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?