...for the first time in my life...wore make up. I'm not talking gloss and blush...I'm talkin the whole nine yards. I looked like a texas beauty queen. And while looking in the mirror in the bathroom while eavsdropping on blonde army whores, I got the first good look at myself. My hair was pulled up with blonde curls extending down my face, my make up was applied flawlessly, and my dress was shimmering in the bad bathroom lighting. I looked like just another Army whore in a ladies room reapplying my make up I had bought at the Clinque counter in Macys (let's just say I spent so much money, they gave me a free umbrella and wished me luck while I signed on the expensive dotted line). In the morning, I sat in a row of white republican women all getting manicures, and it made me feel like one of them. I look now at my shining glossy fingertips and think to myself, "Now the real Emily would be against this." But there was something elegant about yesterday that made me realize that maybe I had chosen the wrong path for myself...yes the dirt poor liberal life seemed so grand and wonderful for me, but what about the "other side?" I could get used to dropped 140 bucks at the clinque counter, smiling while i was lead into a ball where all these beautiful women were, wearing expensive dresses and pounds of make up. I have come to terms that in a month's time, I will be 20 and with being 20 comes the idea that maybe it's high time I put the childhood behind me and grow up. Being a woman in America is harder than it looks. And I want to know if I have what it takes to be a "face in the crowd."
West Point at night looks like a concentration camp. "der west point" with the bright lights streaming on you, the wet stone walls of the barracks, the grey on grey on grey atmosphere, the shrill yell of the loudspeaker. I almost caught myself looking for the creamatorium. It's not a happy place to be and I have the feeling that I think I should never go back there again. I say that, but this time I mean it. I'm through with my West Point fascination. The military is no place for Emily Sauter.
I finally saw Maggie in person for the first time. I didn't meet her because I didn't really want to. But I saw her...she's a dainty creature, bland...doesn't seem like she has character. She seems to be the silent American woman...someone Alex can say "That's my girl" to while she cooks dinner and has his children. And good for him, he deserves a pushover like that. We exchanged an awkward conversation. He got new glasses...retro 60's style that make him look like an astronaut. It wasn't nice to see him, there's nothing new about him but a glow of sexual gratification that was disturbing to me.
It makes me sad that when I sat in a room with all these stern identical faces...that these men were the future of America. I couldn't get past the fact that all these boys were going to running our country, getting my tax dollars. I also used the phrase, "When I run for office..." in conversation. I could never run for any office. You hear of an elected official from Bard College? And me, I can't keep my mouth shut about anything.
Now, as I dread going back to Bard where homework and an angry boyfriend await me (well I don't blame him, I'm angry at myself too)...I can't help to think about beautifying myself...letting loose my primitive girlhood and submitting into womanhood. I could be just as attractive as those army whores in the bathroom...as bland as Maggie...as enchanting as the Dean's wife who told me she loved my name, they have a daughter named Emily as well...as horrific and as stupid as the girls on "girls gone wild."
I could be the American girl.
But, with all i've gone through this weekend...would it be worth it?
My goal last night was to act as Republican as possible. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of...smiled and thanked the dean of West Point for this great honor of attending this function, toasted the President of the United States in a West Point wine glass, and...for the first time in my life...wore make up. I'm not talking gloss and blush...I'm talkin the whole nine yards. I looked like a texas beauty queen. And while looking in the mirror in the bathroom while eavsdropping on blonde army whores, I got the first good look at myself. My hair was pulled up with blonde curls extending down my face, my make up was applied flawlessly, and my dress was shimmering in the bad bathroom lighting. I looked like just another Army whore in a ladies room reapplying my make up I had bought at the Clinque counter in Macys (let's just say I spent so much money, they gave me a free umbrella and wished me luck while I signed on the expensive dotted line). In the morning, I sat in a row of white republican women all getting manicures, and it made me feel like one of them. I look now at my shining glossy fingertips and think to myself, "Now the real Emily would be against this." But there was something elegant about yesterday that made me realize that maybe I had chosen the wrong path for myself...yes the dirt poor liberal life seemed so grand and wonderful for me, but what about the "other side?" I could get used to dropped 140 bucks at the clinque counter, smiling while i was lead into a ball where all these beautiful women were, wearing expensive dresses and pounds of make up. I have come to terms that in a month's time, I will be 20 and with being 20 comes the idea that maybe it's high time I put the childhood behind me and grow up. Being a woman in America is harder than it looks. And I want to know if I have what it takes to be a "face in the crowd."
West Point at night looks like a concentration camp. "der west point" with the bright lights streaming on you, the wet stone walls of the barracks, the grey on grey on grey atmosphere, the shrill yell of the loudspeaker. I almost caught myself looking for the creamatorium. It's not a happy place to be and I have the feeling that I think I should never go back there again. I say that, but this time I mean it. I'm through with my West Point fascination. The military is no place for Emily Sauter.
I finally saw Maggie in person for the first time. I didn't meet her because I didn't really want to. But I saw her...she's a dainty creature, bland...doesn't seem like she has character. She seems to be the silent American woman...someone Alex can say "That's my girl" to while she cooks dinner and has his children. And good for him, he deserves a pushover like that. We exchanged an awkward conversation. He got new glasses...retro 60's style that make him look like an astronaut. It wasn't nice to see him, there's nothing new about him but a glow of sexual gratification that was disturbing to me.
It makes me sad that when I sat in a room with all these stern identical faces...that these men were the future of America. I couldn't get past the fact that all these boys were going to running our country, getting my tax dollars. I also used the phrase, "When I run for office..." in conversation. I could never run for any office. You hear of an elected official from Bard College? And me, I can't keep my mouth shut about anything.
Now, as I dread going back to Bard where homework and an angry boyfriend await me (well I don't blame him, I'm angry at myself too)...I can't help to think about beautifying myself...letting loose my primitive girlhood and submitting into womanhood. I could be just as attractive as those army whores in the bathroom...as bland as Maggie...as enchanting as the Dean's wife who told me she loved my name, they have a daughter named Emily as well...as horrific and as stupid as the girls on "girls gone wild."
I could be the American girl.
But, with all i've gone through this weekend...would it be worth it?
Friday, January 31, 2003
wheels out in wheelchair wearing a dunce hat and swinging a cat
"I'm Emily and I'm the biggest idiot ever..."
Look, I'll be honest with you people because I care about the people who read this (well, MOST of the people who read this) and I think it's good to be honest and nothing beats honesty unless honesty beats you first...whatever that means.
So anyway, it happened over break with a man by the name of Colin Brady Donegan. And see, the thing is that he has a girlfriend (and not a fine one, may I add...) and Colin and I have a history...a history of quiet sexual banter, disturbing staring contests, sexual frustration stemming back a good six years. We are friends now and he's a really nice guy, college has really mellowed him out. But we still have all this sexual frustration and since we wanted to be friends, we decided that we had to "get it out of the way" so it wouldn't happen again. Okay, you can tell me I was stupid in doing that, and maybe I did it for a stupid reason. It kills me why I actually did it. Because I thought that since I'm dating Braden, I'm not going to be able to see unbridled lust and passion for a long time so I thought I should get all the ideas out of my head. I pictured my relationship for the first time with Braden as going down a long dark path where I wouldn't be able to be free again. You certainly shouldn't date someone if you believe dating them is like throwing yourself off the plank into shark infested waters.
After Colin's three minutes of "we shouldn't be doing this" ended...my brain began to think, "is Braden what I really want" or do I want to float from man to man like I did back in the day...and if ever getting a boyfriend, I would immediatly cheat on him. I should have learned my lesson in the Delta High School parking lot that it's not okay to cheat on your boyfriend but getting threatened didn't even stop me.
From someone with a fear of intimacy...how can I continue this reckless path!
I told Braden last night everything I'm telling you all now. And all I know is that I don't know anything. I am the biggest idiot ever.
So this weekend, when I watch Alex and his gun totin' gal smile in each other's arms...I'm going to shed some tears, because it seems that everyone can find happiness (even jerks like Alex) while I could find happiness but I keep fucking it up. I care about Braden, but it seems that I would rather have the path of the 2nd rate whore than to be the girlfriend of one of the smarest and most adorable boys I know.
"I'm Emily and I'm the biggest idiot ever..."
Look, I'll be honest with you people because I care about the people who read this (well, MOST of the people who read this) and I think it's good to be honest and nothing beats honesty unless honesty beats you first...whatever that means.
So anyway, it happened over break with a man by the name of Colin Brady Donegan. And see, the thing is that he has a girlfriend (and not a fine one, may I add...) and Colin and I have a history...a history of quiet sexual banter, disturbing staring contests, sexual frustration stemming back a good six years. We are friends now and he's a really nice guy, college has really mellowed him out. But we still have all this sexual frustration and since we wanted to be friends, we decided that we had to "get it out of the way" so it wouldn't happen again. Okay, you can tell me I was stupid in doing that, and maybe I did it for a stupid reason. It kills me why I actually did it. Because I thought that since I'm dating Braden, I'm not going to be able to see unbridled lust and passion for a long time so I thought I should get all the ideas out of my head. I pictured my relationship for the first time with Braden as going down a long dark path where I wouldn't be able to be free again. You certainly shouldn't date someone if you believe dating them is like throwing yourself off the plank into shark infested waters.
After Colin's three minutes of "we shouldn't be doing this" ended...my brain began to think, "is Braden what I really want" or do I want to float from man to man like I did back in the day...and if ever getting a boyfriend, I would immediatly cheat on him. I should have learned my lesson in the Delta High School parking lot that it's not okay to cheat on your boyfriend but getting threatened didn't even stop me.
From someone with a fear of intimacy...how can I continue this reckless path!
I told Braden last night everything I'm telling you all now. And all I know is that I don't know anything. I am the biggest idiot ever.
So this weekend, when I watch Alex and his gun totin' gal smile in each other's arms...I'm going to shed some tears, because it seems that everyone can find happiness (even jerks like Alex) while I could find happiness but I keep fucking it up. I care about Braden, but it seems that I would rather have the path of the 2nd rate whore than to be the girlfriend of one of the smarest and most adorable boys I know.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Movin' on up...to the east side (of tremblay that is)
Yesterday was spent mostly in bed...not wanting to move. The heat of the left side of tremblay was not functioning right proper and so I slept till 1 under the warm blankets. Usually in tremblay the heat is up so high you feel tropical. So we saw Prudence and Lola at the campus center and they told us they wanted to move to the crappy side of tremblay and give us their smaller but quieter room. So for five hours, with the help of Jesse and Kate, we moved into Tremblay 108. It's a nice room, the bathroom is nicer, and at night, you can only here the sound of your own breath. No more acid flashbacks from stoners, no more loud obnoxious 80's music coming from Catherine and Julie's room. If I listen closely, I bet I can here the sounds of Colin and Ali have sex, oh excuse me "intercouse." Yep, it's going to be a good semester.
Last night, since Bard is stupid and doesn't have TV for all us kids, we gathered around Porter's alarm radio and listened to the State of the Union address on NPR. There's something really romantic and magical about the radio because it really helps you use your imagination. I pictured our ape of a president shaking his finger about "being deceived by Iraq" and having all these fat white Republicans stand and cheer for war. It was kind of fun. Now if only I could start listening to the radio more, then maybe it could be the new TV. Though all I could listen to would be NPR, and that would kinda suck sometimes.
I found out that Alex's "gun totin' gal" Maggie is going to be at the West Point formal this saturday. So I finally meet the girl that likes to go down on Alex. Let me ask this question: who would actually want to do something like that? Oh I know the "infamous cadet raggio" is going to comment and tell everyone I'm "frigid" and you know what, maybe I am...but I think it's important to be tasteful in discussing sexual matters with people. My friend Sekse's away messages are always chock full of innuendo and it makes me and my best friend Sean really disturbed. You will never see an away message from me that says, "Over at Braden's and we're fucking like rabbits" and I'm not going to boast to Alex or anyone else (unless they ask) about anything sexual ever. I never wanted to know about Alex getting sucked off...12 times for that matter. Some things should be kept to yourself. Although I told everyone about Johnny...but ironically, it was the only time I felt sexually stimulated. Now the story is a bit different. I don't tell every detail...every sordid disgusting detail. I haven't even told my therapist because I'm embarassed.
That's my problem and I'm going to admit it. I have a fear of intimacy. There, I said it. So Alex, laugh away...say "I told you so" and laugh some more. That's fine, you can laugh at my problem...I don't really care.
But I'm going to get that fixed...and stop pretending like I am some sexual goddess.
I'll admit it, I don't have any credentials...I'm a phony professor.
Yesterday was spent mostly in bed...not wanting to move. The heat of the left side of tremblay was not functioning right proper and so I slept till 1 under the warm blankets. Usually in tremblay the heat is up so high you feel tropical. So we saw Prudence and Lola at the campus center and they told us they wanted to move to the crappy side of tremblay and give us their smaller but quieter room. So for five hours, with the help of Jesse and Kate, we moved into Tremblay 108. It's a nice room, the bathroom is nicer, and at night, you can only here the sound of your own breath. No more acid flashbacks from stoners, no more loud obnoxious 80's music coming from Catherine and Julie's room. If I listen closely, I bet I can here the sounds of Colin and Ali have sex, oh excuse me "intercouse." Yep, it's going to be a good semester.
Last night, since Bard is stupid and doesn't have TV for all us kids, we gathered around Porter's alarm radio and listened to the State of the Union address on NPR. There's something really romantic and magical about the radio because it really helps you use your imagination. I pictured our ape of a president shaking his finger about "being deceived by Iraq" and having all these fat white Republicans stand and cheer for war. It was kind of fun. Now if only I could start listening to the radio more, then maybe it could be the new TV. Though all I could listen to would be NPR, and that would kinda suck sometimes.
I found out that Alex's "gun totin' gal" Maggie is going to be at the West Point formal this saturday. So I finally meet the girl that likes to go down on Alex. Let me ask this question: who would actually want to do something like that? Oh I know the "infamous cadet raggio" is going to comment and tell everyone I'm "frigid" and you know what, maybe I am...but I think it's important to be tasteful in discussing sexual matters with people. My friend Sekse's away messages are always chock full of innuendo and it makes me and my best friend Sean really disturbed. You will never see an away message from me that says, "Over at Braden's and we're fucking like rabbits" and I'm not going to boast to Alex or anyone else (unless they ask) about anything sexual ever. I never wanted to know about Alex getting sucked off...12 times for that matter. Some things should be kept to yourself. Although I told everyone about Johnny...but ironically, it was the only time I felt sexually stimulated. Now the story is a bit different. I don't tell every detail...every sordid disgusting detail. I haven't even told my therapist because I'm embarassed.
That's my problem and I'm going to admit it. I have a fear of intimacy. There, I said it. So Alex, laugh away...say "I told you so" and laugh some more. That's fine, you can laugh at my problem...I don't really care.
But I'm going to get that fixed...and stop pretending like I am some sexual goddess.
I'll admit it, I don't have any credentials...I'm a phony professor.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
I look so good!
Today I took Braden for his "updating." I don't expect every boy I date to be up with the times but Braden needed a push in the right direction. And boy did he ever get a push in the right direction. My jaw almost hit the floor when he came out wearing that blue office shirt and those cord pants. That's my boyfriend? He's so attractive! It would seem a very shallow thing to say considering looks aren't everything but there was something sexually stimulating about Braden for the first time in my life...that I wanted to cast everything aside and throw my arms around him and push him into the dressing room. I'm sure he'd be terrified...but usually sexual whims don't happen everyday for me.
But as for everything...I say I had my doubts over break. See, I need passion...passion getting thrown up against a door, leaving with bruises...not S&M shit, that's freaky...but awkward, confused, knocking shit over passion...and I fear to say that Braden and passion do not go together. He might surprise me...dear God I hope he surprises me.
I saw Adaptation with the gang tonight. What a multi faceted movie. I enjoyed it to the fullest...and Streep doing green lines and having sex with a guy with no teeth...I mean that's just genius.
tomorrow is a day of unpacking, blondies...getting back to college...maybe showing Braden the ropes of sexual conduct.
Welcome to Passion 345...I will be your professor Emily Sauter. This class deals with the specifics of passion in context to real advanced sexual skill and tactics. The class will begin slowly with basic footwork and by the end, I expect the student to be at an advanced levels, with lots of hands on demenstrations.
I look forward to working with you...
Today I took Braden for his "updating." I don't expect every boy I date to be up with the times but Braden needed a push in the right direction. And boy did he ever get a push in the right direction. My jaw almost hit the floor when he came out wearing that blue office shirt and those cord pants. That's my boyfriend? He's so attractive! It would seem a very shallow thing to say considering looks aren't everything but there was something sexually stimulating about Braden for the first time in my life...that I wanted to cast everything aside and throw my arms around him and push him into the dressing room. I'm sure he'd be terrified...but usually sexual whims don't happen everyday for me.
But as for everything...I say I had my doubts over break. See, I need passion...passion getting thrown up against a door, leaving with bruises...not S&M shit, that's freaky...but awkward, confused, knocking shit over passion...and I fear to say that Braden and passion do not go together. He might surprise me...dear God I hope he surprises me.
I saw Adaptation with the gang tonight. What a multi faceted movie. I enjoyed it to the fullest...and Streep doing green lines and having sex with a guy with no teeth...I mean that's just genius.
tomorrow is a day of unpacking, blondies...getting back to college...maybe showing Braden the ropes of sexual conduct.
Welcome to Passion 345...I will be your professor Emily Sauter. This class deals with the specifics of passion in context to real advanced sexual skill and tactics. The class will begin slowly with basic footwork and by the end, I expect the student to be at an advanced levels, with lots of hands on demenstrations.
I look forward to working with you...
Friday, January 24, 2003
May I please present Miss Emily Sauter...
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Four days left till Bardland...
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
Sunday, January 19, 2003
Whoring the Camcam for cash
The title is exactly what I did. For 80 bucks, a hot lunch, and a tank of gas...I drove to Ithaca, NY to drop Kendall Gilchrest at Ithaca College. Kendall and I aren't exactly friends because we really don't know each other, but when her brother complained at work...I thought, hey...I need 80 bucks...and I didn't do it just for the money, the drive on rt. 17 up to Ithaca is one of the most breathtaking views of New York State you can get.
Think about it, if i had stayed at home all day...I would have been watching MTV's "real life" like I was yesterday...the pathetic side of myself. I wanted to get out and do something for a change instead of watching good ole TV or staring at the monitor all day hoping for a glimpse of someone to talk to. I got up and did something and Kendall's pretty cool...so I felt like I did good. Though my lower back hurts a lot, but hey, you drive nine hours, you're going to be in pain.
Braden emailed me today with a so-called apology about not talking to me...it was full of excuses but with the signature Braden-esque tart honesty and humor, I was happy he had even thought about me these past days. Going back to Bard in six days is going to be strange, It almost seems like Suite F was a wonderful dream I had one night and when I woke up, I went to work at the pharmacy and ate conversation hearts all day. Jesse is just a voice on the phone like that of Charlie's Angels...Bard College seems like the past and Darien seems like it's always been the present and future. It's really messing up my sense of timing.
So sad really...they do give us too much time around here those Bard people. I need to learn something fast or else I'm going to turn out like those people to TRL...all shallow, pathetic, disturbed, no sense of what is good for them, growing old and being republican...good thing Joe Millionaire is on tomorrow night.
That show is chock full o' nowledge (knowledge spelled wrong because I'm proving that Joe Millionaire is trash for morons, yet I watch...what a great show)
The title is exactly what I did. For 80 bucks, a hot lunch, and a tank of gas...I drove to Ithaca, NY to drop Kendall Gilchrest at Ithaca College. Kendall and I aren't exactly friends because we really don't know each other, but when her brother complained at work...I thought, hey...I need 80 bucks...and I didn't do it just for the money, the drive on rt. 17 up to Ithaca is one of the most breathtaking views of New York State you can get.
Think about it, if i had stayed at home all day...I would have been watching MTV's "real life" like I was yesterday...the pathetic side of myself. I wanted to get out and do something for a change instead of watching good ole TV or staring at the monitor all day hoping for a glimpse of someone to talk to. I got up and did something and Kendall's pretty cool...so I felt like I did good. Though my lower back hurts a lot, but hey, you drive nine hours, you're going to be in pain.
Braden emailed me today with a so-called apology about not talking to me...it was full of excuses but with the signature Braden-esque tart honesty and humor, I was happy he had even thought about me these past days. Going back to Bard in six days is going to be strange, It almost seems like Suite F was a wonderful dream I had one night and when I woke up, I went to work at the pharmacy and ate conversation hearts all day. Jesse is just a voice on the phone like that of Charlie's Angels...Bard College seems like the past and Darien seems like it's always been the present and future. It's really messing up my sense of timing.
So sad really...they do give us too much time around here those Bard people. I need to learn something fast or else I'm going to turn out like those people to TRL...all shallow, pathetic, disturbed, no sense of what is good for them, growing old and being republican...good thing Joe Millionaire is on tomorrow night.
That show is chock full o' nowledge (knowledge spelled wrong because I'm proving that Joe Millionaire is trash for morons, yet I watch...what a great show)
Saturday, January 18, 2003
A little entry to close the day...
Pharmacy work today from 3-8 was hectic but fun. I worked with the cool kids, bet one of the pharmacists I could eat a Classic Triple from Wendys (he doesn't believe I can do it, but for those who have seen it...you know I can) and then a large man came into the pharmacy.
"Sweetie, what kind of cologne do you like?" No one has ever asked me that before...but I immediatly came up with an answer, "Sir, I'm an old spice girl."
Old Spice...take a hint gentlemen (cough Braden cough)...this smell can make any woman melt. There's something empowering about Old Spice, that a real man wears this...Old Spice brings me back to the John "blue couch" days where I would go home and smell like him...it just was a little token from the night that said, "you done good kid."
The large man eventually took a black bottle of Dakkar (or whatever it was) and confided in me that he was meeting his Internet girlfriend for the first time. I wished him the best of luck, he seemed sweet and witty, so I thought he had a chance. Pharmacy work isn't just about telling stupid quilted coated ladies to calm down and that we're not the insurance company but I think it's about helping people do their best. I helped the fat man smell good. Score one for Emily and Grieb's pharmacy and maybe even, score one for the large man.
After he left, the store was quiet. No one but me, lizzie, lizzie's friend who was picking her up, and Sandy the pharmacist. I pulled an Old spice deodorant off the shelf and opened the cap and took a smell. Oh the smell of passion, the smell of unbridled foul play, the smell of a thousand car rides home thinking out loud, "now Emily, what just happened?" I comtemplated bringing the deodorant home with me, but I couldn't. It was a special smell and I think I don't deserve to smell it all the time. Old Spice just reminds me of part of a poem I wrote senior year aptly entitled, "No means No."
You smell the way a man should
A thick musty forest…
A boat gliding through the salty fog…
Lumberjacks with axes in flannel
Cutting down giant redwoods
And sweating profusely
Thinking of their Fried Chicken dinner
*
My shirts reek of what was
And what could have been
And what will never happen
Oh and on another evil note...crite sheets came back. Now I know Mark Lytle hates me, James Chace called my term paper a "disappointment" and Mark Lindeman told me I "tried too hard." Hmmm...and here I was happy with my grades...maybe I should think again. Though on the upside, Liz Frank still loves me. And maybe Pulitzer prize winners have superpowers to make everything bad go away. I bet she does have superpowers. And with her on my side, my moderation board doesn't stand a chance. Super Liz with Pulitzer Power! Up, up and away!
Pharmacy work today from 3-8 was hectic but fun. I worked with the cool kids, bet one of the pharmacists I could eat a Classic Triple from Wendys (he doesn't believe I can do it, but for those who have seen it...you know I can) and then a large man came into the pharmacy.
"Sweetie, what kind of cologne do you like?" No one has ever asked me that before...but I immediatly came up with an answer, "Sir, I'm an old spice girl."
Old Spice...take a hint gentlemen (cough Braden cough)...this smell can make any woman melt. There's something empowering about Old Spice, that a real man wears this...Old Spice brings me back to the John "blue couch" days where I would go home and smell like him...it just was a little token from the night that said, "you done good kid."
The large man eventually took a black bottle of Dakkar (or whatever it was) and confided in me that he was meeting his Internet girlfriend for the first time. I wished him the best of luck, he seemed sweet and witty, so I thought he had a chance. Pharmacy work isn't just about telling stupid quilted coated ladies to calm down and that we're not the insurance company but I think it's about helping people do their best. I helped the fat man smell good. Score one for Emily and Grieb's pharmacy and maybe even, score one for the large man.
After he left, the store was quiet. No one but me, lizzie, lizzie's friend who was picking her up, and Sandy the pharmacist. I pulled an Old spice deodorant off the shelf and opened the cap and took a smell. Oh the smell of passion, the smell of unbridled foul play, the smell of a thousand car rides home thinking out loud, "now Emily, what just happened?" I comtemplated bringing the deodorant home with me, but I couldn't. It was a special smell and I think I don't deserve to smell it all the time. Old Spice just reminds me of part of a poem I wrote senior year aptly entitled, "No means No."
You smell the way a man should
A thick musty forest…
A boat gliding through the salty fog…
Lumberjacks with axes in flannel
Cutting down giant redwoods
And sweating profusely
Thinking of their Fried Chicken dinner
*
My shirts reek of what was
And what could have been
And what will never happen
Oh and on another evil note...crite sheets came back. Now I know Mark Lytle hates me, James Chace called my term paper a "disappointment" and Mark Lindeman told me I "tried too hard." Hmmm...and here I was happy with my grades...maybe I should think again. Though on the upside, Liz Frank still loves me. And maybe Pulitzer prize winners have superpowers to make everything bad go away. I bet she does have superpowers. And with her on my side, my moderation board doesn't stand a chance. Super Liz with Pulitzer Power! Up, up and away!
Friday, January 17, 2003
Ramblings
You see, It's been almost a month since I've seen the woodsy bubble of the Bardland...but back in CT, I've been learning a lot about myself, Darien, and the people around me. This is a demi list of ideas, notions, thoughts that have been going through my head over the month of no learning, just staring...
*Laser tag- if i can think of the only thing to represent the 1990's, it would be laser tag. Man, that game was the shit!
*Lemon Lime gatorade used to be gross, but now I can't get enough...it's just so fake, it's great!
*Vh1 is now my new favorite channel. Does that mean I'm old? And while we're on the subject of TV, I believe "Great Hotels" on the travel channel is the best show alive. Samantha Brown gets to see all these cool hotels, eat great food, and get massages wherever she goes and she's so COOL! Damn, I think I found a new role model. Sorry Michael Moore.
*Costco is so cool because it ruins Mom and Pop stores around America buy selling Americans big stuff for cheap. It's a warehouse of shit piled up and we go for it because we need to save money...I bought Amelie for 9 bucks on DVD! Hell yeah, go Capitalism!
*My cat is showing signs of age...plus he takes up the whole bed. I hate when he does that.
*I've been watching a lot of TV lately and I've noticed that people in America are skinny on television as opposed to real life where they are overweight. This has made me stop eating lunch because of the hyponotic stare of the television. Well, I was watching a documentary on Air Force One...so I was learning. All i had for lunch with a soft pretzel and a diet coke. I even thought about going to the gym (even though I don't belong to one here in CT...I just wanted to go to some gym)...that's not me...I don't "work out!"
*I talked to Alex today and I found out that he really does mean well. He's a sweet boy (though he doesn't want anyone to know that) who has a strong belief structure and we bardians and other such folk are just not used to that hellfire of Republican Middle American values. Alex and I just decided that hey, we're two different people and we're bound to do great things. He even told me I could do great with my writing...I always believed he hated my prose! So kudos Alex...
*I really hate that Dominos Dots commercial. "They're coming!" screams that perfectly American suburban boy...ugg and those stupid dots roll down the hill...how pathetic.
*Letting me loose in a barnes and noble is not good. I want too many books and I don't have the monies. I'm just thinking "birthday...birthday...birthday..."
*Babysitting has lost its paranoia and has gone into the sweet life. Alls i gotta do is drive some kids places, make a quick meal, watch a movie (this week's movie was Babe, a classic!) and huzzah...75 bucks American!
*hanging out with Colin Donegan is still as awkward as I remember...watching full house on the couch at 3 AM was like being a senior in high school again...a time machine back into what I call my "loose days" well not really loose but loose for me. Playing the "time game" (where you watch the clock and then when it changes to the next minute, whoever yells out the time first wins...ohhh yeah, we know how to party) was just as silly as ever and although he's a "nice boy" as my mother would say, he's still got that 25 percent sleaze from high school that still pangs my memory and makes me cringe. Poor boy...
*I haven't spoken to Braden in a good long while...my so-called "boyfriend" is no where to be found and I have a sneaking suspition that he's mad at me, though I don't know why...I adore the boy, i really do but being away from him is making me wonder how it's going to be when we get back to the suite life...
*Talking to Jesse on the phone has been my only joy, I love the kid dearly and being away from him for so long is torture. He's my best friend...what can I say? I set him up with one of my campers (sound dirty? Hardly...the kid's 17 and adorable...even I had the hots for him back in the day...) hopefully they'll hit it off and then we can all turn the suite into a sex den...ohh yeah!
*I have seen knock offs of the Burberry Quilted Coat everywhere...and they don't come cheap. The knock off jacket at "chou chou" (stupid expensive shoes) was 200 bucks. I don't pay more than 200 dollars for anything...that's just the Emily way...well maybe for a car and maybe for a house, whatever the Emily code is stupid. The coat has become a town icon that probably can been seen from space. It's like a plague that's spreading through town. Thanks to the stock market and the empty pocket books of the sauter ladies, we're not infected...
*Last night I had a dream that was at Bard, though there was a building named "raggio" (don't ask, it's just a dream) and I was being trapped by a woman in a tiara and a white dress and by fighting her in this large wooden room with soft white floors, was using Matrix techniques, swinging her around, getting stuck in the air. Death on was on my side and while we fought her, we recited poetry. I got free from her hold and ran down the grand staircase and into the Bard steamroom (it was very beautiful, encased in marble) where about 50 small kids in bathing caps were sitting. An old friend from high school stood up in her towel and started yelling about not being a victim...and everyone cheered. After we went to Raggio, an old office building that had neon lights on it that said the latest bard news and even stock prices. Inside was a mess of dark rooms and art studios. "I wish I could live here" someone said and it was quiet, unlike Tremblay...I agreed with these people and then i woke up...am I healthy?
Okay, that's enough for tonight...i'll add some more in the morning when I think about it while I dream...and while the snow falls here in Darien, I drink my gatorade in the darkness saying:
"Anna Nicole Smith is a moron..."
You see, It's been almost a month since I've seen the woodsy bubble of the Bardland...but back in CT, I've been learning a lot about myself, Darien, and the people around me. This is a demi list of ideas, notions, thoughts that have been going through my head over the month of no learning, just staring...
*Laser tag- if i can think of the only thing to represent the 1990's, it would be laser tag. Man, that game was the shit!
*Lemon Lime gatorade used to be gross, but now I can't get enough...it's just so fake, it's great!
*Vh1 is now my new favorite channel. Does that mean I'm old? And while we're on the subject of TV, I believe "Great Hotels" on the travel channel is the best show alive. Samantha Brown gets to see all these cool hotels, eat great food, and get massages wherever she goes and she's so COOL! Damn, I think I found a new role model. Sorry Michael Moore.
*Costco is so cool because it ruins Mom and Pop stores around America buy selling Americans big stuff for cheap. It's a warehouse of shit piled up and we go for it because we need to save money...I bought Amelie for 9 bucks on DVD! Hell yeah, go Capitalism!
*My cat is showing signs of age...plus he takes up the whole bed. I hate when he does that.
*I've been watching a lot of TV lately and I've noticed that people in America are skinny on television as opposed to real life where they are overweight. This has made me stop eating lunch because of the hyponotic stare of the television. Well, I was watching a documentary on Air Force One...so I was learning. All i had for lunch with a soft pretzel and a diet coke. I even thought about going to the gym (even though I don't belong to one here in CT...I just wanted to go to some gym)...that's not me...I don't "work out!"
*I talked to Alex today and I found out that he really does mean well. He's a sweet boy (though he doesn't want anyone to know that) who has a strong belief structure and we bardians and other such folk are just not used to that hellfire of Republican Middle American values. Alex and I just decided that hey, we're two different people and we're bound to do great things. He even told me I could do great with my writing...I always believed he hated my prose! So kudos Alex...
*I really hate that Dominos Dots commercial. "They're coming!" screams that perfectly American suburban boy...ugg and those stupid dots roll down the hill...how pathetic.
*Letting me loose in a barnes and noble is not good. I want too many books and I don't have the monies. I'm just thinking "birthday...birthday...birthday..."
*Babysitting has lost its paranoia and has gone into the sweet life. Alls i gotta do is drive some kids places, make a quick meal, watch a movie (this week's movie was Babe, a classic!) and huzzah...75 bucks American!
*hanging out with Colin Donegan is still as awkward as I remember...watching full house on the couch at 3 AM was like being a senior in high school again...a time machine back into what I call my "loose days" well not really loose but loose for me. Playing the "time game" (where you watch the clock and then when it changes to the next minute, whoever yells out the time first wins...ohhh yeah, we know how to party) was just as silly as ever and although he's a "nice boy" as my mother would say, he's still got that 25 percent sleaze from high school that still pangs my memory and makes me cringe. Poor boy...
*I haven't spoken to Braden in a good long while...my so-called "boyfriend" is no where to be found and I have a sneaking suspition that he's mad at me, though I don't know why...I adore the boy, i really do but being away from him is making me wonder how it's going to be when we get back to the suite life...
*Talking to Jesse on the phone has been my only joy, I love the kid dearly and being away from him for so long is torture. He's my best friend...what can I say? I set him up with one of my campers (sound dirty? Hardly...the kid's 17 and adorable...even I had the hots for him back in the day...) hopefully they'll hit it off and then we can all turn the suite into a sex den...ohh yeah!
*I have seen knock offs of the Burberry Quilted Coat everywhere...and they don't come cheap. The knock off jacket at "chou chou" (stupid expensive shoes) was 200 bucks. I don't pay more than 200 dollars for anything...that's just the Emily way...well maybe for a car and maybe for a house, whatever the Emily code is stupid. The coat has become a town icon that probably can been seen from space. It's like a plague that's spreading through town. Thanks to the stock market and the empty pocket books of the sauter ladies, we're not infected...
*Last night I had a dream that was at Bard, though there was a building named "raggio" (don't ask, it's just a dream) and I was being trapped by a woman in a tiara and a white dress and by fighting her in this large wooden room with soft white floors, was using Matrix techniques, swinging her around, getting stuck in the air. Death on was on my side and while we fought her, we recited poetry. I got free from her hold and ran down the grand staircase and into the Bard steamroom (it was very beautiful, encased in marble) where about 50 small kids in bathing caps were sitting. An old friend from high school stood up in her towel and started yelling about not being a victim...and everyone cheered. After we went to Raggio, an old office building that had neon lights on it that said the latest bard news and even stock prices. Inside was a mess of dark rooms and art studios. "I wish I could live here" someone said and it was quiet, unlike Tremblay...I agreed with these people and then i woke up...am I healthy?
Okay, that's enough for tonight...i'll add some more in the morning when I think about it while I dream...and while the snow falls here in Darien, I drink my gatorade in the darkness saying:
"Anna Nicole Smith is a moron..."
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