I look so good!
Today I took Braden for his "updating." I don't expect every boy I date to be up with the times but Braden needed a push in the right direction. And boy did he ever get a push in the right direction. My jaw almost hit the floor when he came out wearing that blue office shirt and those cord pants. That's my boyfriend? He's so attractive! It would seem a very shallow thing to say considering looks aren't everything but there was something sexually stimulating about Braden for the first time in my life...that I wanted to cast everything aside and throw my arms around him and push him into the dressing room. I'm sure he'd be terrified...but usually sexual whims don't happen everyday for me.
But as for everything...I say I had my doubts over break. See, I need passion...passion getting thrown up against a door, leaving with bruises...not S&M shit, that's freaky...but awkward, confused, knocking shit over passion...and I fear to say that Braden and passion do not go together. He might surprise me...dear God I hope he surprises me.
I saw Adaptation with the gang tonight. What a multi faceted movie. I enjoyed it to the fullest...and Streep doing green lines and having sex with a guy with no teeth...I mean that's just genius.
tomorrow is a day of unpacking, blondies...getting back to college...maybe showing Braden the ropes of sexual conduct.
Welcome to Passion 345...I will be your professor Emily Sauter. This class deals with the specifics of passion in context to real advanced sexual skill and tactics. The class will begin slowly with basic footwork and by the end, I expect the student to be at an advanced levels, with lots of hands on demenstrations.
I look forward to working with you...
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Friday, January 24, 2003
May I please present Miss Emily Sauter...
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Four days left till Bardland...
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
Sunday, January 19, 2003
Whoring the Camcam for cash
The title is exactly what I did. For 80 bucks, a hot lunch, and a tank of gas...I drove to Ithaca, NY to drop Kendall Gilchrest at Ithaca College. Kendall and I aren't exactly friends because we really don't know each other, but when her brother complained at work...I thought, hey...I need 80 bucks...and I didn't do it just for the money, the drive on rt. 17 up to Ithaca is one of the most breathtaking views of New York State you can get.
Think about it, if i had stayed at home all day...I would have been watching MTV's "real life" like I was yesterday...the pathetic side of myself. I wanted to get out and do something for a change instead of watching good ole TV or staring at the monitor all day hoping for a glimpse of someone to talk to. I got up and did something and Kendall's pretty cool...so I felt like I did good. Though my lower back hurts a lot, but hey, you drive nine hours, you're going to be in pain.
Braden emailed me today with a so-called apology about not talking to me...it was full of excuses but with the signature Braden-esque tart honesty and humor, I was happy he had even thought about me these past days. Going back to Bard in six days is going to be strange, It almost seems like Suite F was a wonderful dream I had one night and when I woke up, I went to work at the pharmacy and ate conversation hearts all day. Jesse is just a voice on the phone like that of Charlie's Angels...Bard College seems like the past and Darien seems like it's always been the present and future. It's really messing up my sense of timing.
So sad really...they do give us too much time around here those Bard people. I need to learn something fast or else I'm going to turn out like those people to TRL...all shallow, pathetic, disturbed, no sense of what is good for them, growing old and being republican...good thing Joe Millionaire is on tomorrow night.
That show is chock full o' nowledge (knowledge spelled wrong because I'm proving that Joe Millionaire is trash for morons, yet I watch...what a great show)
The title is exactly what I did. For 80 bucks, a hot lunch, and a tank of gas...I drove to Ithaca, NY to drop Kendall Gilchrest at Ithaca College. Kendall and I aren't exactly friends because we really don't know each other, but when her brother complained at work...I thought, hey...I need 80 bucks...and I didn't do it just for the money, the drive on rt. 17 up to Ithaca is one of the most breathtaking views of New York State you can get.
Think about it, if i had stayed at home all day...I would have been watching MTV's "real life" like I was yesterday...the pathetic side of myself. I wanted to get out and do something for a change instead of watching good ole TV or staring at the monitor all day hoping for a glimpse of someone to talk to. I got up and did something and Kendall's pretty cool...so I felt like I did good. Though my lower back hurts a lot, but hey, you drive nine hours, you're going to be in pain.
Braden emailed me today with a so-called apology about not talking to me...it was full of excuses but with the signature Braden-esque tart honesty and humor, I was happy he had even thought about me these past days. Going back to Bard in six days is going to be strange, It almost seems like Suite F was a wonderful dream I had one night and when I woke up, I went to work at the pharmacy and ate conversation hearts all day. Jesse is just a voice on the phone like that of Charlie's Angels...Bard College seems like the past and Darien seems like it's always been the present and future. It's really messing up my sense of timing.
So sad really...they do give us too much time around here those Bard people. I need to learn something fast or else I'm going to turn out like those people to TRL...all shallow, pathetic, disturbed, no sense of what is good for them, growing old and being republican...good thing Joe Millionaire is on tomorrow night.
That show is chock full o' nowledge (knowledge spelled wrong because I'm proving that Joe Millionaire is trash for morons, yet I watch...what a great show)
Saturday, January 18, 2003
A little entry to close the day...
Pharmacy work today from 3-8 was hectic but fun. I worked with the cool kids, bet one of the pharmacists I could eat a Classic Triple from Wendys (he doesn't believe I can do it, but for those who have seen it...you know I can) and then a large man came into the pharmacy.
"Sweetie, what kind of cologne do you like?" No one has ever asked me that before...but I immediatly came up with an answer, "Sir, I'm an old spice girl."
Old Spice...take a hint gentlemen (cough Braden cough)...this smell can make any woman melt. There's something empowering about Old Spice, that a real man wears this...Old Spice brings me back to the John "blue couch" days where I would go home and smell like him...it just was a little token from the night that said, "you done good kid."
The large man eventually took a black bottle of Dakkar (or whatever it was) and confided in me that he was meeting his Internet girlfriend for the first time. I wished him the best of luck, he seemed sweet and witty, so I thought he had a chance. Pharmacy work isn't just about telling stupid quilted coated ladies to calm down and that we're not the insurance company but I think it's about helping people do their best. I helped the fat man smell good. Score one for Emily and Grieb's pharmacy and maybe even, score one for the large man.
After he left, the store was quiet. No one but me, lizzie, lizzie's friend who was picking her up, and Sandy the pharmacist. I pulled an Old spice deodorant off the shelf and opened the cap and took a smell. Oh the smell of passion, the smell of unbridled foul play, the smell of a thousand car rides home thinking out loud, "now Emily, what just happened?" I comtemplated bringing the deodorant home with me, but I couldn't. It was a special smell and I think I don't deserve to smell it all the time. Old Spice just reminds me of part of a poem I wrote senior year aptly entitled, "No means No."
You smell the way a man should
A thick musty forest…
A boat gliding through the salty fog…
Lumberjacks with axes in flannel
Cutting down giant redwoods
And sweating profusely
Thinking of their Fried Chicken dinner
*
My shirts reek of what was
And what could have been
And what will never happen
Oh and on another evil note...crite sheets came back. Now I know Mark Lytle hates me, James Chace called my term paper a "disappointment" and Mark Lindeman told me I "tried too hard." Hmmm...and here I was happy with my grades...maybe I should think again. Though on the upside, Liz Frank still loves me. And maybe Pulitzer prize winners have superpowers to make everything bad go away. I bet she does have superpowers. And with her on my side, my moderation board doesn't stand a chance. Super Liz with Pulitzer Power! Up, up and away!
Pharmacy work today from 3-8 was hectic but fun. I worked with the cool kids, bet one of the pharmacists I could eat a Classic Triple from Wendys (he doesn't believe I can do it, but for those who have seen it...you know I can) and then a large man came into the pharmacy.
"Sweetie, what kind of cologne do you like?" No one has ever asked me that before...but I immediatly came up with an answer, "Sir, I'm an old spice girl."
Old Spice...take a hint gentlemen (cough Braden cough)...this smell can make any woman melt. There's something empowering about Old Spice, that a real man wears this...Old Spice brings me back to the John "blue couch" days where I would go home and smell like him...it just was a little token from the night that said, "you done good kid."
The large man eventually took a black bottle of Dakkar (or whatever it was) and confided in me that he was meeting his Internet girlfriend for the first time. I wished him the best of luck, he seemed sweet and witty, so I thought he had a chance. Pharmacy work isn't just about telling stupid quilted coated ladies to calm down and that we're not the insurance company but I think it's about helping people do their best. I helped the fat man smell good. Score one for Emily and Grieb's pharmacy and maybe even, score one for the large man.
After he left, the store was quiet. No one but me, lizzie, lizzie's friend who was picking her up, and Sandy the pharmacist. I pulled an Old spice deodorant off the shelf and opened the cap and took a smell. Oh the smell of passion, the smell of unbridled foul play, the smell of a thousand car rides home thinking out loud, "now Emily, what just happened?" I comtemplated bringing the deodorant home with me, but I couldn't. It was a special smell and I think I don't deserve to smell it all the time. Old Spice just reminds me of part of a poem I wrote senior year aptly entitled, "No means No."
You smell the way a man should
A thick musty forest…
A boat gliding through the salty fog…
Lumberjacks with axes in flannel
Cutting down giant redwoods
And sweating profusely
Thinking of their Fried Chicken dinner
*
My shirts reek of what was
And what could have been
And what will never happen
Oh and on another evil note...crite sheets came back. Now I know Mark Lytle hates me, James Chace called my term paper a "disappointment" and Mark Lindeman told me I "tried too hard." Hmmm...and here I was happy with my grades...maybe I should think again. Though on the upside, Liz Frank still loves me. And maybe Pulitzer prize winners have superpowers to make everything bad go away. I bet she does have superpowers. And with her on my side, my moderation board doesn't stand a chance. Super Liz with Pulitzer Power! Up, up and away!
Friday, January 17, 2003
Ramblings
You see, It's been almost a month since I've seen the woodsy bubble of the Bardland...but back in CT, I've been learning a lot about myself, Darien, and the people around me. This is a demi list of ideas, notions, thoughts that have been going through my head over the month of no learning, just staring...
*Laser tag- if i can think of the only thing to represent the 1990's, it would be laser tag. Man, that game was the shit!
*Lemon Lime gatorade used to be gross, but now I can't get enough...it's just so fake, it's great!
*Vh1 is now my new favorite channel. Does that mean I'm old? And while we're on the subject of TV, I believe "Great Hotels" on the travel channel is the best show alive. Samantha Brown gets to see all these cool hotels, eat great food, and get massages wherever she goes and she's so COOL! Damn, I think I found a new role model. Sorry Michael Moore.
*Costco is so cool because it ruins Mom and Pop stores around America buy selling Americans big stuff for cheap. It's a warehouse of shit piled up and we go for it because we need to save money...I bought Amelie for 9 bucks on DVD! Hell yeah, go Capitalism!
*My cat is showing signs of age...plus he takes up the whole bed. I hate when he does that.
*I've been watching a lot of TV lately and I've noticed that people in America are skinny on television as opposed to real life where they are overweight. This has made me stop eating lunch because of the hyponotic stare of the television. Well, I was watching a documentary on Air Force One...so I was learning. All i had for lunch with a soft pretzel and a diet coke. I even thought about going to the gym (even though I don't belong to one here in CT...I just wanted to go to some gym)...that's not me...I don't "work out!"
*I talked to Alex today and I found out that he really does mean well. He's a sweet boy (though he doesn't want anyone to know that) who has a strong belief structure and we bardians and other such folk are just not used to that hellfire of Republican Middle American values. Alex and I just decided that hey, we're two different people and we're bound to do great things. He even told me I could do great with my writing...I always believed he hated my prose! So kudos Alex...
*I really hate that Dominos Dots commercial. "They're coming!" screams that perfectly American suburban boy...ugg and those stupid dots roll down the hill...how pathetic.
*Letting me loose in a barnes and noble is not good. I want too many books and I don't have the monies. I'm just thinking "birthday...birthday...birthday..."
*Babysitting has lost its paranoia and has gone into the sweet life. Alls i gotta do is drive some kids places, make a quick meal, watch a movie (this week's movie was Babe, a classic!) and huzzah...75 bucks American!
*hanging out with Colin Donegan is still as awkward as I remember...watching full house on the couch at 3 AM was like being a senior in high school again...a time machine back into what I call my "loose days" well not really loose but loose for me. Playing the "time game" (where you watch the clock and then when it changes to the next minute, whoever yells out the time first wins...ohhh yeah, we know how to party) was just as silly as ever and although he's a "nice boy" as my mother would say, he's still got that 25 percent sleaze from high school that still pangs my memory and makes me cringe. Poor boy...
*I haven't spoken to Braden in a good long while...my so-called "boyfriend" is no where to be found and I have a sneaking suspition that he's mad at me, though I don't know why...I adore the boy, i really do but being away from him is making me wonder how it's going to be when we get back to the suite life...
*Talking to Jesse on the phone has been my only joy, I love the kid dearly and being away from him for so long is torture. He's my best friend...what can I say? I set him up with one of my campers (sound dirty? Hardly...the kid's 17 and adorable...even I had the hots for him back in the day...) hopefully they'll hit it off and then we can all turn the suite into a sex den...ohh yeah!
*I have seen knock offs of the Burberry Quilted Coat everywhere...and they don't come cheap. The knock off jacket at "chou chou" (stupid expensive shoes) was 200 bucks. I don't pay more than 200 dollars for anything...that's just the Emily way...well maybe for a car and maybe for a house, whatever the Emily code is stupid. The coat has become a town icon that probably can been seen from space. It's like a plague that's spreading through town. Thanks to the stock market and the empty pocket books of the sauter ladies, we're not infected...
*Last night I had a dream that was at Bard, though there was a building named "raggio" (don't ask, it's just a dream) and I was being trapped by a woman in a tiara and a white dress and by fighting her in this large wooden room with soft white floors, was using Matrix techniques, swinging her around, getting stuck in the air. Death on was on my side and while we fought her, we recited poetry. I got free from her hold and ran down the grand staircase and into the Bard steamroom (it was very beautiful, encased in marble) where about 50 small kids in bathing caps were sitting. An old friend from high school stood up in her towel and started yelling about not being a victim...and everyone cheered. After we went to Raggio, an old office building that had neon lights on it that said the latest bard news and even stock prices. Inside was a mess of dark rooms and art studios. "I wish I could live here" someone said and it was quiet, unlike Tremblay...I agreed with these people and then i woke up...am I healthy?
Okay, that's enough for tonight...i'll add some more in the morning when I think about it while I dream...and while the snow falls here in Darien, I drink my gatorade in the darkness saying:
"Anna Nicole Smith is a moron..."
You see, It's been almost a month since I've seen the woodsy bubble of the Bardland...but back in CT, I've been learning a lot about myself, Darien, and the people around me. This is a demi list of ideas, notions, thoughts that have been going through my head over the month of no learning, just staring...
*Laser tag- if i can think of the only thing to represent the 1990's, it would be laser tag. Man, that game was the shit!
*Lemon Lime gatorade used to be gross, but now I can't get enough...it's just so fake, it's great!
*Vh1 is now my new favorite channel. Does that mean I'm old? And while we're on the subject of TV, I believe "Great Hotels" on the travel channel is the best show alive. Samantha Brown gets to see all these cool hotels, eat great food, and get massages wherever she goes and she's so COOL! Damn, I think I found a new role model. Sorry Michael Moore.
*Costco is so cool because it ruins Mom and Pop stores around America buy selling Americans big stuff for cheap. It's a warehouse of shit piled up and we go for it because we need to save money...I bought Amelie for 9 bucks on DVD! Hell yeah, go Capitalism!
*My cat is showing signs of age...plus he takes up the whole bed. I hate when he does that.
*I've been watching a lot of TV lately and I've noticed that people in America are skinny on television as opposed to real life where they are overweight. This has made me stop eating lunch because of the hyponotic stare of the television. Well, I was watching a documentary on Air Force One...so I was learning. All i had for lunch with a soft pretzel and a diet coke. I even thought about going to the gym (even though I don't belong to one here in CT...I just wanted to go to some gym)...that's not me...I don't "work out!"
*I talked to Alex today and I found out that he really does mean well. He's a sweet boy (though he doesn't want anyone to know that) who has a strong belief structure and we bardians and other such folk are just not used to that hellfire of Republican Middle American values. Alex and I just decided that hey, we're two different people and we're bound to do great things. He even told me I could do great with my writing...I always believed he hated my prose! So kudos Alex...
*I really hate that Dominos Dots commercial. "They're coming!" screams that perfectly American suburban boy...ugg and those stupid dots roll down the hill...how pathetic.
*Letting me loose in a barnes and noble is not good. I want too many books and I don't have the monies. I'm just thinking "birthday...birthday...birthday..."
*Babysitting has lost its paranoia and has gone into the sweet life. Alls i gotta do is drive some kids places, make a quick meal, watch a movie (this week's movie was Babe, a classic!) and huzzah...75 bucks American!
*hanging out with Colin Donegan is still as awkward as I remember...watching full house on the couch at 3 AM was like being a senior in high school again...a time machine back into what I call my "loose days" well not really loose but loose for me. Playing the "time game" (where you watch the clock and then when it changes to the next minute, whoever yells out the time first wins...ohhh yeah, we know how to party) was just as silly as ever and although he's a "nice boy" as my mother would say, he's still got that 25 percent sleaze from high school that still pangs my memory and makes me cringe. Poor boy...
*I haven't spoken to Braden in a good long while...my so-called "boyfriend" is no where to be found and I have a sneaking suspition that he's mad at me, though I don't know why...I adore the boy, i really do but being away from him is making me wonder how it's going to be when we get back to the suite life...
*Talking to Jesse on the phone has been my only joy, I love the kid dearly and being away from him for so long is torture. He's my best friend...what can I say? I set him up with one of my campers (sound dirty? Hardly...the kid's 17 and adorable...even I had the hots for him back in the day...) hopefully they'll hit it off and then we can all turn the suite into a sex den...ohh yeah!
*I have seen knock offs of the Burberry Quilted Coat everywhere...and they don't come cheap. The knock off jacket at "chou chou" (stupid expensive shoes) was 200 bucks. I don't pay more than 200 dollars for anything...that's just the Emily way...well maybe for a car and maybe for a house, whatever the Emily code is stupid. The coat has become a town icon that probably can been seen from space. It's like a plague that's spreading through town. Thanks to the stock market and the empty pocket books of the sauter ladies, we're not infected...
*Last night I had a dream that was at Bard, though there was a building named "raggio" (don't ask, it's just a dream) and I was being trapped by a woman in a tiara and a white dress and by fighting her in this large wooden room with soft white floors, was using Matrix techniques, swinging her around, getting stuck in the air. Death on was on my side and while we fought her, we recited poetry. I got free from her hold and ran down the grand staircase and into the Bard steamroom (it was very beautiful, encased in marble) where about 50 small kids in bathing caps were sitting. An old friend from high school stood up in her towel and started yelling about not being a victim...and everyone cheered. After we went to Raggio, an old office building that had neon lights on it that said the latest bard news and even stock prices. Inside was a mess of dark rooms and art studios. "I wish I could live here" someone said and it was quiet, unlike Tremblay...I agreed with these people and then i woke up...am I healthy?
Okay, that's enough for tonight...i'll add some more in the morning when I think about it while I dream...and while the snow falls here in Darien, I drink my gatorade in the darkness saying:
"Anna Nicole Smith is a moron..."
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
It was this dream I had last night...
Maybe it's the TV I've been watching...or the fantasies that Americans have with war...but I had a dream that when I woke up, I assumed I was dead.
I want you to picture army headquarters looking like Hogwarts from Harry Potter. West Point but with a whole old castle and fortified walls and a moat. I was skiing on the ski slope when I see two Apache helicopters come over the ridge. Holy shit, that's the navy! I ski back to tell my superiors yelling, "The navy is coming!" I was Paul Revere on Skis. We batten down the hatches and I run upstairs, not having enough time to go to my quarters and run into Alex's room, but he's not there. Everyone's running around screaming and yelling, trying to find guns, armour...this isn't a drill, the navy really has come to take the Army down. I find Alex's M-16 leaning up against a wall in his room and open the stained glass windows, Jason comes up next to me with his gun and there they are, in droves...dressed as Redcoats, The navy has come to take us down. The electricity dies and we're sitting in the darkness, looking through the action through the barrels of the guns. Jason says we better start firing and I agree. I've never shot an M-16 before. I pull the trigger and fall back and hit my head on the hardwood flooring. I feel blood at the back on my neck but manage to stand up and fire again. I can feel the bloodlust going through me...no one messes with my headquarters.
We ran downstairs to round up more ammo and the navymen are almost dead...piles of dead redcoats are seen everywhere. The army then breaks out into celebration. While the bodies are being burned, we retire to the dining room, some of us covered in blood, some of us missing...Alex was missing. We manage to not mourne about the dead but drink wine from goblets stored in the basement, eat bowls of mac and cheese, and party till 1 AM when I was called away from a special assignment.
The Army has requested that Jason and I become spies for Iraq. They give me a small flat panel monitor on a string and tell me to be careful...using my fighter plane, Jason and I fly on dangerous low level missions around the no fly zone...constantly being hit by enemy missiles. The small monitor around my neck keeps beeping, taking pictures...picking up radioactive materials. The Iraqis start to follow us and Jason loses ground and crashes on Iraqi rt.22...I manage to help him before he explodes and we're back to Army headquarters. The general congratulates me and Jason and lets us go skiing again.
this dream has a sort of "Lord of the Rings," "1984" "Harry Potter" feeling to it...but I don't know how to feel about myself when my imagination is coming up with these dreams...do I have problems?
Maybe it's the TV I've been watching...or the fantasies that Americans have with war...but I had a dream that when I woke up, I assumed I was dead.
I want you to picture army headquarters looking like Hogwarts from Harry Potter. West Point but with a whole old castle and fortified walls and a moat. I was skiing on the ski slope when I see two Apache helicopters come over the ridge. Holy shit, that's the navy! I ski back to tell my superiors yelling, "The navy is coming!" I was Paul Revere on Skis. We batten down the hatches and I run upstairs, not having enough time to go to my quarters and run into Alex's room, but he's not there. Everyone's running around screaming and yelling, trying to find guns, armour...this isn't a drill, the navy really has come to take the Army down. I find Alex's M-16 leaning up against a wall in his room and open the stained glass windows, Jason comes up next to me with his gun and there they are, in droves...dressed as Redcoats, The navy has come to take us down. The electricity dies and we're sitting in the darkness, looking through the action through the barrels of the guns. Jason says we better start firing and I agree. I've never shot an M-16 before. I pull the trigger and fall back and hit my head on the hardwood flooring. I feel blood at the back on my neck but manage to stand up and fire again. I can feel the bloodlust going through me...no one messes with my headquarters.
We ran downstairs to round up more ammo and the navymen are almost dead...piles of dead redcoats are seen everywhere. The army then breaks out into celebration. While the bodies are being burned, we retire to the dining room, some of us covered in blood, some of us missing...Alex was missing. We manage to not mourne about the dead but drink wine from goblets stored in the basement, eat bowls of mac and cheese, and party till 1 AM when I was called away from a special assignment.
The Army has requested that Jason and I become spies for Iraq. They give me a small flat panel monitor on a string and tell me to be careful...using my fighter plane, Jason and I fly on dangerous low level missions around the no fly zone...constantly being hit by enemy missiles. The small monitor around my neck keeps beeping, taking pictures...picking up radioactive materials. The Iraqis start to follow us and Jason loses ground and crashes on Iraqi rt.22...I manage to help him before he explodes and we're back to Army headquarters. The general congratulates me and Jason and lets us go skiing again.
this dream has a sort of "Lord of the Rings," "1984" "Harry Potter" feeling to it...but I don't know how to feel about myself when my imagination is coming up with these dreams...do I have problems?
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