Instead of bitching...I will talk about my night in a calm rational manner....

But how can I when nothing happened? I looked good tonight but nothing...Do you have any idea how lonely I am? It's painful!! I've finally gotten over that idea that every guy is going to turn out like Johnny Garrison...but when I step out, there's no one!

I wrote John a letter a week ago and told him i felt used and to email me if he ever wanted to talk to me. Of course he never emailed me...which means another friend gone...how depressing...the shit keeps hitting the fan.

I'm not bitching! I'm telling it like it is. My self esteem is not existant...counseling will do me good. Ever feel like everyone looks at you because you're too immature and stupid to realize that the world hates you?
Shut up Emily, no one needs to hear this...

I'm going to bed...If Bard ends up being like this forever, Lord knows what's going to happen to me...

So I had this dream...

Okay, There's a crowd of people surrounding the president and an Arab tied up with a blindfold...i dont know if he was a suspected terrorist or anything...but the president yells, "To make an example for anyone else trying to ruin the American way of life." He takes out a Colt pistol and shoots the guy right in the chest! I was like, holy shit!
Then I had another dream of my love life to come. I was in a red dress in the 20s, ready for all these gentlemen callers to appear and they do appear and they're all cute but do you know who I ended up with? The talking dog!! So yes, I am scared...
Of course this party was in Indiana...Anna, Indiana...does that place even exist????

I should stop dreaming...

As I pop two tic tacs...it's six o'clock...I just bought 50 dollars worth of shit on Amazon...Clerks DVD, Animated clerks DVD, Nickel and Dimed and This book about travelling around getting American food...Liz Frank told me I should get them. I love Liz Frank, you know why? Because I go into her office and she makes me feel like a million bucks..."Oh you're so motivated...blah blah I love your drive, you're such a good student..." It just makes me feel good about myself. I handed in my shitty ass Huck Finn paper and I should be reading right now but I can't concentrate. There's oemthing that's holding me back for no reason...I dont get it.
What am I going to do tonight? I dont know...try to concentrate on reading "Debating Democracy" barf...

I want to know where the hell everyone is? No one is online, the dinner hour is upon us...and I have a hankerin' for some Campus Centre (good british spelling) but alas, I shall stay here till the phone ringeth...maybe concentrate on getting my Political reading or I should clean my room...considerin the woman and grandma and neighbor are comin...

oh well...hopefully everything will turn out okay...i have my first counseling appointment Monday...yay therapy!

It's been a while...

Today I joined the Bard Observer...now I am a journalist and their new cartoonist! My cartoon stars my favorite girl Annie Viller and a newbie to the Emily imagination station...Thatcher Prince in their "Adventures in Bardland"

"she's not the smartest, the prettiest, the dirtiest...she's just here at Bard, to get an education, instead she got an adventure...and a gay best friend"
Annie Viller's getting a survival lesson into a Bardian's life...with a gay dance major as her guide, she's discovering that in a land run by a vicious intellectual, and hated by the evil Hippie, life ain't what mama told her..."

Adventures in Bardland- It's a whole other country...

I also have to write an article about how Dave Shein is trying to get rid of our beloved Drag Race...I have to interview him Friday...and write an interview all day saturday...it's going to be great!
well, i've been cartoonin all night...I'm going to go, ummm...read walden! yeah, that's is...walden...
Bardland- Leon owns you

So it's settled...
I'm writing a book...the title is unknown...it's a non fiction memoirist adventure into America and regionalism. I'm going across America to study the behavior of individuals...
It's hard to describe what I want to write about it...because I'm confused as to what exactly it's about...regionalism is what I say, but who knows. But that's it...I'm writing a book. It makes me feel good that I'm actually writing something, a book...to discover America...to find out why we function in this world of chaos?

I went to Philly to visit Sean...we did nothing...and it was awesome...his roomy really is an asshole though. I feel bad for Sean.

My drive back to CT was filled with Americana memories...long lines in women's bathrooms, a Nathan's hotdog, a guy that pumped my gas was overly excited about his job...

It made me jealous for one moment

I have met the man of my dreams....

He is a waiter in a restaurant that is attached to a nightclub. Their menu is vast and hard to understand. I didn't know what to order so he sat next to me...He had glasses and puffy blonde hair, his voice was soothing. He told me his name was Peter. He told me not to order certain things, while on the other hand...I still couldn't understand the menu. All my friends were telling me to hurry up.
"That's okay." I said, "I'm not hungry."
"Oh come on..." Peter told me, looking into my eyes..."You have to eat something...you didn't come to a restaurant not to eat."
My God was his the most beautiful thing I have ever seen....I stood and looked at him. "How old are you?"
"21" he told me. It seems that all my friends had dissappeared and this all made sense.
"I don't know...I just have some feeling about you..." And he leaned and kissed me! Oh joy of joys, oh rapture!
He met my mother the next day, we drove in his old Ford Explorer, it was red. My mother seemed so happy. Finally a man in the household to be happy about...no more republicans, manwhores, or intellectuals...
We were off to get beer, Heineken keg cans...my mother told me that was okay and when we got back, we lay on the couch and drank, we were so happy.

And then I woke up...alone in a dorm full of hippies, sadnened by my loss of the perfect waiter.

A Point (finally):

There is never, and there never will...the final coup de grace of my life. When I raise my hand to speak in class, I know that what comes out of my is not what I reflect. I am merely a poor player in Leon Botstein's sick game of life.
I fell asleep today at 7:15 PM in a world of American paranoia. I dreamt of Walden and the safety of Thoreau, of flying through Copland's musical landscapes. I woke up in the coughing splutter, eyes full of tears, mouth full of allergic reaction. But none the less I felt safe. Safety is something we Americans covet as a treasure now, am i right?

Maybe there is a point...
Maybe I am here at Bard as an experiment...they're watching me through the light fixture. Leon with his mansion on the hill...peering down at Tremblay, "Now What do we have here?" I'm here as the joke...the stupid student joke, except then why not put light fixtures in all the stoner dorms...line the hallways of Tewks with real cameras...no, that's artificial stupidity.
So here I am Leon...do your worst.
Being stuck in a room with only books as your friends...can do a lot to you mentally