Dear Mother Smoking Outside Of My Work Place,

I realize I am not a mother and therefore I cannot fully comprehend the responsibility that rests upon your shoulders. I do not have a child, let alone four or five, as it appears you do. I work and study full time, so I cannot afford such pleasantries as getting my nails done at the salon next door to my studio as you do. I realize you may need a break from the intense labor of being a full time mother, but in this case perhaps it is best to leave your kids at home. Now, now...before you get upset mother smoking outside of my work place...please let me remind you that your children are playing in a very busy parking lot (unsupervised )as we speak. I realize you may have no one to supervise your children at home while you get your nails done, but is it really better to pretend you are supervising your children as they run around a busy parking lot instead of leaving them safe at home...out of the way of that giant, black sports utility vehicle that is about to back into your toddler? Good job, mother smoking outside of my work place, you managed to yell at your toddler to abandon his game behind that monstrous SUV and continue to play said game in front of my studio window. Oh, and you flipped the drivers of that SUV the bird for asking you to monitor the where abouts of your children, what a good role model you are mother smoking outside of my work place. Mother smoking outside of my work place, perhaps you are unaware, you lit another cigarette as your trouble making toddler appears to be licking the display window of my studio. You do not have to actually move from your smoking place, because you have managed to discipline your child with an order and name calling.

Thank you, Mother Outside of My Work Place, for being aware that your child is half naked in front of costumers.

--Nikki

The Ritual Sacrifice

In my Mexican history class we studied the ritual sacrifices of female virgins to the native gods and goddesses as a display of repentance and dedication of the people to the powers of nature and spectacles of the natural world. And, I walked up and down the ales of the wedding accessory store I could not help but think that my best friend is willingly sacrificing her freedom to pay homage to an institution as old as human society: marriage. Now, before anyone gets all huffy and puffy about my metaphor, I can draw a clear comparison between these two sacrifices.

1. Both the native female and the bride (usually) felt honored by the proposal of being offered up on a platter and willingly sacrificed the remainder of their lives to please a cultural institution and accepted symbols that highlighted the status of the proposal (treat v. a ring).

2. Months and months of planning are coordinated in hopes of flawless and romantical date. The perfect day must be set, invitations sent out, and a giant feast (or rehearsal dinner) must take place to ring in the importance of the ceremony.

3. After hours of preparation the sacrifice is fully attired in ceremony get up forced to perform a ritual dance.

In any sense the idea of a female offering herself up as a means of honor is somewhat an ancient concept. I am at the bridal shop waiting for invitations and wondering around a store in which no one else has seemed to have noticed this parallel, or maybe they have and have decided it is bad for business to call a wedding a "human sacrifice." Perhaps I am over reaching, but I do not think so. How many women have sacrificed their entire lives to conform to the institution of marriage...and do they regret it? I wonder if the ancients regret sacrifices themselves?



Perhaps rushing into the sacrifice is what makes it so in the first place.

--Nikki

Got My Bridesmaid Dress In....

As some of you may recall (I like to pretend someone is actually following my blog) a few weeks back I wrote about the parels of being a bridesmaid. Well, to avoid the all too familar fingers of some older, mature lady with a measuring tape across my bust, I did my dress shopping online. This is a plus, because the dress shops do not carry my size. (The smallest none-child size they carry is a size two, and I am a double zero. So anyone who believes it is more convient to be skinny is sadly misinformed.) I found the perfect dress in my size on a wonderful website for under a hundred dollars (Bridesmaidexpress.com). I ordered my dress in late January, and I recieved it mid-March. This is a pretty fast delivery time for formal dresses. I tried it on. In the mirror ritual, all of us females take part in, I danced with my reflection from one side to the other. I switched angles to ensure the dress would be flattering from all of the important angles (my ass looks great in it). As it turns out I still have no boobs, but I suppose no one will really care. I mean, it is not my wedding.

^^^^^My dress is Alfred Angelo style number 7016 for anyone who loves it.^^^^^^^

I am also planning the bridal shower. The maid of honor lives in North Carolina. The matron of honor never calls me back, and the other maid of honor is on her last semester before her masters; so I am planning this party solo. I am thinking garden party theme. There are lots of flowery bridal games, food, and decorations, so it should make things a bit easier. In high school my drama class performed Jane Austin's Emma. I was Emma, and the bride was Jane Austin. Back then we had this werid kinship that only soul mates share, and I have learned through this crazy bridal planning experience that I really do love her. A lot of the time people forget that education comes from life experience as well, and I believe she has taught me a lot through this medium.

Spring Break and 80s' Movies

So for Spring Break 2010 I decided to work an extra ten hours (two extra shifts), subsequently I had no energy nor desire to go out and party only to force myself through a five to eight and a half hour shift hungover. What did I do to entertain myself during this time of preordained none partying you ask. I watched 80s' movies on Netflix. Now this bit of information can mean one of two things: I have no life and existence is sad; I am a responsible college kid doing something financially rewarding for break. (Money is a nice thing to have in my sad existence.)

Has anyone seen Dragnet with Tom Hanks and Don Aykroyd? It came out in 1987, and it is probably the most hilarious detective spoof EVER made. Let me just say this movie made me miss the stereotypes of women used in the eighties as well as wildly offended at the notion of the virgin being suffocated by a giant snake. (Apparently, Hollywood was dominated by subtly naughty old guys in 1987).


Another great 1987 film is Raising Arizona. I am not much of a film buff, but the cinematography is amazing. The colors pop and contrast with the camera angles. This film made me miss when movies were not afraid to poke fun at society without becoming a lame political mockumentary. (Who really enjoys those Micheal Moore movies anyway?)


I am taking a history class that focuses on the time period in Mexico after its revolution to contemporary time. This class is unique, because it follows this history through the evolution of film. I suppose the subject material of this class regarding film and its required research of film techniques has found its way into my thought process while I watch films for entertainment. Awesome...the one thing I am doing for fun and entertainment during Spring Break 2010 has found relevancy in my education which, I might add, my brain is not taking a break from.

Enjoy the rest of spring break. I have work tomorrow morning.

Later,

Nikki

Midterms: AHHHHHHH!

It is the week before midterms, and I find myself completely stressed and lacking time to study, finish projects, and sleep. As time is a rare commodity of mine, I substitute the hours I should be sleeping for the hours that I study. I thought I'd be used to this hell week by now (fifth semester of college), but I am not. I spoke with my nutritionist last week, and she told me I need more sleep. I explained to her there was no room in my schedule for that, but I would consider moving some things around. I lied. You see, I have two jobs and a full load of sixteen credits. Everything I eat is in my car on my way to somewhere that I need to be...if I could somehow sleep while being transported to class and work that'd be awesome! As I only have six hours at night to study and complete assignments (I get home from work at nine, and I try to study until two or threeish to get four or five hours of sleep) I do not have time for the twenty minuets of studying and short breaks. I do a few hours of power study followed by a power nap.



Sometimes I wonder if too much is expected of me as a student, employee, sister, daughter, girlfriend, and woman. But whatever...I don't have time to think of the future implications of my life now. I have to make through yet another midterms week: I have three more to go. (I am trying not to count finals week, because that is a different ballgame.) I almost feel as thought eating, sleeping, and bathing are all a waste of time, and I need to GET BUSY studying, working, earning a degree, and starting a career. I just want time to be a young college kid, but I feel guilty going to parties, shopping, and even going out with friends. Yet, I feel expected by my peers to do those things too.

It's like I'm being pulled in one hundred directions, but I know everyone else is overwhelmed by their lives as well. So, I suppose I take solace in the idea that being this stressed out is normal.

--Nikki

Oh The Wonderful Experience of Dealing With a Crazy Professor

So on a whim I decided to enroll in an Introduction to Folklore class. The class fit well into my schedule as it only meets once a week at night on a day of the week that I do not work due to another afternoon class I am taking. I was somewhat weary of the class, because I admittedly have no idea what folklore is/means/does. So on the first day of class I sat midsection in the small room and awaited the arrival of my professor. After fifteen minuets (the advised time for students to leave in the situation of a professor being late and/or not showing up) of waiting my professor still had not shown up, and some of my classmates became frustrated and left the class. Within only moments I found myself agitated at the absence of my professor and left the room counting the dollars, gas, and time I had just wasted without having learned anything. The next week the class size had shrunk by one fourth, but I was still intrigued by the topic of the course and decided to give the professor a chance to explain her absence. At twelve minuets passed class start time the professor walked through the door somewhat frazzled and disoriented. She explained her tardiness due to the lack of parking near the building (I bought a parking space at the beginning of the semester to avoid this same issue) and her absence of the first class by a flat tire cased by vandals. She then proceeded to utilize fifty of the one hundred and twenty minuets of class time to take attendance and comment on students' names ("Nik, how androgynous?"). The professor then went on to explain she does not take attendance, give quizzes, give tests/exams, and our grade will be based on midterm and final essay papers.It is eight weeks into the semester, and the professor has been absent four of the eight classes and tardy to two. This last class the professor sent out an email explaining her absence (some friend go sick or something?) thirty minuets after class started, and she canceled the midterm paper.
I suppose I am most disappointed in this predicament, because I have not learned anything. When asked for a definition of folklore the professor provided a broad definition that included street signs and Pepsi adds. When asked for a course outline the professor answered to read our D2L readings. I honestly feel cheated as I have paid a lot of money for my education with an understanding that I would in turn be educated. I also feel as thought I am cheating: When I present my degree is it is understood I have earned all my credits. I will not have earned the credits for this class, because I still have yet to learn anything. I explained this situation to my father who replied "Oh, the wonderful experience of dealing with a crazy professor...welcome to a university."

--Nikki