No more classes! YAY!

Yesterday Braden surprised me by handing me a picture of himself saying, "Remember, you're awesome." It was in response to my Christmas present to him of a picture of me looking cross saying, "Remember you're 22." I put it in the back of my journal so I can stare at it during intersession like a fool. Yesterday all the Suite F folk saw "The Two Towers" all dressed in their garb (I loved the fact they went in costume to the movies...it was cute...very cute...almost absurdly cute) and apparently as Kelly said it was "All kinds of awesomeness." I haven't seen the first one yet so I didn't think I should go see the 2nd one and then see the first one, that wouldn't work. It's like right now I'm reading The Sportswriter by Richard Ford. I read Independece Day, the Pulitzer winning sequel first and now am finding myself wishing I had read Sportswriter first, but Independence Day was just an amazing book, I think I read it in about 4 days I believe. So now I am telling myself, do things in order...do not skip steps.
Tomorrow I go home, back to Connecticut where I shall remain for the next six weeks. I will still be typing away in my blog...weeping for some Bardians to talk to me and tell me that soon we can all go back to Bard and I won't have to work at the Pharmacy anymore.
For all of you who care...I'm mostly better from my bout of a nasty sinus infection (lousy shitty dorm). It helped that I drugged myself full of the NyQuil and slept for 12 hours straight. My government professor was upset at me because I wasn't doing research for my partial birth abortion paper, but no bother. I have till Xmas Eve to finish that beauty.
Well all of you kids...Emily is leaving the Bardland tomorrow at noon...
it's been a good semester...
Next time you'll hear from me, I'll be watching the History Channel with a tub of ice cream and my cat Spoo sitting by my side...

So editing my paper last night has made me sick...
I don't understand why I keep getting ill here...maybe because the dorm is a sack of shit, I don't know. But nonetheless, I feel utterly worthless. I kept having dreams of editing and I sat up and bed right quick and screamed, "No!" and Porter wakes up and looks at me and says, "Are you okay?" My dreams from when I'm sick are the worst. They always seem to make me feel like I'm dying. I remember being sick on Christmas once and my dreams were all about having a nice Christmas dinner, with close ups on the turkey and mashed potatoes and everything looked so green and beautiful. I woke up crying for whoever it was to stop torturing me. Last night was no exception...I was tortured and all I could see was stacks of papers that needed to be edited.

Today is a long day and I'm sick. If you read this, come visit me and comfort me while I waste away in Tremblay 102...I should be here from 3 o'clock onward.
Glad everyone is healthy....except me.

It's snowing out today and I lay in bed and watching "Bridget Jones' Diary" and fretted about my sexual well being.

Last night I made a call to John Francis O'Leary, my ex boyfriend who would like to bathe in money and womanize while drinking Grand Marnier (because it doesn't burn like cognaq does) and driving by himself on the Saw Mill Parkway remembering when he was a freshman, me and him had a fight while I drove him back from seeing Tom Stoppard's "Arcadia" with Anthony and my soon to be boyfriend Joshua Brinn (who was deathly afraid of being cheated on...and he was a year older than me but he acted like he was a 30 year old man...just the way John does now...John is taking me to Paris one of these days and then he becomes the womanizer he dreams about...Lord only knows where I will be when this happens, probably poor and pulling out my hair) But I told John the whole Braden (John calls him "The 12 year old with the strange name) and I told John how it struck me as odd the way Braden is just like when John was quote "A little kid" when we started to bring on the good old blue couch days. It was really four years ago, and he was fourteen and I was seventeen. But John practically demanded that this 12 year old with the strange name seemed like a guy who needed the "Sauter Experience" pretty badly. But there's something about John that's very enticing. Maybe it's because he's so hard to read. He carries himself with this sexual air that makes me because I'm a woman, melt with glee. But of course, I always get the feeling that John does not really care about me that much. Maybe I should throw away this notion, but it seems that if he emailed me and that he blames himself for our relationship failure (well it's my fault too, seeing that I am now at college and it's hard for him to just go to Annandale) But I dont know, we're going to see each other this Friday night. His parents are going to the office Christmas party...so I am worried that maybe I'm making the wrong choice.
But I realized something after watching "Bridget Jones' Diary" John is like Hugh Grant...all studly and cute and sexually smart and everything he does is just so right...but he needs that from every girl. Braden is like Colin Firth (well...not really but kind of) with the wrong things to say at the wrong time...and the awkwardness but still...there's something so good about him that you feel relieved that he's there with you.
So...what will it be Emily? Sex in John's bed with the Ansel Adams pictures on the wall and all the perverted talk? Or a man who is desperate need of some form of revelation and awakening but you're too scared to give it to him because you're afraid you're going to turn him into someone that you don't need right now.
As Garrison Holmes says in Operation Tactful Evolution:
"I'm as confused as you are"

It took us two hours to finish what we started...

We lay in bed, my head sitting my lap...and I was shaking...I hadn't shaken like that Blake in the field in April.
We wanted to go for it...we just wanted to throw caution to the wind, to ravage ourselves with the pent up passion from months and years of sexual inactivity. But there was prison glass between us, invisible force fields that were holding us apart.
So I did what i usually do in cases like this...talk about past sexual conquests. I told him about Ned Breen and his "irrational hypothesis" to Johnny Garrison's gold pick up and leather jacket. I told him about hooking up with John on the infamous "blue couch" (I regard the blue couch days as one of the best memories of high school...too bad we've graduated to the "big bed") and while we were watching Cops and John is on top of me, all I can hear ringing through my head was the cop yelling, "Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" And there he was, staring at me with his icy blue eyes, hanging on my every word.
After two hours of just talking...I got up to leave and put on my shoes. We just looked at each other, the awkardness is pretty painful for us...all of a sudden he shrugged and kissed me. And it wasn't a bad kiss either...it was one of those ones that makes you smile. But we've decided that I have to sort things out at home before I become Braden's girlfriend and plus, he'll be in Seattle working on animation while I'm in CT working at the pharmacy, and with five days left...I dont think there's much we can do to jump start a relationship...

But you heard it here first boys and girls: Braden Daniel Lamb and Emily Steele Sauter...we took the plunge into the real world.
Looks like I won the bet Porter Hovey...so let's go to the French restaurant...

Ethan told me to be more "cinematic..."

So I guess everyone out there in the world wants to know what happened last night with Braden. Well, I'll tell you...but the story is pretty meladramatic, so brace youselves for it okay?

So I got pretty drunk and so did Braden...because everyone was banking on the alcohol to get us "together"
We were sitting on his bed and I started ranting about how i had put him in my cartoon and how he can't "explain his feelings" and whatnot. And he just looked at me and told me, "About that...I don't want to sound like a jerk and I like you and all...BUT" yeah, that awful BUT was in there...so I told him I understood (which I didn't) and I just looked into his childlike eyes and told him it was okay, but I also warned that maybe he should think about growing up. The minute I closed the door, my eyes filled up with tears. I went into the other suite to grab my coat. Everyone was waiting for me, "So how did it go?"
"Oh about that...well I got rejected so I think this party has ended for me." I grabbed my coat, still roaring drunk...and ran out the door into the pouring rain with no umbrella. I muttered all the way back to Tremblay like an old man, the blisters on my feet were starting to form and I could feel the blood seep into my shoes...they still hurt so much as I write this. I got back to Tremblay and Porter held me while I cried soaked with rainwater. I hated this...why did he have to string me along? Why did everything have to happen this way? I deserved more dignity than this, subjected to waiting all this ime for a 22 year old to grow up. I called Jesse in tears and in anger and he had told me Kelly had just sternly talked to everyone about how they shouldn't make fun of Braden.
I decided that maybe I should go back in the rain to explain myself to people. So out I went into the rain again, my shoes still filling with blood, tears streaming down my face...my mind an utter blur of what had happened today.
Previously this day I received an email from my ex boyfriend and old best friend John O'Leary. It had been since August since we ummm..."enjoyed his parent's bed to the fullest" and tben he hadn't talked to me afterward, making me feel used and upset (when I ever not feeling used??) But the email kindly stated that he didn't mean what he did, that he was a jerk...and that our relationship...maybe need another go at it because he still cares about me. Oh no...this can't be happening to me...John picked the wrong night to talk me into a relationship again...but something about him was enticing and I dont know why...
But as I thought about everything that had happened, I ended up at the doors of Suite F with my mind buzzing. I told everyone about our situation, that people shouldn't be mad and all...everyone gave me a hug...that's when I decided that maybe Braden should know the truth. So while he was in the bathroom, I sat on his bed in the dark...waiting for him to come out and when he did...it wasn't like he was surprised to see me.
I wish I could remember the whole conversation but I cant. But all i remember is him shaking in the doorway while I told him it was wrong to string me along...and that if he didn't want a relationship, he should have told me eariler so I didn't have to waste my time with someone who doesn't know anything about a relationship and doesn't want to learn. There he was, just standing in the doorway...shaking like a leaf in the doorway. And I just looked at him with all my anger and walked over to him and hugged him. We stayed in each other's arms...not able to speak, not able to say anything...we were just crying because it was so messed up and complicated. He couldn't get any words out, everything was choked up in his throat...finally he said, "I want to give it a shot."
"you're only saying that because I just yelled at you for being a jerk...you're just saying that. Look at you! You look awful...I can see you're not ready for this..."
And he just stayed in my arms trembling like a dog telling me he wanted to "give it a shot..." and I kept telling me that you're only saying that because you're afraid...you dont know what you want.
So I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him on the cheek..."You need to think about what's best for you...not me...I've been down this road before...but you haven't, so it's important you know what you're getting into." We just looked at each other again and he told me to come back tomorrow (well i guess that's today)...and we would figure out what was best for both of us.
I went back into the party just as Braden's little sister got back from NYC and I told her what had happened. She took my hand and told me "Never has anyone persued my brother so well than you have...he's exactly what you need..." Even Jami was rooting for me...
The night ended when I became sober enough to drive and gave my friend Kate a ride back to the new toasters. We sat in the car and she told me what I should do...she's really awesome, and I'm glad she's turned into one of my good friends...

I went to sleep last night with the idea that I could have the mirror that the beast had in "Beauty and the Beast..." So i could see everyone. I told me to show it Braden and it showed a small child crying on his bed...looking like he had punished

Soon enough....the party will comence...

I am so excited I sound like a Jersey Girl

But nonetheless, excited to drink and "make merry" if you know what I mean

We got five inches of thick snow and now everything is all muddy and gross.

TOMORROW
I am gearing myself up for tomorrow's night party...I can't stop thinking about how drunk we're going to get and how much fun we're going to have. The alcohol is bought, the room is going to be cleaned, cups will be washed, everything is going to be put on ice and we're going to have a blast.
I can't stop thinking of the good times we're going to have.
Drinking=Braden
I hate planning this sort of date rape, but I'm not slipping anything into his drink...I'm just going to encourage him to drink...a lot!
Nothing wrong with drinking and taking advantage of the situation right?
But then that makes me Johnny Garrison..

Speaking of Johnny Garrison...I found out Alex is bringing his girlfriend to Indiana! Didn't he learn his lesson the first time? I mean, I still remember sitting in the church in Logansport...having lunch at the Holiday Inn, watching soft core porn and eating pizza with the cousins, watching Caddyshack at Uncle Eric's house...and now, he's bringing girl #2 to Indiana and he's not nervous? I'm nervous for her! Well, if she survives Muncie and Logansport with Alex wearing that orange shirt from his grandfather's closet, I will personally go and shake her hand. Just because I survived, it doesn't mean I dont have scars. Don't get me wrong, Alex's family was really nice and I miss them sometimes on lonely nights but they looked at me like I was a democrat from New England. Somehow that really bothered me that regionalism came into it. Plus all the Johnny Garrison stuff...oh and dont forget the Delta High Parking lot...Why Alex laughs about that night really scares me. I seriously thought I would have to use that "I fell down the stairs" excuse to explain why I got the shit kicked out of me.

Off to go watch "Die Another Day"
Best Bond Innuendo: "I thought Christmas came only once a year"