This is my story, "Hide and Seek" for those who want to read it...
I wasn’t afraid of the game itself. What I was afraid of was the anxiety of hiding under the bed, waiting…alone with your thoughts…nothing to do, but wait. Oh what a horrible feeling that was.
I hid in the closet of my pastor when I was nine one April afternoon. I pulled a roll of ugly pink carpet around me, curled up in a little ball, and waited. I let my childhood drift before my eyes…A slow batch of houses with faceless owners, people my parents knew but to me, they didn’t have faces anymore, just soft voices, poets, cars, and 1970’s style kitchens.
These people, whom my parents entrusted me and my little sister to, were now just strangers. This idea made me more anxious. There I waited, in the pitch black of the closet, lying on the winged tip shoes of my Presbyterian pastor. All sense of time escaped me. Minutes had turned into hours and seconds into minutes. My nine-year-old mind had finally grasped the face of the first stranger. Her hair was long and auburn and her face was melting together in my mind to form the face of a worn and tired liberal. I had remembered their son would try to beat me up, while I had tried to pick up their cat. Their cat’s name was “cat” and even that name to my nine-year-old brain seemed so stupid. My cat’s name was Spoo. Now that was originality!
My parents had dragged my sister and I to the tired liberal’s house…off the Merritt Parkway. The drive always seemed so long and dark on the Merritt parkway and moon was always full and large while we drove in the red BMW. The house was always filled with adults but no toys or kids…. just their son, who to me seemed so mature and scary to me. I always remembered that he was handsome, even at the age he was and the age I was. He seemed to have a grasp on what was going on while my sister and I knew practically nothing. We had, in fact, been on this Earth for a few short years, so maybe it made sense. We didn’t know how to play pool, much for the fact that the pool table was far too big. We didn’t know how to turn the TV on, and while our parents indulged in their macrobiotic feast of fish and seaweed, our stomachs yearned for hamburgers and colas.
It might have been in hour in the dark. I remembered the little league practice today with the boys and shrugged off the memory. They had put me in Triple A, the worst league for little league. If I knew the word bastard, I would have called the entire Darien little league association all bastards. Just because I was a little girl, I couldn’t play with the big boys. The bruise on my arm from the fly ball started to hurt.
The memory of Popsicle twister pops and pancakes and a green minivan had suddenly been remembered. That family lived off the Merritt too but in the other direction from the worn and tired macrobiotic liberal. I always missed my parents so much when they dropped us off their but this house fed us so well. No macrobiotic seaweed…they had Skippy peanut butter. Skippy peanut butter was gold to me as a child.
The door to the closet was suddenly opened and there was the pastor’s son and my little sister, standing before me. I closed my eyes and held my breath. Surely, I was noticeable. But they had not seen me and just closed the closet and I was left in the dark again. How long was this going to take? The anxiety was getting to me now. I was hungry enough to eat one of my pastor’s shoes. They would never find me now. No one ever checks the same spot twice until they’re an idiot.
My mind began to drift again to the family with Pro-RC-AM racing, my favorite Nintendo game. We slept on a fold out couch and the oldest son had given me fuzzy dice because I loved them so much. Fuzzy dice to me meant the ultimate maturity and cool. Sitting on that fold out couch in their dark and scary house, staring at the TV…Nintendo music and computer noises blaring. I had two boys yelling at me to press A.
This was the 1980’s.
We didn’t have Nintendo till I was seven, when my father, in his last dying days, went out with us to Walden Computer on the Post Road and purchased his two daughters a Nintendo system and our first game, Super Mario Brothers 3. In Super Mario Brothers 3, you could make Mario turn into a raccoon using a special leaf and he could fly. The plot was ludicrous with the pirate ships with mini cannons, flying raccoons, and weird lands of ice and turtles. I wasted away my childhood with that precious box but when my father laid down his American Express for Super Mario Brothers 3, a purchase of sixty dollars for his two daughters that he would never live to see grow up; money was all he had to make us smile.
Through the cracks in the door, the sun was setting. The voices in the old Victorian house had ceased and the only sound now was my breath on the carpet. They must have stopped searching. I closed my eyes and positioned myself for a nap. Sleep grabbed hold on me and there I was, asleep with my face in my pastor’s dress shoe.
I dreamt of the dark of the closet, dark now and nothing else. The faceless strangers were standing in their driveways waving as my family drove away from them in the red BMW. Red, because my father let me pick the color and I wanted Red because it was my favorite color at the time. I always sighed a great relieve to be back in the arms of the family car and my parents…back to the house with the bridge and the brook running through the yard…where everything was normal, nothing had changed, and the anxious feelings would subside.
The closet door finally opened again to the Pastor himself and his wife. I opened my eyes to the bright of the lamp on their nightstand.
“Oh Emily, here you are! It’s so good to see you, we didn’t know where you were!”
The windows outside were filled with twilight. Had I been in this closet all day? I didn’t ask questions and stumbled to my feet.
As I picked at my lasagna the Pastor’s wife had made, I could only picture the strangers with their Nintendo games, Computer screens, and pool tables; all of them memories by material possessions and not by real human characteristics.
I put my milk glass down slowly on the table.
“When’s my mom coming back?”

So while Ross, me and Nathalie all lay in bed together (it was kinda nice actually...not sexual at all, just friends getting together and being friends) I was feeling kinda lonely for some reason and it was nice to have them all in my bed with me hugging me while i slept. All i night I had dreams about Bard being like as big as a State U. and everything was crazy...there were thunderstorms, people gave me their driver's licenses (dont ask me why) and i dreamt of trains, swimming, tornados (ive been dreaming about tornados almost every night) and a muttering transsexual that owned a diner and Fred Flinstone was really attracted to him/her...
Maybe it's college that has made me go crazy...but I doubt it. I have always been this weird...and college has told me to bring it out more...
So I have all these papers to write and I have almost eight pages of my Don McLean paper done and its due in six days. I haven't started my Tolstoy paper and that's due tuesday and as for philosophy...did somebody say "too many papers?" but I am not going to start that paper until Wednesday when everything is done, done, and also done.
It's true, I do miss the good ole fashion seduction...but I keep telling myself that i'll be in Maine soon and maybe some counselor will take pity on you...that would be just what i need. To stop dwelling on the past and to move forward...to think logically (sure you liked Blake a lot but when are you ever going to see him again???) or (Johnny Garrison is a motherfucker and waiting for a letter is stupid)
I wrote this great story about hide and go seek...it's actually a true story about how i hid in my pastor's shoe closet while playing hide and go seek with his son and they never found me until five hours later. It goes into this whole thinking of how Hide and Go Seek always scared the crap out of me because you were alone with your thoughts and all you could do was lie there and think about your life and what was going on with it. If i find a spare break...i'll type it (its in my journal, my real journal) and post it.
Maybe this sunday when i go to West Point, everything will be okay...but who knows..with all this work I should be doin i shouldn't go at all...oh well...i need a day to relax (if you can relax at West Point) and today isnt going to be one of them...i promised myself nine pages of my paper and to start the Kruetzer Sonata paper (which shouldn't be hard, that story was awesome) and to read some Rawls (ohhh man I hate everything about THAT guy)
Note to all: Double Delight Oreos (peanut butter and chocolate cream) are...orgasmic!

The busy day comes to a close...and I should be writing my paper(s) and other such random bullshit I've had to deal with. I'm really emotionally drained from the anxiousness of room draw. Me and Porter are living in Tremblay 102 and we have the best room ever. It's so cool, we love it so much! I'm so happy! It's the only good thing about the day. Everything about the week is good and bad.
GOOD
McBee and Jeff (Fencing Jeff) gave me an autographed picture of them drunk..it was awesome
BAD
Stupid so many papers
GOOD
Tremblay 102, 'nuff said
BAD
Ariel and Nathalie acting strange...but that usually happens...AND leaving my mom's day gift in boston!

Right now, we're looking to make some "Porn on the Cob" things...which is good...but I'm putting off this fucking paper...
I'm stressed and I want to beat myself...
If anything has some calming ideas...PLEASE TELL ME! I'm tense, confused, and upset... =(
I need some good ole fashion seduction!
Man I love this- "Nuff Said!"

What a shitty weekend!

I am emotionally drained, psyically injured, and stressed to no end by our supposed "boston" trip. And Johnny Garrison still hasn't written back...oh well...it's Emily's cursed luck.
So This weekend is too upsetting to discuss in full so I'll give you a gist of a story of a tale of a lecture.
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.
I didn't get to see Blake this weekend and he was my primary reason to visit...so it was pointless to really go to Boston. =(
We lost Nathalie in Boston and we didn't know what was happening. I ended up reading "Akira" in the subway station...worried as shit...but we found her and we all had a good cry.
"What a crappy weekend!" We all said in unison, our eyes full of tears, in pain, and upset for the weekend...
While back at Bard
Jesse was getting it on all night!
My friend got into a car accident and has to have brain and heart surgery (that's the only bad thing that happened at Bard)
Spring Fling was under way and apparently awesome!
People jumped in moon bounces and inflatable full and i couldn't jump with my concussion!
I miss everything!!!!!!
So yes, Isaac, you are correct in saying that bad things naturally happen to me.
And NOW I HAVE WORK TO DO!
someone...PLEASE...make this nightmare go away...

A Good Mornin' to ya!
I'm up ever so early this morning because in 35 minutes we are off to boston! YAY! I'm ready for the craziest weekend this side of the Mississippi.
Okay, i dont expect Boston to be that great...i mean, I wanted to see Blake and all but you know now that he has other "plans" or something i dont know...I mean, I'll still see him but it wont be in the context that I really want. Oh well....Like Isaac said, "Usually bad things naturally happen to me."
I had a dream about Family Matters. You know those 2 minute montage comedy sketchs that are before the opening song and they usually have nothing to do with the show at all? It's like Carl sitting at the table and then Harriet says something and then they fight...urkle comes in, "HEY BIG GUY!" and they all laugh, everything is forgotten? and the theme music comes on with that sweeping shot of Chicago? Okay, I had a dream all in little 2 minute montages...over and over just family matters bullshit over and over...I kinda admit that they were pretty funny (one of them guest starred Puck from Real World San Fran, why...I have no clue) but it was pretty cool. But now it's 830 in the morning and I haven't up this early since like January or for like, fencing...
Last Night Ross took us to the Eveready in Hyde Park for our free meal he bought with government money as a present. We talked about Homestar Runner...A LOT! www.homestarrunner.com....oh man, Go...it's the shit. and we talked about making our own comedy troupe. Dave 1's friend goes to Worchester Polytechnic Institute adn they make all these comedy internet sketches...and so I thought, "Hey, Bard kids are naturally more funny than these computer nerds at WPI...we could totally kick their asses..." So next year, we're startin' an internet troupe called "Porn on the Cob" and we're going to kick WPI's nerdy computer lovin' butt... =) I say, this is war...
But anyway, It's time for me to go to pack up for Boston...We leave in 30 minutes! =)
Have great weekends y'all...

Ever have a strange dream where nothing makes sense at all? I tell you something...last night's dream was so confusing...like little vignettes in this whole symbolic puzzle. The first dream was about this giant tornado that hit Robbins and all the windows broke and me and these two upperclassman were holding onto this tree while the Tornado came. The second vignette was lying in bed with...Colin (Bard kids...i like Colin and all, but no sex will be exchanged between me and him) in his hotel room. Even in my dreams i don't want to have sex with him! So this one was the most pronounced in my head: i was dropping my friend James off at the Naval Academy and all these guys were in this large hall in uniform doing drills. My mom was waiting in the family car to check in James. Then, I saw Jeremy and Dave 1 and they were fighting in the balcony...I went up to talk to them but they were too busy kicking the shit out of these midshipmen...it was weird. And then the walls came down and crushed all the new recruits and dave fell on top of the walls and started to thow up all over the place...I went outside as quickly as I could to my mother who was next in line. An old man asked her to "check her weapons" and my mom handed him a shotgun and a handgun! I was like, what the hell...and the old man told her she could park near the arts building...bullshit the Naval Academy has an arts building...But instead of parking she drove away and I ended up standing in the snow with all these midshipman and a woman telling us when our next meeting was. I was taking classes with the Naval Academy? There was a raccoon sitting on my car and we were next to a rundown train station. We were all quiet until it left and the woman turned to me and said...."Take 213 all the way home...and we will see you on tuesday."
I woke up to the song of my roomy's really loud phone ringing...stupid loud phone...and then my phone rang and it was Ross and he asked me a dumb question and now I'm cranky as all shit.
Oh well...it wasn't as bad as the news I got yesterday... =(
And the weather outside just proves how crappy my day is going to be. I'm locked in this room until i promised myself a paper of three pages in length for my final project on that jerk Don McLean and his so called "American Pie."
I am growing up too fast. I need to be ignorant a few more decades.

Yeah so right now I'm drugged on Benadryl, birth control, and allegra. It's super sweet. I'm just countin' down the seconds till I'm passed out on the floor with my limbs flailin' wildly and such. Should be interesting. Maybe Nathalie will take photos. That would be kinda cool. Right now Nathalie is translating Simpsons' quotes online into different languages and then putting them back into English...some of them are funny. "Mom, I feel kinda funny about wearing white, you know...Milhouse." and that quote came out in English as something to do with a "port space bar." What the hell?
They need an extra guy for being a camp counselor at NEMC and I hope Jeff gets the job. Spending the whole summer with him would be awesome!
Oh man, the medication is really hittin' me. I'm loving every minute of it.
So people are talking about my short story (see below) and they say it's really good and full of pain. So if you want to cry or look into my pathetic life, take a read.
Johnny still hasn't written me. Oh well...I'm starting to care less and less about that fuckin' asshole. =(
Peter Sourian told me not to be a purple alligator in class today...I'm still confused. I think it was about Indiana but I didn't see any alligators in Indiana...only pick up trucks, caddyshack, hicks, liquor, bathroom ceilings and wal mart after wal mart after fucking wal mart.
Whoa, maybe I should go to bed, everything is growing dark.
Farewell my sober (well maybe you aren't sober) loves of my life!