tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3091795153671061552011-04-21T21:57:05.579-07:00Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07483390216311858204noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-309179515367106155.post-52947306451859352982009-04-30T12:22:00.001-07:002009-04-30T12:41:17.014-07:00Believe it or not, binge drinking at the office was my <b>first</b> indication.<div><br /></div><div>For a long time, my office was entirely white males aged 18-35. It grew to about 35 people or so over the years, during which time we picked up a 40 year-old white male, and a female. Both have since departed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Being somewhat of a social outsider has had professional consequences. I get along with people at my office, and I have even liked on a personal level several employees that have come and gone. But when we'd do BBQs and people would drink ten to twelve beers and then drive home, I spoke up. And when people would grossly falsify their timecards and lie on expense reports, my boss didn't really have much interest, since he was doing it, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have a more serious manager and things have calmed down now (mostly), but I know that one reason I'll never be promoted here is because I'm on the outside.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't think I want to fit in.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/309179515367106155-5294730645185935298?l=stifledcreativitywastaken.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07483390216311858204noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-309179515367106155.post-42663632954519595512009-04-29T11:19:00.000-07:002009-04-29T11:59:50.883-07:00Given a specific subject to write about, I rarely am at a loss for words. Strangely, things are trickier when I'm given free reign.<div><br /></div><div>On Sunday afternoon, I leave for Paris, France (I clarify only because the kind man arranging a wire transfer for me at the bank somehow thought that the city of Paris was in the "country" of "London"). I am playing catch-up on getting prepared, but things are starting to come together. With one notable exception. Clothing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've never been a fashonista. I place a high value on utility. Even if it sounds simple or naive, I actually quite dislike the expression "Clothes make the man" because I think to judge someone based on what they wear is to do both yourself and your target a disservice. Some of the nicest people in the world have no idea what a pashmina is.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I've always been able to get away with dressing casually. I finally caved in and bought some fancy shoes about two years ago, but I did not mind because they were comfortable and not outrageously expensive (despite being stamped with a Calvin Klein logo). I'd also somewhere along the line picked up a nice blue fitted shirt that I grew fond of wearing from time to time, because it was comfortable and flattering. Blue is definitely my color. A few other dapper knicknacks, but not enough to consitute a significant portion of my wardrobe. I am very, very slowly growing to appreciate dressing up. And I'd like to continue.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am okay with being pegged as a tourist in France. But I would like to attempt to assimilate just a little bit. But shopping is hard by myself. I went to Urban Outfitters last night and couldn't tell if I was looking at men's clothing or women's. And then I noticed they wanted $44 for a shirt. And then I noticed everything was flannel, and that doesn't really fly in Paris in May. So how do I break through the "I can't find anything I like/I need a shove to get me into nice clothes" barrier? Suggestions? I only have a few days, and I refuse to appear on an Oprah makeover show... I'd like to do some shopping in Paris, but I also realize it's probably very, very expensive.</div><div><br /></div><div>As for being more philosophical, here's one for you to ponder (and comment on!): if a man is overweight and a girl looks disdainfully upon him, his friends will sympathize, blame her for being superficial, and say that it's her loss. If a man dresses casually, his friends will sympathize with her, and try to get their friend to go shopping. What's the difference?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/309179515367106155-4266363295451959551?l=stifledcreativitywastaken.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07483390216311858204noreply@blogger.com1