Haircut from Hell, the sequel:

Most people pretended not to notice. I bitched to Boss, because at this point he is my Office Husband, and he reassured me that it doesn't look that bad, like a (office) husband. Our temp receptionist, who wears conservative but funky dreadlocks and clearly has style, said, "Did you cut your hair?" (Yes, I know it looks like I did it myself while majorly drunk, but I actually paid good money for this.) I made a face in response, and she said, "Why did they do that? That doesn't look right!" At last, a refreshingly honest and sympathetic voice! "That's just not good, it looks like some sixties tv show thing...like the Mary Tyler Moore show or something...." I love this girl now. I think we should hire her. She is a refreshing and honest person. She offered sympathy and a head shake, not "Oh, it looks fine." It helped, just like the sharing of hair horror stories here has helped. It's hair, it grows. I know it's not a huge issue in the scheme of things, but that doesn't stop it from being really shitty.

Hair is, as Bess said so perceptively, a frame for the face. I think it also can send subtle, or not so subtle, signals about who we are - two feet of expensively highlighted blonde carefully arranged just so sexy says Trophy Wife, or a Wannabe. A sculpted helmet is like wearing a sandwich board, "I'll be voting for Bush." My hair just sighs in despair, "I am a middle aged woman who can fucking forget about looking attractive to anybody but the most desperate for at least two months." Just what a woman wants on the brink of her 46th birthday and the first anniversary of her husband's death next month.

Oh, and after barely being able to face the office because my self-image is in the toilet, I had to sit through hours of really, really stupid shit that fell from the adminosphere. Our adminosphere is very, very dense, and in the great Dilbert tradition, it appears to have no connection with anyone who does actual work. Conference calls about piddly shit only self-important administrators can care about until I wanted to stand in the middle of the office and scream, "Fuck this shit, I don't know how you people live with it but I'm gone!"

I am not used to having to deal with such a thing. My reporting channel is to the attorneys. If they're happy I'm doing my job. If they're not happy they will yell at me. I am free to yell back. This is how it is, or should be, between lawyer and paralegal. We are not their slaves, we are not their flunkies, we are watching their backs and doing the background work they would otherwise have to do themselves.

Respect. Boss called me a pain in the ass yesterday and I was not offended because this is how we talk to each other. When one is called a pain in the ass, the proper response is "Yep." I suspect the other attorney listening was somewhat taken aback, his office relationships aren't that comfortable, but this is who we are and how we communicate, honestly and openly. We get tired, moody, crabby, but we respect each other. I can ask him what the hell his problem is without repercussions. He can do the same to me. We are a team, we respect each other, we are comfortable with each other. That's how it should be and that is how it is. Now there's a layer of self-important chicks that fits in here somewhere, but I have been ignoring them as much as possible and intend to continue to do so. Do you know how stoopid it is for me to be asked by a total stranger for a quote about how I feel about working with Boss, or real boss, or whoever? It's sooo annoying. The urge to say "Oh, he's a complete asshole, that's why I gave up a nice office and a secretary to come here, to sit in that very lovely cube and take his abuse!" was overwhelming, but I fear the Adminosphere would not get it. So I am in "Fuck this, I can get another job tomorrow (or at least next month when my hair looks better)" and I have no patience with corporate idiocy anymore. Only my loyalty to Boss keeps me there, but I suspect that if I left he'd get fed up and leave too, so it's in their best interest to call off the adminochickies. And I think the people who matter know it, and God knows I have no problem saying so. There are some very good things about becoming one of the Crusty Old Broads. I'm okay with it.