Emo Post is NOT all that emo. Really, :D


*poses dramatically*
*sighs heavily*
*looks up from a book of poems by Poe*

What is this feeling that I has been lurking around the corners of my brain? Why do I feel as if all the hard work that I have put into my education is for naught?

Truly, I suspect that the whole thing is just my brain being its usual bitchy self.

Sad and lonely tree. *warbly eyes*

I am approaching the end of my degree. I have one course this summer, and three in the fall – and that is it. I am done.

In the meantime, I must now look for a job. In this market. At my age. [cough,mumble,cough43coughcough]
To say I am a bit intimidated would be an understatement. But, I have a few bonuses to stave off the jitters.

1.)  I am a darn good technical/creative writer. Even when1 my brains are being bad, I know this to be true.

2.) I have years and years of experience as a quality assurance agent and technical writer. This degree was more to open a hole in the glass ceiling that I was whapping against since I only had a high school diploma.
I’m GOING to get hired. I’ve got too many good references not to.

3.) ?

4.) Profit!

5.) I actually have a plan. It may or may not be a good plan, per se. But it’s there and I am excited to be a part of it.

1 – Which they are trying to be right now. “Put a caveat on that statement! Something along the lines of ‘in spite of what you are seeing here’ sort of thing!  Do it! Do it!”   [And I realize that technically that I just did so here. But at least it is in the footnotes, and not up in the main body, apologizing for my own work. Stupid anxiety.]

I know how you feel, little dude.

On ageism and why you all can get off my fucking lawn.

I have a test in Personality Psychology in about 2 hours. I need to study a bit more to make sure that I have the vagaries of Freud’s cocaine-dipped, fame-chasing nonsense all straight in my head. Otherwise, this post’d be quite a bit longer.

As ‘tis, I will likely return to this topic because, WTH is wrong with some people?!


On Facebook this morning, I saw a post by a women’s sweat equity group (The Sweaty Betties, if you’re inclined to look them up) stating:

Pictured: Way more dedication to exercise than I have.

“No matter what your opinion of Madonna… she sure has taken damn good care of herself!”

With which I agree. She has – at least for the past decade, many more – worked very hard on her physical body.

However, the comments were more than a bit infuriating:

“Must be nice to be able to have all that money! Look, so plastic!”
“LOL, plastic surgery!”
“Ew, old thighs!”
Etcetera, etcetera.

All the money in the world can’t buy a healthy body. That is the result of setting a course for yourself and sticking to it. Also? The whole “ick, she’s old!” does not, in fact, erase said hard work or make her less than what she is. Additionally, she’s what?  50-something?

I run into this sort of thing at school, albeit not because I look like Madonna. It’s more, “Why’re you in college, sucking up all the learning in the room, you old person, you?”

*snarl, gibber, snarl*

Yes. Definitely coming back to this topic when I have some time.

Frumpy? You’re soaking in it!

Here’s a question: who determines the rules for fashion & hair style? They seem so irrational. As if they are designed to squelch unique fashion, while at the same time promoting a look that is designed for only young, hot people. Older folks* are pretty much expected to curl up in a corner and pretend that they don’t exist, except to buy clothing for young people.

I ask because I am in somewhat of a quandry. I am a 41 year old Mom with a kid in middle school. Therefore, I am expected by the fashion industry to look somewhat like this:

"I'll take a half-caff, half-fat soy latte grande with rose-scented syrup and whipped cream made from the milk of sacred cows."









But, I am also a tattooed gamer with a love of goth and stompy boots. RPGs, snark, Sci-Fi (not to be confused with Syfy, which is apparently a disease of the intellect) and music with a BPM higher than 140 make me super happy.
According to much and more on the internet, all of this also makes me a “dork.”

Wait. What do you mean that's a boy? PFFT. I know a goth-mommy when I see one




There is always room for Marilyn-mocking.





The actual problem:

I am re-entering the professional workforce; or rather, attempting to re-enter the workforce. That means interviews. Which means that my lengthy, still somewhat streakily blue and yet gray at the roots hair should probably be styled. Or at the very least, snipped. Furthermore, I am getting touch tired of waking up with my hair wrapped around me like semi-sentient mummy bandages.

Bring Mommy the brush!








What to do, what to do. I would like to get my hair styled. However,I know that walking into any standard stylist will be a frumpy mistake. And walking into a non-standard one will be a costly one.

“Oh, so you want to re-capture your youth while not looking like you are trying to do so? Bettie Page bangs for you!”
“You did notice that my face and body type are neither Betty nor Page, right?”
“Don’t worry! You’ll love it. That’ll be a beeeeelyun dollars, plus tip.”

Pictured: Not my face.

How do I convey to potential employers my value, my skill and my abilities without scaring them off because I don’t look like what they expect?

Let’s not even – right now – get into the whole ageism in the workforce. That is a post for a whole ‘nother day.

Feh, I say. Feh and fist shaking.

I am off to get a hair cut. When I return and if I like the results, I’ll post a picture of the outcome.
In the meantime, wish this “old” gamer good luck.

* – No. Forty is NOT old. I don’t buy into the whole “old” thing except as a measure of how you feel.

Seriously, WordPress?  The formatting of the images and text looked great until I published it.