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!

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...

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??

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...

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.

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.

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...