I've got so many plans for myself (style-wise) once I move out.

I'm going to finish that piece on my side, and I'm going to get my cartilage pierced.

I've realized that I love tattoos. I love the idea of having a PICTURE on my body. Art. It's so cool. And I love the one I have now.

Also, when I move out (which in my head, at the moment, means when I go away to graduate school), I'm going to get the "I write my world" tatt on my right wrist (in typewriter font). I'm also going to get my cross - EKG tattoo on my left wrist.

For my 25th birthday, I want the drum sticks with the red ribbon on my upper left arm.
Oh. I also plan to take up ballet and breakdancing.

On my own first, that way when I go into a class I won't be so awkward and lost.
Back to the tattoos. I found a drawing on tumblr that was amazing, and I want it as a full back piece, but I want to mesh it with the guitar neck that I want going down my back...it's a skeleton with flowers and moths as part of it. But I want a tatt artist to design the neck of the guitar like bone, and make the whole skeleton into a guitar, and reverse the anatomy of the skeleton, because right now its a front view, which wouldn't make sense on my back.

Ah. Here we are. So..picture it on my entire back, but the back view of the skeleton, and the neck piece somehow extending to be a guitar...I dunno.My neck is not that long, lol.  Now that I'm looking at it it needs some tweaking, but I'll find a way to incorporate a guitar. =)

Anyway. Time for bed. It's 2am. Got class at 10:30....blechh.

Good night!!

Ah, revisions....revisions....

So...maybe...we have to do this a little differently. I talked over my schedule change with my friend and she pointed out (which I didn't know) that the lab I'll be taking has 15 page lab reports each week.

Um. That's a lot.

How do I balance that with 3 journalism classes? And Mammalian? Yeah.

So now I'm thinking maybe push the journalism classes over into the spring.
But I have no more money for the spring. I've been in college too darn long. The only loans I have left to take out are unsubsidized, which means that they accrue interest while I'm still in school. The ones I have so far, the government covers the interest until I'm no longer enrolled.

I COULD go back to paying out of pocket, which is what my dad was doing for a long time before, but I hate to put that pressure back on him. Gosh. I don't know what to do.

No. I DO know what to do. I'll figure this out, so help me God.

Okay. Say the journalism classes are offered in the spring. I take my two bio classes this fall, focus on them, ace them, have time to volunteer in the hospital and maybe shadow in a lab. I write for the school newspaper.

Then there's the winter break. What then? Need money. Hm. *sigh* Maybe I can get a winter internship? That pays? I also need to take the GRE. And apply to grad schools, because their deadlines are January 15th.

Which means that I'd better get to know my professors real well....recommendation letters. Jeesh. The programs I want to apply to are ones that I want to have the journalism classes for. This is confusing. Okay. Trying to picture it all out in my head. . . .Oh gosh. I just remembered I have a physics lab report due friday. And I think I have to pack tonight because I heard my friend say she was leaving right after class tomorrow. JESUS WHO INVENTED MONEY??? IT'S SO INCONVENIENT WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE ENOUGH!!!!!! I need another train ticket.

*major sigh*

Back to planning. Suppose I now graduate in May '13. I'd need to start grad school asap so that I could defer my loans. And still work at the same time. I'm looking at out of state schools, which means out of state tuition. And perhaps room/board. Unless I could rent somewhere for cheaper. But then there's food/transportation to consider.

I can't wait for the journalism classes to be done with before applying to grad school. That definitely won't work. I need....to......just state in my applications that by the time I graduate I will have...thing...um. Those classes under my belt. But they require writing samples in the applications. Which have to be published. That's why I need to write for the statesman. And look into perhaps writing for a magazine or newspaper. In that case I don't need money....I just need published work.

Ah. I should just go to sleep and plan this out more later. But I'm not tired. I'm hungry.

Buggar.

Career choices?

I'm a bio major.
English minor.
Lover of science and writing.

Why not combine the two?

I just signed up for three journalism classes for the fall semester......and have been researching masters degrees in science writing.
It sounds quite promising....and the extra classes offer me a chance to better my GPA even further before I graduate.
I sooooo want a 3.0.

I CAN DO IT.

I WILL DO IT.

Science writing offers me the opportunity to travel in my career field if I want to, and to always learn new things without necessarily having to apply it to a life or death situation...without having to memorize things, and since I've recently discovered that I need to write to survive, that problem is taken care of too.

LIFE IS AWESOME.

Oh. And matters of the heart are at stake too. But that's something I'd rather not actually write about.

Rants and rambles about life....or the lack of it.

Why am I still doing this?
Why am I doing what I have to?
I don't want to.
I want to do what I want to do.
I want to do what's fun, and interesting, and non-obligatory.

I've always had a problem with people telling me what to do...I'll do it, I just don't like the process of being told to do something.

I want to do things because I can, or because I feel like it. Not because I absolutely have to because some stupid grade or deadline depends on it.

I should run away and go live in the forest.

Or just be a gypsy or something. What are gypsies anyway?

Why does everything turn into work?
If you write, and get a company to work for with writing, boom. You have deadlines that loom over you like 100 story buildings that block out the sun.

What about being an artist? Why can't I just roam the world? Because I'd have to take trains and airplanes and buses or some nonsense like that, and the people who operate them are constrained to these small minded things like getting a paycheck at the end of the week.

Who  invented money, anyway?

It's annoying. You need money for everything.
The freakin' internet costs money...heck, my laptop that I'm typing on right now cost money...a pretty penny, too.
It's still not even paid for fully.

Am I just bum-like and lazy?

Why am I tied into science? It's interesting, but I hate, hate, HATE having to memorize stuff or all this...ugh!
Here's what happened. Ever since I was about six, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Then I hit middle school, took a pre-nursing class as an elective, and got utterly engrossed in neuroscience. I decided I wanted to be a neurosurgeon.
That stuck with me through high school, and when I started college, don't get me started on the advisors. They didn't give me any help at all. They just said, hey, you can major in dance, if you like, as  long as you take the prerequisite science courses for med school.

No telling me to volunteer or get research experience, or suggestions for shadowing or anything.

Piss me off.

So I proceeded to go through five and a half years of college, about halfway through starting to seriously doubt whether I was cut out for medicine.

My mom didn't let me quit, bless her heart. She only had my best intentions at heart. But at that point, it would still have been early enough for me to explore other options; for me to change my major...maybe to dance. Not really. But still. I could have started looking at other careers and course offerings rather than isolating myself to science, and now I still don't have the hands-on experience I need to even get a decent internship or whatever because everyone wants experience, but you have to have experience to get experience.

It's a vicious cycle.

Now I finally decided to not totally change my career, but I'm not doing med school, I decided I wanted to do research.
Now I'm not sure if I can do research, cause my gpa (stupid thing) isn't quite up to par for that.

Piss me off, again.

I'm looking into science writing now. Seems cool....and it does offer the opportunity to travel if you decide to become a science journalist.
I'm also needing to really consider employment after graduation. *sigh*
The ONE advisor I went to who trumped all the others at my school (a lovely lady) suggested that I look into paid student conservation internships.

That actually seems promising.

And I'd get to travel America.

What if I decided I want to work in conservation? So what if it's not neuroscience?

My dad mentioned that he's worried that I don't know what I want to do with my life.

Looky here. He wanted to be a soldier when he was my age. He would have been, but he got sick. (long story...his brother poisoned him. Yeah.)
He's not doing that now, but like, why do I have to have my mind made up? Actually, how can I be EXPECTED to have my mind made up when I don't even know what's out there?

The good advisor lady also suggested working for a museum or as a child life specialist, since I like children. (But I don't like to see children suffer, so probably not the latter). But if I work for a museum, wouldn't I be tied down to one spot? Like, forever? Unless they wanted me to like, transport their materials, but I might have to have had a major in art or art history for that. I dunno.

*sigh*
I should have done archaeology. Heck no. That'd mean memorizing dates.

I should have been an art major. Or music. But I think I had to audition for music, or maybe not. Good God, I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I know I want it to involve traveling and sightseeing. And something creative or ....informative.

Maybe I'm just selfish and unrealistic.

But is that so bad?
Yea, it probably is. I also want to go to Kenya. I want to work in their Abandoned Baby Center there.....it's a year commitment, and I don't mind that at all.

But then I worry about my family.
And now, what about this whole moving to Norway thing? If I get a job here, it would look bad on my resume if I just up and leave.

Wait.
But if I'm just doing a year's paid internship, then.....when it's done I could go wherever, right? Or just do more internships with them.

Great big sigh. I found a job listing on craigslist for a new business looking for a proofreader/editor, who would get paid either $20/hr or per work edited.
I sent them an email.

I hope to God that I get that position/opportunity.

Okay. I've gotta go now, but oh boy oh boy oh boy... (that's fun to type. It only requires one hand)....I'm tired of school.
I really am.

plans

I'm studying for a quiz and a midterm....

and I have this insatiable need to CLIMB. 

Not like climb the walls....like, literally climb. A tree. Or a collection of metal rods. Or over a fence. Or up onto a roof. 

Ah. If only....if we lived in a place like I grew up in, with a flat roof and actual access to it, I would totally do my homework on the roof every single day. It would be so lovely. 

When I finally settle down (and I say finally, because I intend to travel the entire world first) I'm going to build a jungle gym in my backyard. With a swing set. And mind you, it's not for the kids. 

*sigh*

I don't think human-kind was meant to sit in houses, or small cubicle-like offices, in front of glaring computer screens or scratching computations onto pieces of paper all day long. 

We were meant to roam the jungle and the desert and climb the mountains and till the land. Seriously. 

Where do we come from acting all high and mighty in a suit and tie? Or, god forbid, HEELS? 

What can you do in that? Except look better than somebody else. But that's not the point of life. Honestly, when I see someone looking like they got their hands dirty from working in the sun or showcasing a unique style that isn't that "cookie-cutter-perfect-everyone-looks-the-same" fashion, I love it. 

And I think they look better than the stereotypes. 

In summary, 

I need to climb something. And the ladder to my bed just isn't cutting it lately. 

First Day....indeed. (of those heavy duty classes...and typical first day luck)

So I just fell off my longboard and scratched my knee cause I hit a particularly large crack in the sidewalk.
Really, you'd think with the $15 million dollar grant my school just got they'd have a little spare change and a little common sense to tackle the small things like, oh. Maybe have a smooth,even surface for walking on? Or skating on?

Nah.

They're building more dorms, so they can get even more money.

Blah.

Anyway, my longboard went back in the opposite direction (laws of physics there...how ironic. I just got out of physics lecture) and a guy was kind enough to kick it back to me. =)
Then when I got up and dusted off my dignity another guy from across the ...what do you call it? It's sort of a courtyard...called out to me and asked whether I was okay.

I was. . .I am. I said as much, and he was satisfied. That was kind of him....but utterly embarassing for me. >_<

So then after taking a detour through the Student Activities Center (We call it the SAC for short..like, "sack") so that no one would see me try to ride the instrument of doom any farther, I came out on the opposite side of the SAC and headed for the library, all the while thinking that for the rest of the summer I'm not going to wear my hair in the gigantic, unrestrained afro that it's in today....because everyone would be sure to recognize me for it and go "hey, that's that tall girl who fell off her longboard the other day...gee, she should learn to ride."

All these thoughts were swirling in my mind, and threatening to shrink me down to the size of a garden gnome in mortification. If only that were possible....

Anyway, as I was crossing the Academic Mall to get to the library (where I could wallow in shame and tend to my scraped knee), a white girl in a long, flowing maxi dress walked by me, looked me directly in the eyes, and with a huge smile on her face, said "I LOVE your hair!"

(Inner squealing time)
I grinned, of course, and thanked her sincerely....but I am in just...wow. Like, wow. Utter amazement.

She wasn't some geeky, outcast sci-fi nerd member of society....this girl looked like she had stepped off the cover of some magazine...HER hair reached halfway down her back and was in medium sized natural ringlets...but of course, like most Caucasian hair....not poofy.

Why is this such a big deal to me, you  might ask?

Because. That's the first EVER affirmation/compliment I have EVER received from a white (or Caucasian, to be politically correct) person about my hair in its natural state. Except for my mother, but she doesn't count. She's supposed to say things like that.

Talk about a boost of self-esteem? I don't know, I've been having a sort of identity crisis lately...up until only two semesters ago I was utterly bewitched by the conformist media nonsense that led me to believe that everyone ought to have long, flowing hair...and that gigantic poofy afros were unkempt and untidy.

Un-beautiful.

But lately I've begun to embrace my  poofiness, but still, it's bothered me whether I would be accepted this way by the white half of my blood. Like if I were to move to Norway, which I want to do.
Sure, I've gotten a lot of compliments for my hair, but it's mainly been from...well...ONLY been from blacks.

I go to a mostly Indian church (Guyanese indian), and a lot of the people there have teased me about my hair or told me I need to do something to tame it.

I fell for it for several years.
Need I mention I eventually rebelled and wore it as big as I could just to rub it in their faces?

But still, it's a big deal to me, anyway, to have had my hair validated by someone other than my mother....and of her race.

It shouldn't matter, I know, but the world is the way it is. We have racial stereotypes and problems, and growing up in a society completely affected by that, as a biracial individual at that....how should I not care?

Maybe one day I will learn.

But for now........I feel special.

~Cahryn K.

=(

I had an awful dream last night.

It must've come from re-reading all those poems I'd written over the years for different boys I'd liked...I never knew I wrote so many...for boys. Eww.

Anyway, I came across one from my ex...

And ended up dreaming about him.

*sigh*
I never knew I was still so hurt by him. Why is it always like that? Why do they have to hurt us?

The dream was that he actually moved in across the street from me, with his fiancée. I don't know if he has one in real life or not. I shouldn't care. But in the dream, it hurt so bad. I woke up with an actual pain in my chest...a throbbing ache...and it wasn't just any ol' chest pain.

It was the kind you can only get from having your heart broken. You probably know the difference, too.

He was talking to me, in the dream, and I don't know, somehow I ended up inside his apartment and he introduced me to the girl...and I couldn't even hate her if I tried, because she was just so nice. I don't know how he ever would have ended up with her.

I don't think I want to write down the details of the dream because I'm pretty sure I won't want to look back and have to remember them. But we haven't been together for five years, and I haven't spoken to him in all that time either.

Why should a dream throw me so off-kilter?

I told her, in the dream, that I was happy for them and wouldn't want to split them up (she knew I was his ex)...there was a misunderstanding because he was trying to get me to hide the paper that held our conversation on it...weird. We talked out loud, but then everything was scrawled in blue ink on a notebook paper. She tried to get it from me but I wouldn't let her see it.

We had talked, somewhat awkwardly, about our past relationship and caught up to date a little bit on what had been going on, while his wife-to-be had left the room.

I think I'm going to stay away from guys. Like, totally, until I'm done with like, half of my life. It's utterly useless to engross yourself so much in someone only to have it end and then have regrets that sneak up on you half a decade later...when you thought you'd long ago buried them and moved on.

Seriously.
It hurt.

The Bronx (an old poem...for Blue)

I am in the Bronx
and it reminds me of
the color purple minus red.
Of course I might not see it
I don't know what section to look in
or even if it would be safe to look
anymore
since March.
But I'm probably on the opposite
side of the borough
and there's no hope at all
Or luck might just so have it
that I'm 5 blocks away
or just around the corner
on Gunhill Road
and as I step out of the store
I see those familiar eyes
perhaps registering shock,
perhaps staring in quiet unrecognition
but nevertheless my heart drops
quickly down
through my vitals into my womb
and spills in a mix of
amniotic fluid and tears
into what creates,
shockingly,
a beautiful puddle on the broken sidewalk
And I can breathe.

Scream.

I need to scream.

I think it would do me a world of good right about now.

*screams at top of lungs and flings phone someplace dark and dusty*

Yeah. I wish.

Splendid, unproductive day

So, it's really late now and I have to go to bed (says my mother. I'm not tired.)

But I wanted to write about how...enthused?...I feel. Absolutely enthused. Inspired.
Why?
Because I've discovered a fellow soul. A kindred spirit, as Anne of Green Gables so daintily put it. And I think that's so awesome.

I made a tumblr today, it's pretty cool. I have to get used to how it works, and I want to tweak my page a bit more.
Oh. And I also found a picture for Aria...exactly what she looks like in my head. She's even in a forest scene....I'll post it here ...later.
But I'm thrilled. Utterly thrilled.

My final paper is due tomorrow, officially, but our teacher said we could have the weekend to work on it as long as she had it in her email by midnight on monday...so....I barely have 2 pages done out of the 7-8 she expects.

*sigh*
I intend to work on it tomorrow morning, sitting in my favorite tree on campus. It's lovely, with low, swooping limbs and busy ants that march back and forth across the branches nonstop. It's also very easy to climb up into wearing jeans, and the limbs are poised just so to make a perfect backrest.

And I get to sit there at 8 o'clock in the morning. It's great.
Unless someone sits or stands nearby and smokes, or the fumes from the building construction blow on over there and stifle me.

Both of which have happened.
But lets hope that tomorrow is perfect, no?

*smiles*
Anyway, I just wanted to spill. See you tomorrow, perhaps. =)

Avatar Dreams

If I lived on my own, I would probably be unreachable by everyone.

I see why some people choose to live their lives in seclusion...hidden behind the mask of an avatar and type font.

Believe me. If I could, I would too.

UK Rebel

UK Rebel by eia-kjaerlighet featuring an oversized leather tote

Carlos Miele nude dress
$290 - pret-a-beaute.com

Star shoes
starconverse.com

Paul s Boutique oversized leather tote
$55 - bankfashion.co.uk

Miss Selfridge cross jewelry
missselfridge.com

Wanderlust and wonderings

So I'm feeling better lately.

My mom has been sick, she still is, but at least she's getting treatment now...

I'm probably going to ...no... definitely going to be MIA for the next six weeks. I have three hardcore summer classes that I'll be taking; Organic Chemistry, Physics, and Physics lab. 

Blechh. 

But...I'm determined to do well. 

Also, I finally signed up to volunteer at my university hospital. 

And changed my career path. 

And have reached a new hair-length goal: BRA-STRAP LENGTH!!! 

And I'm going to buy a SLR camera, finally. I'm getting a refund from financial aid sometime in the next 3 weeks (hopefully) so I'll actually be able to afford one. 

I hope to use it to make some money...

...besides soothe my artistic instincts. 

I tried to make a photography blog, but I don't know what really happened with it...it sort of....sat there. Or maybe my internet conked out. I don't remember. But I think it's called purple pixels. 

It's floating around here somewhere, with nothing on it. =(

I have to pee. I'll be back. 

*five minutes go by*

I'm back. ^_^ Much better. Ahem. 

Oh yes! Lovely news. I've stretched my ears two sizes, first from 18g to 16g, and now, a few days ago, from 16g to 14g. ^_^ I'm so happy! I'm finally wearing plugs! Small ones, no doubt, but plugs nonetheless!

Enough exclamation points for now. 

I've stumbled across a photography blog by a young girl/mother/artist named Nirrimi...she's literally the embodiment of what I want my life to be like. Here's her page: Wanderlust

I don't know how to reconcile all my desires with my life. I want so much. There's got to be so much more than just going to college, graduating, getting a job, getting married, and having kids and a house. 

How boring is that? So what if you're doing something you love? 

There's the entire world around you...why wouldn't you go out and travel, and experience it, and see how other people live, and taste other culture's food, and walk barefoot on the beach at sunrise, or hide in a cave in a forest during an impromptu thunderstorm?

I used to want to go to med school. But there was so much pressure with that, and now I can honestly say I don't believe I'm cut out for it. I'm too dreamy. I'm too...artistic. I would stifle with all the stress and responsibility that accompanies that. The years of hard work. 

I want to live my life freely. I want to express myself in the clothes I wear, in how I do my hair, in what I choose to put in or on my body, and in what I create. 

I love to learn. But not to apply the knowledge. 

Heheh. Odd, I suppose. But then...the perfect career for me is.....RESEARCH. Tada!

This is an awfully long blog post, but I need to express myself. After all, that's what blogging is for, right? 

Is it wrong that when I see myself falling in love (which I do believe is possible, contrary to what I tell many people) it's not with someone of the african-american race? 

Maybe it is wrong. I don't care. 

Maybe it's a product of having grown up near/in a ghetto...and just seeing the type of "black male" that such a culture produces. I want nothing of it. 

Back to traveling the world. My mother left Norway and moved to America on her own when she was twenty-five, just two years older than I am now. Before that, she had been to Africa and Germany. Is it really my fault that wanderlust runs in my blood? 

I want to take a road trip across America and play guitar by a bonfire in the midwest, surrounded by fascinating individuals and laugh up at the stars. I want to dress in jean shorts and cowboy boots, lace tops and 0g plugs. 

I want to climb the trees in the Olympian forest of the Northwest, and visit a Native American reservation...heck, I want to live there for a while. I wonder if that's legal. 

I want to travel with nothing but a camera and a wallet. I want to own a run down, beat up pick-up truck, in faded blue chipped paint. 

But what I don't know for sure is....does all this traveling require money? Do you have to be rich? Or can you just hitchhike? And then comes the problem of the fact that I'm a girl, and it's "not safe" to travel like that. 

But I have a friend...one of my best guy friends, who shares the same wanderlust as I do. 

Problem numero uno. 

He likes me. 

Would it really be smart to travel the country alone with him? No. 

*sigh* 

I have an 8 page paper to do that's due between friday and monday, and it's wednesday evening now. 

I ought to sign off and shut up for now. 

Thanks for listening. I love you.