The New and Improved Blog of Emily!

Thanks to Kevin, my blog will be beautified (soon to be complete with picture)...and I thank him heartily for his actions. Kevin republished my archives, so now they extend back to April, when I first started the journal. I reread the old posts, noticing how obsessed I was with our old pal Johnny Garrison (Alex tells me he's too low on the chain of comand to go to Iraq to die...so damnit)...I didn't realize how much of a rut I was in until I looked at proof square in the face. Thank God that I have some semblance of a life back (though Alex assures me I don't...but the thing is I am not all secure like he is and that's fine with me). Baby steps Alex...remember I am not as big and as strong with good Midwestern values as you are...I am only a stand-offish shallow New Englander...with much to learn (please, note sarcasm)...
Today my uncles took my mother and I out to eat at the Culinary Institute of America or the CIA...A man in a suit took my coat, pulled the chair out for me, and a man kept pouring me iced tea after iced tea. I had my own personal waiter at the French restaurant who served me food hidden under those silver tray covers (I thought those only existed in cartoons). I had the lamb chops, dipped in a chicken based batter with red wine sauce...it was heaven on a plate. For dessert, I had chocolate mousse, swimming in sauce with a chocolate leaf pointing out of the top. The food was so beautiful, I wanted to take a picture of it before I ruined it with my fork. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was important, like these people were serving me because I was me. I know that's not the case, but I wish it could be. I long to be important in someone's eyes...
After I left the CIA, I wanted a hot dog. I figure it was because I had been treated like a queen for three hours, I wanted to get back onto my level by eating something 2nd rate.
A 2nd rate meat for a 2nd rate girl...

Dear Mr. Sadaam,

First of all, I would like to ask you how you feel right now…you aren’t sick or dying, you have a clean bill of health? I always thought for a man of your stature that you always looked healthy and in control but when I watch American news, it seems like you have no idea what’s going on. Is that because the American war machine is making me think you’re a bad person or is that you really are? I wish I could know the real Sadaam without all this Iraqi and American bias. You know, understand how you really are, without making you think that you’re the next Hitler. But, of course, Hitler did build the Autobahn and fed the poor. So can’t there be a good side to everyone?
As an American, I warn you that I’m objective about the whole war thing because as most Americans, I’m ignorant about what’s really going on. Mainly I’m ignorant because everything is classified. Do you make everything classified in your country? Because I think it really sucks to have it all be classified. I want to know because I believe I have a right to know. I’m sure you don’t tell your countrymen much. Hell, you won’t even tell people where your nuclear reactors are (not that accusing you of having a nuclear reactor, we Americans just assume you do…so why can’t you just come out and tell us you do…I think that pulling Mr. Dubya’s chain is a pretty stupid idea).
The main purpose of this letter is to warn you to cut the shit. That’s about it, I’m being blunt. I see all the news in America about you claiming all this crap, and it makes me sad that we have to go to war because of this. I’m not blaming you because it’s more America’s love of the black gold and corporate foul play that’s making this war possible. I just think that we wouldn’t have to have anyone die if you said something. I want to know what you think, not what a correspondent in Washington says you think. So Sadaam, please help me out and tell me what you think. I am tired of using my imagination.
I also want to apologize for my country’s involvement with your country. You see, right now in American history, we’ve reached a time where we’re all a little paranoid and we’ve begun to point fingers. It so happens also that our president and his little white (Colin Powell is white, but everything thinks he’s black, just so you know) are pretty ideological that they can stop terrorism single-handedly, which is pretty much, never going to happen. I’m sure you’ve figured out that America is a hole and we need to get out, so we’re pointing the finger at you, Daddy’s nemesis from the Gulf War.
This letter is just to warn you that you might want to change your policies a little. I am not a supporter of pro-American beliefs; I am strictly against the Republican regime, which I am forced to live under. I am just warning you because I believe that everyone must have a chance to run and change their course before they meet their end. If we go to war with you Mr. Sadaam Sir, you will die and your country will become just another McCountry under a ruling of Pro American businessmen. Please change your tune before you end up whistling ‘God Bless America’ in a cell before you are killed off by an American made bullet, made by one of our illegal immigrants.

I only wish you luck because you will need it…and I am sorry.
Fondest wishes for a quick death by a serviceman,

Emily Steele Sauter

Blitzkrieg in Massachusetts

My trip to MA was short, and therefore I was jumping from place to place in a very rapid fashion...but still, it was a good time. My first stop was the cute white house in Milton that belonged to Casey. Casey had just woken up from sleeping when I arrived...so in her signature "Go to Jail" slippers, she greeted me. We went into Boston, ate a bagel...browsed the shops...saw Avril Lavigne was playing at one of the theaters on the 8th and giggled like school girls that "if only we could go..." I was a day of good times, cold weather. We went into the DSW shoe place and I tried on a pair of very feminine shoes, with pointy toe and tall heel...but alas, I cannot wear anything of that nature. I felt like a 6 year old in her mother's stilettos...
After saying goodbye to Casey and all the fun, I drove the 45 minutes to Topsfield to have dinner with Blake Spencer Holt. Blake and I spent a night of passion together under a tree near the CCS building during a thunderstorm while the moon was red during the hottest day of the springtime in April. It's been almost a year since I saw him...Blake, now clad with a gotee and cute little glasses, looks great. He's just a really nice guy, who...unlike some people, actually took the time after our little tryst to get to know me...and I really respect him for just the incredible person he is (and he's still a hottie!). His family also is adorable...Blake says they liked me, so I'm happy about that. Hopefully, I can visit him again soon...
After I left Topsfield, I went to see my old pal Chelsea. We watched Ice Age (what a great movie!) and then, Clarrisa Explains it All was on the "n" channel (whatever that is...we don't get it here, but it looks like my childhood) and it was the great flu episode where Clarrisa and Ferg face have to take care of their sick parents and there's a blizzard and no water...classic sitcom complete with laugh track and adorable characters.
But now I'm home in CT, ready for an afternoon of babysitting, watching "Richie Rich" (my favorite movie of ALL TIME, no joke...what a classic story of money and love) and driving the little critters to swimming, all for a pretty sum of 75 dollars American.
Thanks to all who contributed to my blitzkrieg of Massachusetts: The Spirit of America

The Burberry Quilted Coat

Working in the pharmacy has made me remember all the interesting characters that enter the pharmacy for their medications. The old dandies of rich men who live out on Contentment Island with their large white houses...they stroll into the pharmacy wearing bowties and chasmere sweaters, itching for their Nexium, Viagra, Lipitor...what keeps them alive. The young moms enter, picking up the zithromax liquid that comes in the purple box with the Zithromax Zebra smiling from behind the Z...the Amoxil colored bright pink so children will actually take it, the adderall for their confused ignorant teenager, and for themselves...a nice big bottle of Zoloft, prozac, wellbutrin, valium...to forget the awful lives they lead. And these women come in droves all wearing the same thing: The Burberry Quilted coat. It's a nice all weather coat, with the Burberry plaid at the cuffs and the collar. It comes in many colors, at busy times at the pharmacy, a rainbow of Burberry coats can be seen...I'm helping the tan woman, my boss is helping navy blue, the pharmacist is explaining dosages to red...It seems to me that women in Darien were issued this coat by the mail and that is why everyone has one. A government issue, like the Army..."you live in Darien, have this coat so you can be a Republican conformist..." all it needs is a pin with a blue wave on it, the proud Darien symbol...or maybe an arm band...and it truly would be a uniform.
I asked my mother why she didn't have a Burberry quilted coat and she sighed. "I don't have 325 dollars for a coat Emily..." My mom is the Darien mom, moreso than any of the women that sport that stupid coat...so I'm trying to start a fund so my mom can really be a true darien mom, complete with the uniform...and she already has that sexless woman haircut.
The ice has been coming down all day and I lay in bed looking at the ceiling for an undisclosed amount of time with the cat resting its head on my stomach...I don't know if I fell asleep, but I was dreaming about Bard and Braden and how I wish we really could make America smaller so I could see him again and not have to wait so damn long until I can be back at Bard. When I opened my eyes, it had been 90 minutes. I don't know if I fell asleep, but it doesn't matter. I have nothing to do anyway...I'm just wasting away here in Darien...thinking about that damn Burberry coat.

Drinking Champagne in a dixie cup...

My New Years was not filled with glamour like the all Gershwin gala at Lincoln Center (I watched it on TV, asking myself why I wasn't there?) I was sitting eating a double cheeseburger with Kevin at the kitchen table, cheese dripping everywhere. My new years meal last year was chicken fingers in a deserted Arbys on the side of the road in Muncie so I think this year's dinner was a little better. I remember this bell in the Arbys at the side of the door and if you liked the service, you rang it on your way out and every employee chimed out "Thank you!" in perfect togetherness. I believe I rang the bell on my way out.

My New Years this year was an intimate affair. Ironically, the only alcohol I consumed was a dixie cup of champagne while I was working at the pharmacy. It was quite classy, all of us behind the counter and underaged...drinking champagne and helping customers. Yes, it was only a dixie cup, but it was enough alcohol for one day.

So there we were, in my den drinking sparkling cider and watching "Zoolander." The movie was pretty stupid, but it was really good and really funny. All those cameos in the movie are amazing.

The ball dropped and everyone hugged each other. I kissed my cat Spoo, hoping he would have a pleasant new year. I've only kissed two people for the new year...Alex and Johnny.

But we came to an epiphany at work yesterday with my friend James. If Johnny is a recruit, then he might have to go off to war if we have the war in Iraq...well if I don't have the war in Iraq, then it'll be Korea. The smell of war is in the air and it smells like popcorn and fireworks. But if Johnny goes off to war, then he might die! I don't want to wish death on people, that's not very nice. But if Sadaam kills him first...then maybe Sadaam isn't that bad after all.

As for my resolution in the New Year, I have several. The one I care least about is the "losing 10 pounds" one. The one I care most is learning to be happy with who I am and not what some asshole on TV says is popular (though as an American, I believe there is an implant in a woman's brain that MAKES her care...and cry during romantic comedies when she gets the right man)...but I don't know how that'll pan out.

Tonight I'm going to see Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers because I haven't seen it and all my friends have but they said they'd see it with me again. Isn't that nice?? Jen also said she'd watch "Joe Millionaire" with me every monday because those women are so stupid, it's great to yell at the TV and throw shit too, even though they can't hear you. Stupid women make me laugh.

Well loyal patron's of Emily's World, Happy New Year and

So the secret's out!

My family and I were sitting in a plastic booth at Friendlys around the screaming of children when she leans over and asks me "who's the new boy?"
How did she know about Braden? So instead of denying everything...I told her everything in this unexcited voice. "yes he's from Seattle...he's a film major...he's 22..." I was waiting for this time for the family to dig into my college life yet I didn't think it would take place at Friendlys.
I don't mind that the family knows...there isn't much to know. I haven't talked to Braden since the 23rd...I don't know how to take that. I miss him...yeah I know all my stupid blogs will just annouce "I miss Braden..." and then the next day, "I miss Braden..."
I found my old journal on the floor today and I read my Indiana entry and almost started to cry. A year ago today...right now actually I was sitting in the Starbucks in Indianapolis reading "Another Roadside Attraction" by Tom Robbins, waiting for Alex and his stupid parents to drive up in the Cadillac and Alex would come in wearing his full dress uniform and rather than hugging him, I just looked at him and said "What the hell are you wearing?"
Anyway...when I was cleaning my room, I read the journal entry from Indiana and teared up. The title of the section was called, "Let it all be a joke, please???"
"Today is the first day for the rest of your life. As I return to my bubble...I remember my middle western holiday for many things...things you can't talk about with anyone but laught to yourself. What did it all mean to me? Not much...oh no...I see...A relationship is only as good as the people in it. I awoke to the angelic face of victory...and also awoke a sleeping giant. Please forgive me because my eyes no long see militant value...what was is not...what I saw burned in flames on the relization and epiphany of free-will, a beautiful and capable goddess that, when attracted to another human is banished from society in clouds of smoke."

What does it mean? Lord only know...back then I was full of emotion and didn't know that I was slowly turning into a puddle. But it symbolizes the intensity of confusion that I was starting to feel.

There's a quote scribbled near the binding that I had completely fogotten until now...
"The best Doctor I ever had helped me through alcohol poisoning...then I did him."
Why was I so thrilled about what I had done when clearly I saw Alex's face turn into Satan's in only a few short hours because of my actions. I could pepper my life full of "what if..and if onlys" but clearly the fact that it still, after a year...burns deep inside me...
The next section is called "A Justification of Actions" but there's nothing there...
I only hope that Alex did what he said he was going to do...
punch Johnny and take a picture for me...

Fuck you AOL!

Today Kevin and Sean bravely set up my computer with wireless connections so I'll be online basically all the time now! I can't wait. I had hamburger helper tonight and it made me think of the Suite F days but since it was at home, it really wasn't the same.

Last night I had a camp reunion and Kim Wiggin pinched my butt (which I was against) but it was still good to see her. I'm thinking of setting up Matt Stern, sexually confused sweetheart with Mr. Aylen himself. I thought Matt needs a teacher and what better teacher than J. Oliver Aylen, master of homosexuality (he would like to think he was at least). We'll see how the cards play out. I'm just thinking for Jesse's sake for our Suite F orgy.

I don't know how I feel about vacation so far. I've been up to my knees in pharmacy work but making money has really been my number 1 priority. I see money as a good thing...

Well, I don't really have much to comment on...I'm just happy about this wireless connection and I want to shout it from the rooftops...
"Honey, what rhymes with blueballs?"