Welcome to the real world [unfinished 9/4/14]

Grumpy. That's the word that describes my past 12 months.  I know everyone told me life would only get worse from now on, but not even I could be prepared for what real life really means.  I have a lot of disappointments about how things can turn out or how people can really be.  I suppose I just need to remember that while I may not have everything perfectly how I want it, I still have got some good things and should be appreciative of those things.  I am thankful everyday for my beautiful dog and my loving boyfriend.  I should be thankful that I have a job and I should be thankful that I have a place to live, but I have little reservations about those things that should drive me to keep trying for something better.

A new age [unfinished 6/9/13]

There was once a time when I thought I had fallen in love with someone.  I was head over heels and couldn't keep myself away from him.  I followed him around like a shadow and did everything I could to get his attention. I eventually got tired of waiting for him to notice me instead of the other girls, so I grieved the failure and moved on.  This was his queue to realize what opportunity he had let slip away.  He in turn began to pursue me, but I refused to let him bring me back into the past.  At least that's what I tried to do.  The moment you let your gaurd down, they take and take.

Totem Animal

"If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at will change." - Wayne Dyer

I have always been attached to frogs since I can first remember learning about them in Kindergarten, and then fully identifying with them by the time I was 8.  I liked the way frogs looked and lived; some were powerfully toxic and some were just fat pests.  I've always seen the frog to be kind of a laid back being with his permeable skin soaking up the energy around him and using it as he would.
As I come to a point of transition in my life, I look to the world's cutest transformer, the frog.  He goes through physical and mental changes as he grows.  He travels back and forth between the water and the land.  He balances his life on the cusp of water and solid ground.
I'm looking up to this guy, he knows whats up.  Now that I've finished my bachelors degree and I'm moving on to new places, I need to be the frog and take it all in stride.  I'm anxious about what lays ahead for me, and this is because I don't really know what to expect or how to handle it.  I suppose it won't be terribly hard, but it is all going to be such a new pond--you just can't help being a little scared about what else lurks in it.

Mr Pickles

Mr Pickles, beloved pet iguana, 2003-2013

Although he had a very tough beginning, Mr Pickles surely lived long enough to enjoy comforts that most exotic pets don't survive to see.  He came to me in January 2004, bought from a pet store for a few bucks in Las Cruces, NM.  He and I had many disagreements about things, but I admit I was probably way too relaxed with his care.
Fastforward to our trip to Washington in 2006, Mr Pickles became very ill with MBD and fractured several bones including his jaw.  He recovered but we still saw the affects of this last until his final day.  He was always smaller than he should have been, and he had that terribly silly looking overbite.  Today I feel the pain of his loss, and I question whether I did all that I could to give him a happy life.  As a pet mother, I know I made mistakes with him and I regret that, but I don't regret keeping him and caring for him because I knew I could do better than most others.  Caring for an iguana is not easy.  Especially one that gets ill quite often.
Mr Pickles had been deteriorating in health for the past 6 months from an unknown illness. I assume it was some type of cancer based on all of the symptoms.  He passed away in his sleep last night.  This morning he was laid to rest in the back garden with a bushel of strawberries (his favorite thing in the whole damn world).
I can honestly say I learned a lot from Mr Pickles in the 9 years we spent together. I learned that all things in this world deserve our best, even the things that bite and scratch us.  We have to be good and strong people to take all the lashings from our pets in order for us to help them have long and happy lives.
I learned that I could not mold his needs to fit mine and the only I could succeed would be to shape myself to fit his needs.  I did just that and everything was smooth sailing from there.  As a pet parent you have to make sacrifices and you have to be motivated to give everything you can to your pet.  Pet parents must be driven to success by being active and attentive.  You have to find answers when you have none.  All you need is love...? NO! You need strong conviction to be the best.  You need to instill healthy habits in yourself and you need to teach healthy habits to your pets!
Thank you, Mr Pickles, and rest well my little green biter.

This loss has left an empty space in my heart.  Maybe after some time has passed I can move on and welcome more furry babies into my home.

The three amigos

In the past three days I have had some individuals contact me whom I have either lost contact over a long period of time or have had very little conversation with recently.  Three of these people are part of a category of friends I like to jokingly refer to as the Lost Beaus, or secretly refer to as my old personal trainers. If you know what I mean.  Memories I cannot forget have been invading my sleepless nights.  I suppose there must just be something in the air.  I can't see why I would be receiving contact like this all of a sudden and from them specifically.  I have many lost friends that could have contacted me, but no. I guess its just that time of year when people get cabin fever and a little atwitter as well.  Its that time of year to send Karina that love letter you've been dying to get off your chest.
So I'm making a call for papers. To all of you, everyone: its time to send Karina love letters! Secret admirer notes are acceptable as well. Also, send chocolates and flowers. Make sure to attach your fantasies list and a detailed explanation as to why you couldn't resist any longer the need to contact me and express your desires.
How should my response go? My brain, my heart, and my lady boner are all screaming different answers.  Brain says, no ignore it and keep your life simple and uncomplicated I'm tired of thinking things through for you I do enough work at school. Heart says, you should stay open to all possibilities and keep communication open and flowing with everyone, even that magnificent boyfriend of yours. Lady Boner--well, she's not using intelligible language, its more of a gruesome whole-body interpretation of what she wants to do.

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.

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.

Trapped

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?

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.

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.

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.

My muse

I'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.

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.

&#*@%!!

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?

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.

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!



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...

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?