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?