You got this.

“Courage is the door that can only be opened from the inside” – Terry Neil


Thinking of the fighters..

Psst!

Clean your phone.


Cell. Office. Home, if you're one of the few still enjoying antiquities.
Whatever. Clean it. Now.


Have a lovely weekend, and thanks for reading! Xo

Business Casual, You Say?

Upon beginning a new job, aside from the lunch policy, workstation decorating, pay schedule, and vacation time, there is little more important to the punch packed during your introductory period as how an employee herself through aesthetics. I say, herself, because this IS more of a gendered issue. Women comprise almost half of the workforce, and for every female employee, there is a morning struggle between what is appropriate to wear to work, and how to turn that summer maxi dress into an office-worthy ensemble. Plus, men simply don't find themselves the subject of impromptu meetings with management on the tightness of a skirt, or the precarious dip of a collar.


Dressing for work is not as easy as it once was, nor is it as general, which causes a world of problems that millennial women didn't even know existed. Long gone are the days of the blue or black (white and gold?) power suit, modest pumps, and a conservative hairstyle. Today, the workforce is comprised of fashions that range the gamut from conventional to quirky, all while balancing company standards of dress. Women are wearing fringe, tribally inspired patterns, sundresses paired with dark, opaque tights, hats, denim.


Denim.


Jeans aren't just for casual Friday anymore, especially at companies that pride themselves on artistic expression and a social, fun, workplace environment.


But, what if your job isn't as forgiving of the relaxed workplace trends? What if your job balks at jeans, no matter how dark and unassuming they might be? What if their idea of business casual, a term that is buried beneath subjection, mirrors any female character out of an episode of Mad Men? What if you simply don't know and can't quite tell exactly what is required? Is next season's Marc Jacobs military collection too risqué for my beige company? Can my Big Star patchwork jeans pass the Casual Friday test if I pair them with a collared shirt? Are my boobs too big for a collared shirt? Is this heel too high? Will they think my natural hair is too...natural? Am I drawing too much attention for wearing things that show, not exploit, my curves? Is it fair? Is that rhetorical?


This is when telecommuting becomes a viable option. But, alas, you can't quit. But something's got to give.


Employers would truly benefit from perusing the newest collections from trendsetting fashion houses, as the most utilized of clothing stores pull from their influence. Just because Target has it in their business-friendly section does not mean that your company will approve of it. And no one wants to find themselves in a meeting with the boss over minced ideas.


So, what does a clothes-wearing woman in 2015 do when management has the last say on what dictates acceptability? Does self expression take a back seat to the vagueness of The Dress Code?


Never have uniforms sounded so nice.

Crash

Harrison Ford crashed his vintage plane this afternoon.
Bless his heart. This wasn't his first crash.
He's kind of a career crasher.
Must be nice to afford and then ruin expensive things all willy nilly.
With reckless abandon.
Knowing that the next is but a pointed finger today.


I'm busting my ass like the majority of folks, just to work enough to build upon my paid time off.


So that I can take a 4 day weekend that'll likely be devoid of a plane ride.
So that I can maintain my sanity upon the concrete that the rich ruin things on.
Ruin for leisure, on a Thursday afternoon.


Maybe I need another job. Maybe the chip on my shoulder is anchoring me to earth, when I really want to fly, too.
Hence my blog.


I'm glad he's ok.

It doesn't matter how long your grass is..

Humans give snakes a bad name.
As I sit at work reflecting upon my lunch hour spent photographing a man who rubbed his bare belly and grabbed his crotch, pointing it at cars passing by, I'm beginning to understand that snakes are doing what they're supposed to do, and our criticism and fear of them is due to our trivialization of their nature. Once we realize what is both natural and habitual for something, the more we'll allow it to be.


There are people in life who slither through your grass, preying upon your presumed vulnerability, ready to devour your spirit.


Realize who they are, that this is their unfortunate nature, and keep it moving.


Snakes only take down what they think they can.


Be bigger.

One.

Writers write. Writers write. Writers should be writing. Writers don't just tweet, or Instagram, or Facebook, or text, or utilize social media mediums to express themselves. They need the smell of paper. The sharpness of a surprise paper cut. The digital space facilitated by a screen and a keyboard that feels comfortable beneath the fingertips that are extensions of a mind so occupied by...words. Writers write. And, I am a writer. And so it shall be.


It took me a long time to confirm what I've always known: that, because I love to write, and find myself communicating most emphatically THIS WAY, I am a writer. Those four little words are heavier than almost anything I've ever said, and the weight of them grows with each passing day that I do not write something, anything. I've written for myself and others forever, cleaving to Nancy Drew and Silverstein and Angelou and Hughes and Lawry and Shakespeare and Tupac. I respect words. I respect those who make them readable.


I can stare absentmindedly at my phone screen for hours, observing the happenings of friends, real and virtually real, and contribute quick quips, anecdotes, and long-winded narratives, often even too long for my time, to posts on a quick moving feed. Those are easy. Sitting down to control your own space is somehow more difficult. It's like I'm judging myself against my capabilities, wondering if I'm being too vulnerable, as if that's a bad thing. It's not. Vulnerability is beautiful. That's why it's often faked.


I don't know where this blog will take me. But, I know it's a start.
Because, writers write.
And I am a writer. And, so it shall be.