I have realized that I haven't spoken about West Point yet...
But there really isn't anything to say but I was pretty scared to the point of wanting to throw up over McCarthur's statue. But I maintained calm and sat quietly while in the midst of thousands of trained killers. Alex apparently hid in his room while I was there. I thought that was pretty stupid. Why hide from something that doesn't give a shit anymore like me!?
I told Diana and she told me he had "lost something and is acting strange." Then she told me that not talking to him was a stupid thing but everyone was acting stupid...she was so mad she just told me she couldn't deal with it anymore and signed off. I respect Diana so very much...I hate to see her mad at me, but I can't talk to Alex. How can I talk to someone who makes me feel like shit all the time!
I'm watching the Ice Storm tonight with Jesse because I finished my paper faster than expected and got most of my work done from the week. Hopefully, I give it a month, I will be eating with Porter at Le Cunard and being happy.
because making an effot is important in society

Sits up in bed and then lies back down, "What did I do last night???"

Yes, I actually said that, for the first time in my short life. I remember the night like any other night...me and the kids that live in Jesse's suite...lots of vodka and other such alcohol...sitting around, drink...make another drink...drink more. 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...
But in a drunken stupor I managed to stumble out my secret crush's name...and everyone was shocked. My secret crush (God, what am I...13? "My Secret Crush"...it's not like he's 12 too...he's 21!) But anyway...I told and so I think, I can't remember...I think they told him. I remember being sad and having them all say, "But Emily, you're hot!" and they lean over to my secret crush and say, "Hey, isn't she hot?" and he says, "Yes she is..." But the thing is, if someone is sad they're not going to say, "No you're not hot you piece of shit..." so I take it for what it's worth I guess...
So when everyone was done being blantantly sexual, we all either started to throw up or we went to bed. My secret crush and company told me i shouldn't drive home and the weather was bad, so I slept there in the suite in a single, a nice warm bed with no stoners around! My secret crush before I went to bed looked at me and said, "You should come hang out with us more often..."
Apparently he's making an effot...so they say...so maybe this dry spell will end soon and Porter and I can finally eat at that awesome French restaurant we made as our goal for hooking up with someone.

Hi! This is Jeremy. I don't have a blog, so all this might not make sense or something. Nevermind. To Trefor - I agree with you that much of Emily's blog is sad. However, her blog is not only sad, but funny, emotional, crazy, intense, awesome, full of Bardy goodness, and well, lets just say its full of pure fun! It has all the elements of a long running television sitcom - good parts, bad parts, and a soon to be 'final' episode that will surely draw as many excited fans as it will exacberated critics.

Anyway, the following is an exerpt from my friend's blog:

MY WORLD! - EVERYONE'S BLOG

Well, today I got up and me had a good time with myself. Me me me. Then I went to MY class where I talked to MYSELF with MY teacher who is ME. It was a good day for ME.

-----------------------------------

That was an exerpt from my friend's blog - she so crazy.

So, Emily is drinking with the Computerly talented people that Jesse lives with. Its a party! We just saw "Bowling for Columbine" the new Michael Moore documentary, it was full of 'goody goodness' to quote one viewer. The New York Times say it is "Better than Emily's cartoons" and the Washington Post claim it is "Like a class with James Romm as a teacher - BUT NO BOTSTEIN!" Well, despite their interesting (and unique) praise for the film, it was a very amazing film.

So, it seems that Jesse has just made Emily "sort of a... a... fuzzy navel" which, if I remember correctly (I was barred from being a bar tender - is that the correct terminology - is that how to spell terminology?) is peach schnappes with a hint of love and a gallon of friendship. Ok, I'm done for now - hopefully this entry encouraged you to continue reading Emily's World... at least for a little while - c'mon we're gonna have to find out who that crush is eventually! I'm casting my vote for Robert Kelly.

A poem by Robert Kelly

Is it thinking?
Or am I dating Emily?

Ok, thats all.
Jeremy

The thing about today is that I realized something...about how my guy radar works...
and now i have a secret crush...but if i tell anyone at Bard they'll make fun of me. But he's just adorable and cute and funny...

Trefor today told me my blog was sad...but it's not crying, the writer is just lonely...so Trefor, while your opinion is valid, why do you read my blog if you're just going to rub it in my face that you're so much more in control of your life than me? I know you are...so the best thing to remedy this is for you to just stop reading...and then you can make fun of someone else and let me have my own opinions.

I'm listening to my music really loud...the stoners are having a party next door...so to combat the pot smell, I'm blasting the olympic team...

"Dude, is the torch passing by or something????"

To give you the extent of my writer's block...here's what I used to be able to accomplish

"I always thought the time would come where I would be faced with a situation that I couldn’t solve and the world would turn around and laugh at me. I never knew how soon that was until now.
I am not being scoffed at, only admired to a point, which is unsure.
No one is around to be weary of me…I am like the world unto itself
Talking is a special…or not so special talent I possess. It seems to me a shamble for me to waste my time when all I know is how my nose hurts and how I am in love with a man I hardly know.
Look at me, I’m not the fat girl in the corner now but mature, able to handle everything but my own imagination, which needs a lasso.
A tall confusion stands in front of me and I can’t do anything about it but get rid of the dark and quiet mystery.
I love you, I really do but what I have now is a man who could treat me like I was actually something and not nothing. Quoting Freud used to be a turn on, but now it’s a useless chore."

It doesn't make sense, but look at the wording, the metaphor! I can't do shit now...
The best phrase I have ever found in my writing was from two years ago:
"I don't cry over spilled words."

The Music Video

I started to walk home from orchestra at 10 PM...the music is Radiohead's "Paranoid Android" and the leaves are falling all around me...the temp. is about 50 degrees, I'm wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt and jeans (I look like Eminem...ohhh yeah, that's what I aspire to) and the outside lights are shining this foggy light...and then once that song is over Indigo girls' "Ghost" comes on...I look up at the sky and stop...and there's one star up in the sky...and then I realized I was in the twilight zone...
I felt like I was in a music video, one of those bitchy country singers walking in the dark singing to no one, staring up at the sky to look for inspiration...

It made me feel pretty pathetic...so I ran home, put on Ravel's string quartet and sank back to stare at the curtains my mom made for the room...so if you're ever at Tremblay here at the fabulous Bard college (we have a swingset here at college...we need a slide too, show other colleges that bard really is a place to "think") come over to Tremblay (mind the stoner shit everywhere...fucking losers are glueing barbie dolls to the walls, something Im going to have to pay for) and hang out for awhile...and keep me company while i walk so I don't think I'm in a music video anymore

So I know you loyal bloggers are all dying to know what happened with Konstantin...and so I'll tell you...
Let's go back for a moment and remember Alexander H. Raggio...the unyielding Republican values, the rediculous outbursts of random NRA bullshit...the threats, the intelligence that was wasted on stupid ideals and Pro American morals...all wrapped up inside a man trained by our government through MY tax dollars to kill.
And what does this have to do with Konstantin? Well...let's see, how about THEY ARE THE SAME FUCKING PERSON! Only of course turn Alex into a nerdish bookworm with a long bilingual vocabulary and socialist, far left Bardian ideals...and Konstantin can't kill (unless of course you know, they're polluting the atmosphere by driving their white SUVs through the Republican Darien Elitist CEO filled valleys of smut and deceit blah blah blah)
I'm sad you know? Because I actually had faith that this guy would understand my American quest, but he's as blind as Alex! Moderates are the only people that get American society because they examine every possible angle! We don't scream and shit our pants when someone gets bombed...and we don't freak out when some asshole Democrat brings up disarming Automatic weapons (ohh no GUN CONTROL AHHHH) That's what sucks about America, Bard, the world...people don't sit back and enjoy the ride, they have to criticize every fucking thing..."Look its a Gucci store, those capitalist pigs" or "Cut the defense budget??? You fucking hippies"
You know what? Why can't we all just get along!
I'm going to bed...I need to fall in love with non partisans