Monday, December 31, 2012

Surprise! heart attack

Its been a long time since I've had a panic attack and I really don't like having these sudden randomly reoccurring panic attacks. I'm hoping they don't stick around for much longer. I'm hoping they fade away and I can continue to function normally with my boring little life.  These attacks are not unwarranted, I can say that for sure. In the past month, so much emotional baggage has been pressed into my shoulders that it is hard to go through a whole day with having a sudden realization that real life is knocking on my front door and is locked and loaded waiting for me to answer so it can shoot me in the face with its shotgun.  I'm terrified and I can't shake the feeling dammit.
My first issue is this: my graduation is imminent. You'd think this is good news, but for me its looking like a death sentence.  I have been relying solely on financial aid for the past 3 years.  I now have to scramble to find job so that I can be financially responsible.  I can barely keep up with my scholarly responsibilities and I don't think the real world is going to be any easier.
My second issue: my family is emigrating to Florida.  Well, my mother and sister left for Florida several months ago, but now my grandmother (my one strong stable familial mentor) is planning to leave too.  It appears that she will be leaving in early March, and this is before I finish my last bit of school.  I'm worried that if I don't find a job at the right time and I need somewhere to land in my time of need, she's not going to be here.  My grandfather is going to Florida to officially retire.  He's come upon some difficult health concerns.  This is hard to think of, and say, but this brings me to terrible thoughts of the temporary state of humans, the mortality of my family, and the uncertainty of how things are going to be in the future.  I've only experienced the loss of a family member once in my life, and I only remember a short moment of my grief because I was five.  I'm not sure of how to deal with things like this.
My third issue: Where am I going to go when I have nothing at the end of March. No financial aid for April's rent. No job, no house, nothing. I'm going to have to get rid of all my excess possessions.  I'm going to pack up all of my necessary items into the pickup truck and I'm going to live homeless in it, stealing internet from coffee houses, showering at gyms, stealing food from the grocery store... I've had a long conversation with my father and he believes that he knows so many people that he can help me find a job in my hometown Carson City.  I could be a waitress at a casino or a hotel maid.  I can see all the bright lights in store for me.  In all honesty, I can certainly see myself surfing my father's sofa.  Its not a terrible idea.  His new business seems to be taking flight, albeit slowly, but at least he has something right now.  At least I know that since my dad never leaves Nevada, he will always be there.
My fourth issue: my social life is a little--no, a lot fucked up right now.  I couldn't have made a worse social feaux pas with some very good friends while unacceptably drunk at a party.  You know how all of us have some little skeletons in our closets and we like to keep them safely tucked away to keep ourselves and everyone else around us on solid ground?  Well, my skeleton got loose from his closet, got blackout shitfaced, went streaking, violated some personal spaces (including mine), drunk dialed people he shouldn't have, drunk dialed people that he should have, and wrecked a bathroom using the ten commandments as toilet paper.  I suppose we've all been there.  At least I like to pretend that everyone can relate... This is my biggest issue at the moment. As normal, I have reclused myself away from the world and have not dealt with any of it properly. Actually, I'm going to come clean here: I don't know how to deal with this properly. I have no idea. Do I call people and say I'm sorry? Do I cry in front of some people and beg for forgiveness in my humility? Do I run away? Yes... that sounds good, I'll do that. I'll just run away from it! ...[sob]
No doubt I have learned a few limits for myself.  That's the best news.  The whole experience has me questioning my inner self.  What do these drunken actions mean about my uninhibited desires?  People say that when you're drunk you are your truest self.  I don't know how that can be true.  I think that its not that simple.  When you're drunk, you're not allowed to protect yourself from making good long-term decisions. Its not about what you wanted to do drunk or don't want to do sober.  Does she look fat in those jeans? Well, yeah but I want to continue being friends with her in the future so normal circumstances dictate my answer to be the soft lie or the gentle let-down, drunken circumstances lead me down the short-term selfish path of blurting out how fat her ass always looks in all of her jeans.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Pantyhose: ethnography of an object

   Pantyhose have been a common western commodity since the 1960s.  These articles are created by a man, Ernest G. Rice, and patented in 1956.  Although these articles seem innocent and often practical, there is a deep rift of controversy and erotic connotations behind the scenes when it comes to the use and purpose of pantyhose.  Pantyhose were a big deal when they come out to replace the old style of stockings women wear to cover their legs while wearing skirts shorter than the ankle.  It was often the case that workplace and school uniforms required pantyhose as an article that women and girls are required to wear.  Hose are often worn by women to keep their legs warm or to help buffer the discomfort from shoes.  Some individuals like the way pantyhose can cover imperfections of the skin such as varicose veins, scars, and blemishes.
   Pantyhose begin to strike up controversy from the beginning.  Not only was Ernest G. Rice’s copyright and patent contested by other inventors of similar articles, but during the 1960s and 1970s was a strong wave of feminist thought that advocated boycotting articles such as the pantyhose and braziers (men’s inventions to suppress women).  The argument was that women should not have to use these articles to become the perfect sexual objects men desire.  This did not stop the hose from becoming a highly popular commodity up through the 1990s.  The hegemony of pantyhose had taken hold of western society.  With the turn of the century came the popular style of keeping legs bare, thus the pantyhose were no longer needed.  However, it is still currently fashionable to wear hose with formal wear and in the colder months tights become a fashionable way to keep legs warm.
   An unusual fashion for pantyhose has come to light recently: “mantyhose.”  These pantyhose for men may have started with the medical use of compression socks for vascular problems or they may have been spurred by the boon of keeping legs warm in addition to other types of pants.  This odd pantyhose fashion may have had a more erotic starting point.
   There has been a fetshization of pantyhose from the time of their creation.  An appeal to long, slender, hairless, and smooth legs was invigorated by the invention of pantyhose.  The sexualization of pantyhose was inevitable, and we can see that in the advertisements of the 1960s and 1970s.  It became an incredibly erotic sight to see a woman in nothing but pantyhose.  This interest also spurred a re-occurrence of images of women in the old fashion stockings and garter straps.  There is a tale of bondage and submission to be told about women encased in this hosiery.  The garments give a glimpse of the pressure the women are constantly under.  In the community of drag queens, pantyhose are necessary for the trade; to represent the female means to submit oneself to the pressures she lives with.  Some fetishists who wear pantyhose seek the pressure of being encapsulated by layers of nylon or spandex; full body stockings are popular for this kind of erotic game of dress-up.  Fetishists who enjoy wearing the hosiery often seek the tactile pleasure from the experience. "[Pantyhose] provide a certain amount of applied force, as if hundreds, perhaps thousands of hands were applying pleasure wherever the nylon touched or the nylon pulled away, leaving a split second vacuum only to reapply again." says Rantali, an internet fetish blogger.  Pantyhose have a history of being very soft and silky to the touch.  Fetishists who seek to put others into pantyhose may often extend the experience into a more direct form of bondage and literally tie up their partner using the hose.  Using the pantyhose for this purpose really removes the original function of the hose and changes them into a new object only with some residual memories of its previous form (Baudrillard).
   There is a movement of value in this commodity in the economic and the social markets.  In the past, pantyhose were a hot commodity and have recently lost the interest of the public; the economic value is depreciating due to changes in style.  The social value of the pantyhose is changing from respectable business woman garment to a drag queen’s #2 wardrobe necessity.  Though the business woman is not much different than the drag queen in that they both follow their interests and make money while looking good, there is a difference in the cultural groups in which they conduct business in.  The social capital accumulated by both individuals and their pantyhose can be high or low depending on the way they display their taste in hosiery (Bourdieu).  Taste is a big factor in how others are judged.  In a business setting, the drag queen’s attire (hose and all) are in bad taste, and vice versa, the business woman would not easily fit into a crowd of drag queens.  These two individuals remain connected through pantyhose and through the message each is trying to send out.  The business woman is trying to portray a figure of conservative and sexy feminine power.  The drag queen is also displaying sexy feminine power but with a campy style or over exaggerated femininity.
   Tasteful or tasteless, pantyhose are the hegemonic tool to make women perfect or they are the tools of the trade for a cross dressing man.  Used as clothing, medical apparatus, a face covering for convenience store robbers, or an erotic device of bondage, pantyhose fit well into many functional niches.

Monday, November 12, 2012


I can't get out of my house.  And that is not because its snowing like crazy out side.  Or is it? I haven't figured it out yet.  Whatever the case, I haven't been able to leave my house in days and every time I try I get so nauseous and uncomfortable.  I always had a fear when I was a child that I would be one of those people that becomes fully or slightly agoraphobic and a hermit.  Actually, the thought of just sitting safely at home with no worries or problems seems like a very nice lifestyle.  Snapping back to reality, I fully understand that I cannot perform most of my duties for school, work, or family sitting around all day.  I've got to leave some time.  But my problem is bigger than agoraphobia right now.  I have never really felt the stress and uncertainty of a school senior until this moment.  I always sided with the high school teachers who said the slackers were experiencing "senioritis" and they deserve to flunk and stay another year.  Am I a slacker? Is that really why I can't get out of bed in the morning or commit myself to the 1.5mi bike ride to class.  I can't seem to define what exactly I'm afraid of.  It might be the terrible cold, the lonely campus, the stupid bike ride, the boring class lecture, or maybe... maybe I'm afraid to graduate.  I'm afraid that once I have that diploma I am going to accrue all of these monstrous responsibilities that I've never had to deal with before.  I'm going to have things to take care of and it is uncertain right now that I will be able to care for anything.
I had a strange morning a few days ago where I sprung out of bed an hour early with panic in my heart and I began putting my unnecessary belongings (mostly clothing) into big black trash bags. All I could think was "I'm going to graduate and I'm not going to be able to find work; I'm going to be homeless. I need to downsize my belongings to fit in a portable duffle bag. Everything else has to go."  And I was crying because I so love all of my adorable little knick-knacks that decorate my home.  I was terribly sad that later I was going to have to replace everything I had worked for.  What if I stay homeless forever? What if my dog and I have to sleep under a freeway overpass for months because I can't find work?  I didn't throw these things away... yet.  I've decided to hold onto them until the last possible moment.  But all I need is another panicked morning to tip me over the edge.
I've told my academic adviser that I'm going to work for a few years before I can afford to continue onto graduate school; this is a white lie.  I am going to work to save up some money, however I do not really want to get a job related to Anthropology.  In fact, I would very much like to get a simple job for a few years, like being a clerk at a department store or a waitress at Applebee's. I'm so incredibly burnt out on this subject field that I am getting to the point where I want nothing to do with it.  I've come up with several places to send my full academic resume so that my academic adviser will be satisfied, however I do not really intend to pursue these jobs.  I have the know-how to jump back into the scholarly world once I've roamed for a while.  I just want to be somewhere where I have the fewest responsibilities, a get paid just enough to get by, and maybe put a little in the bank.
Maybe one of you, my readers, can tell me what to do about this senioritis.  How can I shake it? Or how can I cope with it? Any experiences yourself?

Monday, October 29, 2012

Save us Aquaman!

Before you prematurely judge me, take a moment to keep your mind open.  I have an honest request for the filmmakers in Hollywood: Aquaman movie.  There is no better time than now to release an awesome action-packed super hero movie about a merman trying to save the world.  Think about it. Impending doom is upon the United States east coast.  Who better to save the people of New York and... Jersey... from the monstrosity known as Sandy.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Slow in the cold

Its time to complain about the cold weather. And... Okay that's my two cents.
My biggest concern right now is that I have no computer of my own at the moment and I'm really stressing about not having one around me. Its one thing to procrastinate on homework... but it feels really wrong when you are forced to wait until the last minute to do the assignment because you don't have access to a word processor and printer until the hour before the deadline. I have to write these essays longhand and then ride my bike all the way to campus just to type and print them up.  I've been taking this time alone to ponder things like "why do all these TV channels suck ass?" and "why haven't I spent more time with these awesome couches in my living room?" and "Shin splints? No, this is metacarpal splints from writing with a real life pencil." I think my writer's callous is going to make a come back. I haven't seen that thing since 6th grade.  Of course a computer failure would happen at the moment in my life when I have $15 to my name, cabbage soup on the stove, and holes in my clothes.  I'm praying for a swift death, or a winning lotto stub in my street gutter.  I've been preparing for the worst, so if I do become homeless in the next few months I'm ready with tent, outdoor gear, cardboard signs, and canned beans ready to go at any moment. Who needs a computer when you're living under a freeway overpass, right?
I'm glad to be an American. I can honestly say, voting is fun.  Its like taking an exam, only you're choosing the answers... except that the bubbles you fill in don't always seem to make it out in the election.  So maybe its exactly like taking an exam, except you're ridiculed by others if your choice is the winner. But hey, its great being able to use your favorite black ink pen to mark the bubble next to some guy with an awesome last name and thinking to yourself "If I married a man like that, I too would have an awesome last name!"  But aside from the silly little myths I play out in my mind about the political candidates, I also take into consideration things like "am I supporting too many democrats... or republicans? What if this guy turns out to be a serial killer?!" Well the serial killer thing is fine I suppose, because I do support the death penalty; that would be putting my values to work in my own country.  I like to have balance in my ballot. Not too many women, not too many democrats. Not too many religious zealots, and not too many loose cannons.  None of the persons I can vote for are not going to get me out of my social injustices and poverty so I might as well have a good time filling in those stupid little bubbles!
A writer writes.  Being away from a digital screen has sparked my imagination in a way that brings back memories of grade school and spending countless hours creating stories about monsters and vampires and sultry love scenes.  This is how the mind of a child is formed while being immersed in Anne Rice culture from as early as 11 years old.  I don't doubt that it has lead to the very provocative and often vulgar way I operate now, but it has also created a sturdy base for intellectual prowess.  I like to think that my energetic youth as a bookworm has created me as the scholar I am today.  Books are bad ass and when I get out of this stupid restrictive lifestyle as a college student I am going to read some more books. I miss reading books the way I used to... Now I only have time to read the assignments of my professors, reading and grading freshman essays, and reading my own essays for proof.  I've lost the ability to sit down and let my eyes caress a raunchy pulp romance paperback and let my olfactory sense get high on the smell of ink and paper.  I'm frustrated, I'm stagnating, and I'm really antsy to get going with something of my choosing.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Happy anniversary Karinamania!

 Congratulations, we've kept it going for three whole years now.  With  three years of experience I still don't know what I'm doing here. I have to admit it is nice to be able to have this one amorphous blog to stick to. My other blogs are certainly more topic focused, and that's useful for things like getting web hits, friendly shares, and money; but Karinamania really has something personal to it.  It has allowed me to keep all of my long-distance friends to stay in touch with what I'm up to these days and it also offers a perfect platform for venting and sharing my opinions that often need more than three lines of text in a Facebook status.  This blog has been the all-telling story of a struggling college student in the Pacific Northwest and a budding archaeologist to boot.  I'm sure you can tell though, that this blog does not focus on my academics, for that you will have to read something like this (Culture Environments).  I'm so close to finishing my second serving of college and jump into a more real world.  So lets keep this together and move into the next round together.

In other news: this has been an awful week.  I don't want to gripe too much but I'm really feeling the withdrawals.  My good ol' laptop has finally limped to an end.  Using these school computers is not the best relief to my hunger for technology.  I mean, looking at porn is a whole new experience while using a computer in the school library; your adrenaline rushes every time you have to look over your shoulder for other looky-loos.  Haha I'm just kidding.  Now I have to work on getting a new computer. I'm thinking since I'm going to be out of school for a little while, a desktop PC might be what I need instead of the portable laptop. How I'm going to pay for that is going to be a sad story for the next several years. Its going to be stacked in with all these school loans I'm going to have to pay back. And don't get me started on how much I hate the financial aid office here on campus, my fellow schoolmates I'm sure can agree the heart of ultimate evil in this world resides in the financial aid offices around the country. Good news here is that I may not have to worry about dealing with a financial aid office for a while! Woot!
I'm currently preparing myself to enter the work world. I'm going to be primping my resumé and working on acquiring the needed certifications such as CPR, first aid, AED, and food handling.  I should also consider how to get my driver's licensing completed. My father has told me that soon he is going to be getting rid of his 1987 VW Jetta, and I have asked for it.  There seems like so much to do and time is fast approaching.
I'm probably going to have to set up a way to move to the Seattle area and crash for a couple weeks while I slave away finding work.  All of this scary-unknown future stuff makes graduation really terrifying.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

My muse

Clio muse of HistoryI've been excited to start working in a museum setting, and now that has come to fruition.  I've pretty much completed the required credits for my B.S. degree in Anthropology and now I have the ability to work on my minor degree in Museum Studies.  I've had my field experience with archaeology, now I'm taking a go at working with museum collections and exhibits.  I have joined in a group exhibit project that will be opening soon.  It's going to be a display of archaeological finds here on the CWU campus.  Most of the artifacts are very small and seemingly insignificant at first, however the context from which they have been recovered is really neat.
What I'm really learning from this project is a personal enjoyment for the curation and management of museums. I'm really glad that I have come to find this career path because its a perfect fit for me.  Keeping things managed, organized, and shared with the public is definitely somethings I can do on a daily basis.  Now I will be tested soon on how to really make an exhibit work for the audience.  We'll see how well I do at that, otherwise I'll just have to sit back and stick to the behind-the-scenes object management and curation.  Maybe when I'm a well-seasoned museum professional I can take part in those fancy schmoozey wine & cheese museum events; now that would make my life complete.
I'm thinking about the possibility of taking a year or two off from school. I'm really starting to feel burnt out; even though I love school and I love anthropology... maybe I just want to sit still for a couple years and do something stupid like work as a waitress or delivering newspapers.  Since I've been in school I've known that there was a mental plateau that I would eventually come onto. My professors always told me this was impossible and I just needed to study harder in order to understand those concepts that are beyond me. Well they are obviously beyond my level of mental capabilities, so they wouldn't really understand.  I am no genius and I know that for a fact.  I'm not going to give up on my BS degree or my Museum minor degree; but the afterwards... maybe I want to be a real person for a little while.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Nothing but skin

I found this little never-before-published golden nugget of mine, written on May 8, 2011. I'd like to share.

"Nothing but skin" 
All creatures at some point feel the undeniable need for procreation. The pure desire is primitive and nearly unavoidable. Humans are one of the few creatures known for their sexual greed. We lust for another but lack the basic principal driving the body’s craving for procreation. We desire to become intimate with another for the sole purpose of pure pleasure. What exactly is this feeling of pure pleasure that we pursue so convictedly? All I can describe of this pure pleasure is the moment in time when another is the cause of a single full body seizure when time stops and I can experience a paradise of physical, emotional, and spiritual peace. It is only the complete destruction of my mind, body, and soul and it’s entire reformation all at once. There are not enough words to describe this moment of climax. Everyone desires to experience this feeling, which isn’t simply just a feeling, but actually an act of being. Everyone wants to experience this while sharing their personal space with a loved one. A true and essentially complete orgasm can only be experienced while symbiotically existing on a person level of space and time created by being intimately related with another person. The state of mind is essential to the climax of the body as well as the spiritual connection of the soul. Sexual partners must feel an absolute connection mentally, physically, and spiritually. Out aura becomes a single mass; this demonstrates peace. We must be entwined with each other to become as close as possible. Just the simple feel of skin can be overwhelmingly sensual, not to mention the smell or taste of it. The orgasm is the five senses gone mad. A feeling of freedom, a feeling most women scream at in pleasure. And who wouldn’t scream for such an experience? Not even the idiots can deny the craving for sex. A force stronger than Love itself? Maybe so. Love is only a stepping-stone in this day and age. Love is overrated. Girls grow up thinking Prince Charming is real. The only thing that is real is the fear of reality itself, which eventually drives women to rationally of irrationally seek pure pleasure; sexual interactions which mesh together reality and fantasy. To seek something specific in an orgasm is a false hope, and will spoil the inevitability of succumbing to the freedom of climax. The search for late-night fantasy ends here. The road to sexual freedom and the complete release of spiritual and mental waste such as stress, tension, and illness is now set before you.

Monday, October 1, 2012


Its one thing to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, but its another thing entirely to wake up completely pissed off about someone else from the day before. I don't like how someone can control me like that.  At first it was a moment of feeling bossed around, then it felt like dictated censorship, then it just felt like a blatant attack on my personal rights and space.  Now that I've stewed on the occurrence, it has only gotten more difficult to keep a lid on.  I want to be able to say that she should have been able to come to me privately and discuss the issue only between us, but I know better. I know I would have gotten just as upset with her had she done that or how she had gone straight to a third party for mediation.  I suppose she had to do what she did for her own protection. I mean, I'm sure she wanted to save face (literally and figuratively).
On a very related topic, how do you feel about breasts? Really, are they offensive to you? Some people seem to think that an uncovered breast is pornography. Others may see them as beautiful symbols of ultimate femaleness.  I can't be silent on this one. Boobs are fantastic. I've known breasts all my life--from the day I was born, actually--and they are here with me until the day I die.  My children will be comfortable with breasts, my grandchildren will be comfortable with breasts, will you?  My morals tell me that a breast ought to be cared for, enjoyed, and shared.  I support public breast feeding. I support breasts in art. I support breast cancer awareness.  If you don't know anything about breasts, I suggest you take an anatomy class--then go take an art class--then take a gender studies class--then go to a strip club.  Respect them, don't reject them.
My breasts are a part of me but I don't hog them all to myself.  I like to wear a low cut shirt here and there.  For fucks sake I would walk around topless if there weren't so many goddamn laws against my boobies.  Legalize them!
Devil's advocate here: now how would you spread awareness of breast freedom when there are children around?  First I'm going to ask why you think its okay to hide [God's creation] the breast, from children in the first place.  Making something "off limits" is what starts this cycle of hostility towards the unknown. The more you know, the more you grow.  Start with the basics; children, these are breasts and they produce milk for babies. Then go to the next level; when adult men seek female mates they may choose a female with larger breasts because that shows that she has an ideal capacity for carrying and nursing babies. And beyond that? Children, sometimes breasts are important erogenous zones during lovemaking, it is your choice whether or not to give attention to them during intercourse with your partner.  Children are smarter than you know.
I certainly don't want anyone soap-boxing their dogmas onto my breasts. Get that misogynistic religious shit out of here.  The moment you realize that your religion has imposed those feelings of "uncomfortableness" and "inappropriateness" onto you and you break free from those juvenile and close-minded bonds; then you may come to me. I may forgive you then. But until then, stay away you hypocritical harlot. I know you've sucked more dicks than I have... and that's saying something, amirite?

Sunday, September 30, 2012

You're so far away

I'm not sure if anything has really changed at all, but I feel like I have.  I'm getting frustrated right now and I keep wanting to blame the stagnation of life in Ellensburg.  I'm starting to really feel done with this place. I'm starting to feel like I'm ready to move on. But that's just it, I really don't like moving and I'm stubborn enough to not want to leave here just for the sake of not having to go somewhere new.  Getting my minor in Museum Studies is going to be a piece of cake, the only hard part is that its not going to be a fast process. I suppose if I crammed everything into next quarter (which is possible I suppose) I could just pick up and leave here around March.  But do I really want to do that? It will be all snowy and cold still... And what will I do about getting work? Gah... everything is so hard these days.
After completing my field school this past summer, I feel like I have everything I need to move on with my educational goals. What are these goals? They seem to be so fleeting and transparent these days.
I wish there was a way to just sign up for an adult life without having to establish one myself. A pre-made life... I'll take one of those. I'm not in the mood for doing all the work required to make my own life. Or can I just have someone else's? You know, if they aren't using it I'll just take it off their hands.
 Ellensburg has the same people that I know and love, and yet, they don't have the right people.  The people I have been so used to hanging out with just seem to be a bit boring and repetitive.  The flavor of friends isn't so new this year.  When I go to sit at the lunch table I feel like there is nothing for me there.  Before, I had certain things that I always looked forward to seeing at the usual hangout spots.  There was a thrill to it; there was a chase and and chance that those elusive friends might or might not be there. I feel like the real people I want to be near to are the ones who aren't in Ellensburg any more.  I suppose while I'm here I will just have to work with what I've got for now.  Maybe I'll just take this opportunity to bury my head into my schoolwork until I drown in it.  I'll make a few close acquaintances within my field of study and then I won't have to leave the building for anything except to go home in the evenings. My dog should appreciate my coming home at night. I love how she's always so happy to see when I'm home from school.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

I'm sorry I smell like frosting

Common Ground Cupcakes and Coffee, Renton, WA
So I think I can officially qualify myself and admit that I am a true-cut cupcake addict.  What is it that takes over my mind when I see a cupcake shop? I could be starving or I could be violently ill, nothing stops me from entering a cupcake shop when I see one.  I'm a cupcake consuming juggernaut.  I've decided that I will accept nothing less than a tower of cupcakes for my birthday 'cakes' in the future. Any other reason I need for a cake, only cupcakes will be acceptable.

Frosted, Walla Walla, WA
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not going to be wearing cupcake earrings or cupcake print socks or a bra that makes my tatas look like frosted cupcakes... well, I'd consider the latter. But what I'm trying to say, there is a very thick and obvious line between enjoying these tasty morsels and being obsessed with the cute little mini-cakes they represent.  I will devour a cupcake in an instant before I or anyone else will have enough time to admire the cuteness of the object.  As I consume this bite of cake, I will admire the creativity and effort that has gone into the respectable appearance of it. It is a work of culinary art and really gets me excited about the flare and inspiration that has a major role in its recipe.
I submitted to a cupcake today. It really was a complete release and reliquishment of all of my power. This is not the first, nor last time this has happened or will happen.  Dammit I just love cupcakes and I will do anything it takes to get more!

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

That which comes next

So what happens when one loses sight of what they thought they were pursuing?  Well I thought studying to be an archaeologist and getting familiar with the museum management process would be nice and easy.  Funny thing, it was.  But now I'm utterly confused with what I'm going to do after my degree.  I'm not doing very well at supporting myself at this point and now I'm treading water in this sink hole called my life.  So I've come up with a comforting process of reviewing all of my past aspirations such as being a teacher, CGI artist, entomologist, ballerina, police officer, and even the military.  I agree that is a very colorful list.
I've been lingering on the thought of the military though.  That's one thing I very nearly went through with after high school.  I never did it because I wasn't really healthy enough and I didn't feel comfortable signing my life away without being able to make real adult decisions.  But now... I feel differently.  The structured lifestyle is seeming to be much more appealing.  I've never wanted a typical 9 to 5 job, but I would like to have a career that is very regularized and predictable.  Archaeology, although very non-9to5ish, is not always predictable, and is sometimes very unproductive.  I like to assume the military has figured out how to be somewhat productive.
So now I have to ponder "can I do it?" and the easy answer to that is yes.  There will be physical challenges that I never dreamed of. Luckily the mental challenges don't scare me.
Treadmill here I come...

June bugging

Summer is going to be a very interesting time.  Hopefully I can get my shit together in the next week.  I'm currently finishing up the quarter with final essays, I've gotta pay some bills, and I still haven't found a replacement roommate.  Not that I've got anything against females--okay, yeah, I do have a prejudice against females; but I really don't want to room with one. Unfortunately it seems like no one else wants female roommates either because they are all out there hungering for flesh and a place to live. I've only had one guy call me about the room and he immediately detracted his interest when he heard I was a chick (his loss).  I figure every time someone calls me and says "yeah i'm interested in the place" it actually means that they think I'm a stuck up bitch like the rest of my female cohorts and they'd rather eat class than live with me.  Ugh... all you cunts ruin it for the rest of us.  Okay, I got that rant out; I'm  done.
So its becoming harder and harder to initiate anything and everything at school.  I wish there was an energy drink for educational morale.  I want to do an extra curricular project on campus, I want to get my Museum Minor ducks in a row, and I want to start getting better grades.  However, things are so sluggish in my head that I'm having a hard time keeping my attention focused on the task at hand. I keep trying to deviate from my work with all the distractions.  I remember last year when being focused on a task was no problem because I was in love with the new topics and concepts.  I'm starting to feel the repetition within my department.  I can't remember what class is what these days because they all feel like the same damn thing for hours and hours everyday.  I'm afraid that this is going to become a bigger issue in my life.  What happens when I get settled into my career dream job (whatever that is at this point) and I get fed up with the repetition and the same thing year in and year out? If I could just win the lottery and stay in school for the rest of my life and get a new degree every few years or so, ah that would be great.  I just want to learn everything.
By the way, I'm super excited that I have an exam mini essay to write about these lovelies.  Compound eyes are primitive sight sensory tools that no other member of the same family, Nicoletiidae, have evolved to.  They much on starches such as paper, adhesive, cloth, hair, and dandruff. Nom nom nom, the silverfish are coming to eat all of your stuff! Museums beware...

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Disappointed devil

I've been waiting almost a decade for the third installment of an awesome video game, and now its here.  Excitement ensues? Well ya, but there is a bitter aftertaste to this dessert.
Diablo 3 has announced a new feature by which players will have the ability to choose between two different auction houses, one that strictly uses the gold currency of Sanctuary the fantasy world, and one that uses your USD ($).  I do not agree with this concept entirely. I say, a great idea but there is a grave error that will create a rift between players who will pay more for the best and those who cannot pay and will never get the best. Have a scenario to chew over:
This is you profiting in $AH
{Well lets say you find item X, and this item is fucking awesome sauce but you cant use it. so the thing to do is sell it. now you have to decide, do you sell it for gold or RL monies? HELL YA you want the real deal. Now, little me comes along and I would very much like to have that item but i have not been lucky enough to find it on my own. so the thing to do is buy it. now i have to decide: gold or money? well, I cant really be spending my hard earned paycheck on fantasy items (i can only work so many corners to cover the rent ya know), so I go to the gold AH. low and behold... the gold AH does not have the item.
Now, Mr. Richy Rich (a fictitious 3rd person to this scenario) also wants that fracking awesome item X. He has plenty of his over-supportive (and live-in) parents' USDs in his paypal acct. So he goes straight to RL money AH and buys item X, no sweat. You profit, he wins, and I lose.}
Bad internet people are bad; never assume that they will do something charitable, like putting item X on the game-gold AH (no benefit to themselves in RL).
I dont have the ability to free myself of my monetary restrictions, therefore I am only allowed access to the shit people put on the goldAH. all the shit they dont care as much about.
My solution is simple and wouldn't really bother too many people. Separate these options to their own servers/realms.  Those who choose to use real money can have their own world to play and profit. Those of us who cannot use the real money function can be left in our own world and left to our own market system without the overpowered weight of real money.
I don't trust the other people out there and I sure as hell don't trust them with my real money. Hell I don't even trust Blizzard or especially PayPal when it comes to using my cash.  We asked for diablo, well folks, we got it and he's here to rape us, steal from us, and kick us while we're down; I hope you paid the right price for that body armor.

On another note, I seemed to have thought it was a good idea to run for the president of CGI for the next school year.  Video game club, are you ready for this Femme Fetale?

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Xibalba, adventure through

The path I have been following has become a bit overgrown, brambled, and difficult to navigate.  Someone hand me a flashlight please.  The amount of school work I've had to do is increasing to an incredible level and it's nowhere near the level cap.  I'm a little worried that I am losing steam for the adventure through school.  The last thing I want is to get burnt out on something I love to do.  What I want is security and stability, and what if I can't situate myself properly? I'm not sure what to do.  I want to do so many things while I am still in school, because I will have a harder time doing them later, however, the more I put on my plate, the more I just want to pick up and just go travel the world for a year or something crazy like that.
Dreams of far away places are not the only things star-crossing my mind.  I also have many an image of settling down and establishing a comfortable home where I can relax and have carefree afternoons.  All of this worry and conflict is driving me crazy at the moment.  I can't do this moody sleeping-in-and-I-don't-care-about-the-world every morning.  I need to find a way to get past that and realize that I can't retire quite yet, I have a few requirements to meet for that still.
I have a dilapidating fear.  A fear of leaving school. A fear of what happens after the degree is over.  I mean, I know the world of work is awaiting my expertise and talents... but that sounds so boring.  No one wants boring.  My career field is filled with many interesting things, but I'm quickly learning that if you want to be a part of the interesting projects you need to be a fucking rock star, and until that day (the same day pigs will be granted viable flying mechanisms) you are going to be doing the little menial jobs in the windowless basement.
I'm coming against conflict with my academic advisor and I have little--rather, no argument for my case.  He says lithic analysis is the key to the future of archaeological research. My mind says lithic analysis is a colorless and arithmatic analysis of archaeological materials.  Don't get me started on that pile of debitage.  I can't just tell him that his dissertation topic is a steaming pile of shit and I'd rather not touch it with a ten foot pole.  The scholar demands a bit of logical reasoning for any of my disagreements. I have nothing except that I would just rather study the stone cold bodies of ancient Greek and Roman marble statues, rock art, herioglyphics, paleo-lithic weaponry, or Mediterranean maritime trade of all ages.  I wouldn't mind visiting South America and doing some cave diving and experience the true feeling of being in Xibalba for myself.
My school doesn't offer classes or many resources for me to study these interests.  Pacific Northwest Native American tribes are much more important in this area for obvious reasons.  However it is sad that I must study these PNW topics at the whims of my professors because I don't have the financial means to travel or study independently.
Also, I think I am going to nut up and officially sign up for the Museum Studies minor. Le sigh.
I suppose for now, the best thing I can do is muddle through until I have received my degree and hope that life after school is not just a walk straight into my grave.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Bill of girlfriend rights

So I've come upon something that I need to announce to all my friends, and I figure a blog post might be an appropriate medium.
My boyfriend and I have been dating for over a month now.  We're still a new-ish couple, so there are things that are not part of our repitoire of actions.  We are also not a completely conventional couple, so yes, some of these common couple 'rights' are not going to be part of our relationship ever.  A particular range of abilities that I have chosen to not take part in include the following: nagging, hovering, controlling, mothering, smothering, stalking, inappropriate PDA, mooching, and squatting.  For some reason, many of my friends have assumed that because I am his girlfriend I will always know where he's at or what he's doing 24/7.  I do not know where he is all the time, nor do I care enough to know.  If you are a friend that assumes I know where my boyfriend is 24/7 you can stop assuming that right now.  You may ask me if he went to class today, and my answer is 'dunno' because its true.  If he wants to skip every damn class and just sit at home like a bump on a log, fine.  I mean, that sucks for him because that won't work for long... but if that's how it is, so be it.  I'm not his conjoined twin, I'm his girlfriend.  I also do not text or call him every few minutes to say 'where are you?' or 'just thinking about you.'  Not only is it completely silly but there is a level of pointlessness to it, he is terrible at responding to messages (something I can relate to). No, I cannot help you get a hold of him.  What should I do for you? Pull up his coordinates on a GPS from that tracking chip I put in him? You=crazy.  I don't nag. I don't give a flying rat's ass if my boyfriend has the dirtiest home in this entire college town. As long as his mess stays off my stuff, I couldn't care less. So you don't need to complain to me about his living habits in the hopes that I will be able to change him.  If he borrowed your stuff and you want it back, I don't know why you're asking me about it.  Take your problems to him directly, it might be more effective.  A home is a sacred place, sure, but sometimes getting lost in a mess can be comforting.  Hell, you should see my house around finals week, a health inspector would have cardiac arrest on the spot.
There are certain things I want my boyfriend to reciprocate, and he does. I don't want:  nagging, hovering, mooching, or squatting.  These things include knowing where I'm at and who I'm with 24/7. If I don't want it done to me, I choose not to do it to him.  He's a big boy, he can do things on his own without my constant pushing and heckling.  My boyfriend fills certain desires for me and those desires do not include the duties of a maid service, page boy, secretary, or servant.  If you believe him to be one of those things for you, by all means nag the crap out of him; I strongly believe he has never taken up any of these positions with anyone other than his mother.
Now that you may understand these things a little better, you can respect my relationship more effectively. Also, I'm sorry if this upsets you because I'm not talking to you personally, its just that a lot of people have been bugging me about the things my boyfriend does. Hopefully this may help deter any future misunderstandings.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Good show, gents

Eating ice cream, listening to love songs, and writing my blog; could my night get any better? Well yes, but that's not the point.  I want to mention that I had a pretty good time at a bad-ass double birthday party last night. Of course the party guests were all getting a bit booze crazy later in the evening but that's not entirely a bad thing.  You can learn a lot about a person by the way that they act when they are drunk.  As weird as it may sound, I connected with a few of my closest friends on a really deep level thanks to alcohol. I mean, I take the drunk things they say with a grain of salt, but if you read between the lines you can see what they are truly saying to you.
I want to take a little time to give a shout out to my sweetheart of a boyfriend, who even in the throws of a drunken tantrum, he can still take a moment to give me a kiss and tell me how much he cares about me.  I think that is really cool and I think that shows how much I mean to him on a deep level.  I'm always on edge when it comes to saying the right thing at the right time.  I just want to make sure I don't throw "Love" out there at an inappropriate moment, or even worse, when the feeling is not reciprocated.  Moments like that can be either very bonding or very awkward. I try to avoid the awkwardness.  Thankfully, my boyfriend was able to crash through the awkward barrier for us both.  Now if you're a person who knows us both, you may be thinking of a question along the lines of "Now these two started dating a little under a month ago... is it normal to be talking about 'love'?" My answer to you is simple, there are things here that are a long-time brewing over the past several months if not longer. Don't worry, I'm not too crazy here.  I have an appreciation for letting our feelings marinate before serving them for dinner, if you know what I mean. I certainly do not have any history in matters of deep infatuation, so I am being very cautious currently.

Monday, February 20, 2012

1Doz. red strippers--I mean roses.

The conclusion to my lovely Valentine's Day Rose saga ended with a bang.  My admirer finally announced his identity to me after two weeks of leaving mysterious roses on my doorstep.  My announcement after all of this is: I agreed to his proposal to go steady.
At first I was a little weary of this lothario to motion to initiate a serious relationship because we had been spending time together for the past year under the context of keeping our infatuations out of it all.  I mean, I admit it was a bit difficult for me to follow these rules we established.  It's hard not to start up something that is so incredibly fun, and not get caught up in the risks.  So when my willpower failed I would meditate on all the reasons why the rules of engagement are important and I would cleanse myself of any lust or jealousy.  Around the end of January I had made quite a bit of headway with a few other suitors and I really stopped worrying about any woes brought on by my valentine.  When he asked for a serious relationship I was surprised and unsure of what I really wanted, but I knew that this was something I really couldn't walk away from.
After having a couple days to think deeply about what I want to accomplish on a personal level in the next few years, I've decided that because its impossible to see whether the future holds tragedy or fortune all I can do is live in the moment and cheerfully hope that all goes well.  Of course, I don't want to start out making terrible decisions that will obviously end badly, but I don't want to make an instant flip-flop on my current lifestyle (none of us want that culture shock that is often experienced when leaving Karinamania).  I don't know if either of us are really ready to go head first into the cold waters of getting tied down by the relationship red tape; but I also have to weigh in the likely possibility of going down the slippery slope of reckless freedoms.  We all know how fragile the line can be between "I'm okay with this" and "I am deeply hurt by this."  I've got a plan that might be the solution to my problem, but I think I'm going to sleep on it, just in case I haven't thought of all the possible consequences.  I suppose making an informed decision may make or break my success.
I have an honest smile on my face right now, and I can feel a strong glow in my heart, so deep down I think I know I'm experiencing some good things right now. I like this. I am happy.
I also can't avoid giving a shout out to my bestest breast friend forever, Gwen, who got engaged on Valentines Day.  This is so exciting and I don't want to sound really selfish, but I'm going to be a little (and by 'little' I mean 'a lot') bummed out if I don't make the cut for Maid of Honor. This is a life goal I cannot miss my chance for.  I'm already planning the rumble in the jungle bridal shower/bachelorette party. Finally I can have my stripper and eat it too--CAKE! I meant to say cake... dammit.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Beau♥, beau♥, black sheepX

Its an interesting life, this one of mine.  Around the new year I decided I wanted to make myself a bit more appealing in a way that would bring the attention of men with the purpose of having a more serious and monogamous relationship.  An interesting turn of events has spun my tables in a completely different direction.  I was having a hard time sticking to my rigid new year's "resolution." Instead of dropping all of my inamoratos, I've come to acquire a few more.  I always hate when I have to drop one because my schedule, emotions, and energy just can't support them all; I also hate when I have to drop one because there just isn't any chemistry or connection coming from within me.  I hate loosing them, and that's because I really hate loosing the possibility to get attention from them.  Well, at least it seems to be following the theory of "one door closes and another one opens."  I'm enjoying being able to spend (exactly the perfect amount of) time with each of my gentlemen friends each day of the week.  I can't explain why or how these circumstances befall me.  Sometimes I'm just so excited to see my swain... so excited to feel his touch--I don't realize that I've gone over the edge with him until later when I have had time to cool my jets and contemplate the day.  Sometimes I wonder if my heart doesn't know how to work right.  I feel the rush of the moment, and I feel the farthest reaches of my passion, but I don't know how to make feelings last any longer.  I've felt those stirrings that poets have been repeating over the ages, but I'm always left with an empty and lonely shell of a heart once the date ends.  I'm finding myself always in a state of wild anticipation until the next man stumbles onto my doorstep.  I'm the witch living in the candy cottage waiting for the next victim to submit to her delicious temptations.  I really and truly enjoy the company of  these gentlemen, and I can't wait until the next time I get to spend time with one.  Its become the high (the addiction) I've been avoiding for years.  My starstruck eyes have not been able to determine if the path I travel truly is a dangerous one; but my brain tells me its a fool's hope to wish otherwise.  Well, I suppose I could send out an S.O.S. now; if someone knows a good way for me to save myself from impending doom, please let me know (until then, I guess I'll just have to continue enjoying my playtime like a good stack of fresh-hot brownies).
Its not just men I've been hoping to share my affections with.  I've been so overjoyed lately at the activities that I've been able to enjoy with female accompaniment.  I don't know what my aprehension is when it comes to connecting with other women.  I just get really nervous and sometimes feel a little intimidated when I try to strike up a friendship with them.  If only someone could just tell me the secret to being able to talk to women, all my inner struggles will be solved.  I really do love being able to spend time with the ladies.  I really like listening to all the stories and adventures that energize their hearts and their hatred.  There is always a lurking desire to have a few lady friends that I can trust to be reliable and stable.  Honestly, I'm trying really hard to keep my motivation to seek out this female companionship.  I don't want fear to overcome me this time.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Losing my voice

Being sick has a very strange effect on how I converse with my friends. Since I am physically unable to speak while I'm ill, I have only the ability to really listen very well and occasionally make grandiose facial expressions or gestures.  I've been doing a lot of eye contact (something I'm not very good at) and I've found that its actually really nice being able to just stare into people's eyes. Of course a couple people have been a bit confused as to why I'm staring, but I can only answer with a written note 'I'm just listening.' At first I was going a little crazy because there was so much I wanted to say, so many times I wanted to pitch in my two cents, but getting used to watching other people talk and listening to what they say without my usual interjections is certainly holding my attention.
I still feel like shit, and I hope I can get all of this school work done before Tuesday. I have papers to grade and I admit I haven't had the energy to look at what assignments are due. Currently I have no plans to attend class on Tuesday, this will only change if I am actually feeling better then.
I wish there was someone I could convince to come walk my dog for me. Poor BB has had to be mostly inside while I just sit here and rot away.
And without any further ado here is my saga of sickness with the perfect climax of grossness...

I get sick very rarely, but when I do its always completely dilapidating.  This time is no different.  I get strep throat fair often, and when I say that it means once every other year but its really the only sickness that has the gumph to take me down.  Now, all of my symptoms are those that I immediately recognize as strep throat, so I had no doubt that I needed to head to the doc, grab some antibiotics, and be on my merry way. This time would not be so easy.
The campus RN says the strep quick test was negative, therefore she felt antibiotics were not an answer. Ugh, now I'm not an idiot, I'm not one of those people that thing antibiotics are going to solve all of my sniffles and sneezes.  I'm smart enough to know that the fat puss filled balls a.k.a. my tonsils needed antibiotic assistance, so (without her innitiation of the process) I demanded a throat culture be made. She seemed to be a little surprised that I understood the words that fell from my mouth.  She says it will take two days to grow the culture, well damn I suppose I can suffer for two more days and by then they will realize that my malady is in fact a bacterial infection and they can pull their heads out of their asses and shoot me with some penicillin. They end up inviting me back to the office the next day to speak with the M.D. all he tells me is that he suspects a viral infection (nothing to treat those but pain killers) and he suggests taking some progesterone (steroid) to reduce the swelling so I can at least eat some food.  I didn't want that, not only because I really felt that it wasn't viral, but I also really didn't want to take steroids.
Anyways, I force myself to go to class for the next several days because I cannot allow myself to miss out on the first week of classes.  The worst part of that mess was when I was feeling so terrible shitty in my Museum Exhibit Design class that I was literally nodding off every few moments, and the teacher feels the need to single me out and ask me every question throughout lecture "And what do you think about this, Karina?" when there are plenty of my peers with eagerly raised hands ready to answer; and I have no voice--I CANNOT SPEAK! and he says "what's that? speak up." and I squeeze out an extremely painful weeze: "Sorry sir, I've lost my voice [I tell him this everytime he calls on me].  My opinion is that the museum would benefit from...."  My guess is that he is either trying to single me out and mock me for falling alseep, or that he actually really likes how I answer his questions, or he is just as saddistic as I think he is and enjoys watching me tear up and wince as I force the words past my searing tonsil-juggernauts.
By Friday morning I'm feeling the worst that I have all along, and still I've had no call back about the supposed '2-day culture.' So I take the initiative and call the docs to ask about it.  The RN was unnavailable at first but she called me back a few minutes later and told me the culture isn't ready yet, but I sound completely miserable and hardly recognizable over the phone and she invites me back to the office once more.  I'm so glad that I've got friends who care about me, because I really didn't want to walk all the way to the docs.  When I get to the office I use my notepad and pen to communicate for most of the visit because the smallest little hum feels like the center of our fiery sun.  They are shocked to see how huge my tonsils are now, literally choking off my air supply and I have to painfully hold my throat open every moment of this day (this is why I haven't been able to sleep, having little dreams of being strangled and waking up to find that I really am being strangled--by my tonsils).  At the office they take a decent sized blood sample to test for mononucleosis.  The M.D. is back at this point telling me it is imperative that I take the progesterone at this point so I can eat, drink water, and at the very least breathe. I'm okay with it at this point because I'm so exhausted and so hungry.  Blood test comes back, no mono (thank goodness!!) but it does show a bacterial infection. Hah! I wanted to jump up and scream TOLD YA SO! But that wasn't going to happen.  So they give me antibiotics and progesterone.  In my opinion this is the best choice they've made in all along.  But since the clinic isn't open this weekend or on Monday I'm going to have to be careful, if things get worse I'm going to have to go to a real doctor's office and I don't have the money to afford an adventure like that.
Friday night was great because I forced myself to slurp down a ton of noodles and afterward I got the best sleep I've gotten in two weeks, a whole six hours of sleep! On average I had been getting maybe two or three before waking up to breathe or in excruciating pain.  So this morning I'm feeling pretty well rested, but I'm having a hard time finding my appetite.  I've got this nasty "after taste" looming in my mouth, so food my look delicious but when I try to gobble this oatmeal it just tastes like nastiness.  I go to investigate a bit using a tongue depressor and a little LED flashlight I peer back in my mouth to find out a strange sight. [warning: graphic descriptions]
The only way I can describe this is that my left tonsil (is smaller than yesterday, and I suppose that's good) has a large depression on the back side, surrounded by the familiar white puss, but coming from the depression is gooey brown and yellow mucus-like stuff.  I understand this may have been a not-so-good decision but I stuck a q-tip back in there and out comes two chunks of... tonsil flesh? Chunks of something.  White-ish gray-ish fleshy blobs peel off my tonsil and stick to my q-tip.  No blood, just brown-ish gooey stuff.  I get a little freaked out so I no longer have any plans to go poking around in my tonsils again.  In general I'm feeling a smidge better today, so I'll be sad if this is just the clam before the storm and I end up having a flesh eating bacterial infection.