Really, America?

Right now I'm feeling pretty rejected by America. Or rather, corporate America, all of which is apparently conspiring to keep me out of a job. I'm kinda getting sick of trying to prove my worth through applications and cover letters. And why am I trying so hard to get a job I know I'll hate?

So, right now my feeling is to go home and restrategize! reformulate! repackage! - or lick my wounds. And lately, maybe out of necessity, that feeling has taken on symbolic dimensions. Going home - a burst towards freedom, my liberation from constricting suits and hollow handshakes. My chance to do something meaningful, and put some truth in my answer for the standard Where-do-you-see-yourself-in-five-years interview question.

My latest adventure in nappy natural hair seems a natural outlet for this desire. Y'all know I graduated wearing this shiny bouncy wig (and are quite familiar with my wig adventures during Senior week!). But as the summer wore on, and I sent out more resumes in vain, I started ditching the wig and rocking my fro more often. Now I'm born again in natural hair. I love playing with my hair, touching the kinks and the curls and learning how to take care of it. (And coz this is me, finding online communities for nappturals!) It's a part of me that I tamed into submission with relaxers and flat irons - to the point where I didn't even know what my real hair looked like. I covered it up, and braided it long - to what end? I smell symbolism!

So that's where I'm at right now. I'm feeling pretty fed up, and ripe with radicalism. Please stop me from getting a tattoo or a nose ring guys (both of which I am seriously considering). On the other hand, if I got a job, I would jump on it, because this stage of my life is still primarily driven by (the lack of) money.