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A couple of things:

I have a job interview tomorrow for a non-profit organization that helps the disabled.  It’s 4 days per week, office work, and has amazing benefits.  While I’m scared of the potential stress, I’m hoping that it goes well and that I can begin being able to afford things like fixing my car and getting proper health care.  So wish me luck.

I’m just going to have to be a hippie from now on, where my legs are concerned, because unless I can find a method of hair removal that doesn’t result in either chemical burns or bloodshed, I’m going to be walking around wearing pants all the time, anyway.  Last night was the last straw, as it were, with the past 20 years of my life being one experiment after another.  My leg hair’s so light, I don’t know how people will notice, anyway, especially since I’m not a skirt-wearer, generally.  Why include this in a blog post?  Because my legs sting, and I’m having to wear shorts and push my socks down (this is a big deal, folks – knee socks are my “thing” for several reasons, and have been since I was 14) to keep my upper shins from being all dramatic.  I look diseased.  I’m having flashbacks to middle school.  Not cool, Skin.  Not cool.

I started a new anxiety medication last week, and the only real difference I’ve noticed is that my brain just basically wants me to take a nap and forget about my “to-do” list.  The panic and stress are still there, just under a blanket.

Related to the above, I have 35 days to submit all of my materials for grad school.

Also related, I’ve had to add a third male to my list of people to whom I have no idea how I’d react if I interacted with them, in person, again.  What is WRONG with people?

The more I have to talk about, the less I have to say.  It’s like revisiting the topics in the form of a blog post is just as stressful, and my brain’s like, “Yeah, how about we just NOT do that?”  So that’s why I don’t post as much.

7 comments to hi.

  • Hang in there, you’ll do fine!
    Good Luck!

    What’s wrong with people is they are people. Fucked up from the start. We all must deal with it.


  • I have to say that I rarely shave my legs, and I have very dark hair, unless I specifically plan to wear a skirt in public, and even then most of my skirts are ankle length so even then I often don’t have to. I never wear shorts except for around the house. Shaving makes me MUCH more likely to break out with an allergic rash to SOMETHING in the environment. The skin is just that much more sensitive without the hair. I prefer long pants and skirts anyway, or wear nylons on the rare occasion when I couldn’t shave and had to wear something shorter.

    • It does seem that when you shave, your legs go O GOD MY LIFE a lot more easily, doesn’t it? Honestly, I don’t shave very often at all (I shave my pits every time I shower, taking care to use surgical soap because I got a staph infection last year, but otherwise, meh…being a redhead has advantages in the hair-growth department), wear jeans and pants pretty much all the time, and do the nylon trick when possible. I’ll shave my ankles if I’m wearing a longer skirt (I’ve got ridiculously long legs, so skirts never reach down as far as they should), but otherwise I usually leave it alone, or don’t wear a skirt at all.

  • First off, good luck.
    I don’t shave. I use an epilator. Apparently yanking the hairs out at the root is better for me. And I have dark hair so something must be done.

    • I use epilators as an example for the lengths women are willing to go for hair-removal, whenever a guy complains about having to shave his face. That usually shuts them up. You must have nerves of steel, woman…heh. I pluck my eyebrows and end up wanting to set the world on fire. I can’t imagine plucking my legs (though I knew someone in TaeKwonDo 17 years ago who used tweezers on her legs, because electric epilators weren’t for sale easily, back then, and by the time she’d worked up to her knees, the hair at her ankles would have started, so she was constantly tweezing…she was a nightmare sparring partner, and I have a feeling her legs were indirectly a part of that).

  • Heh. I stopped shaving my face about three weeks ago. Turning 60 a few years back has been an amazingly good influence on me, in terms of helping me not to care what other people think about my looks. The beard is all white. It’s been all white since I was in my late thirties. (I got a lot of stress from the normals.) I used to shave it to conceal the whiteness of it, but I no longer give a shit.

    I try to to stay cleaned-up enough to avoid arrest on the street and wrinkled noses in church, but that’s as far as I’ll go.