Oh the joys of job interviews...

Well, tomorrow I have a job interview. Always fun, job interviews; I've been trying to get this job for 8 months now, but due to changing in staff as well as many delays in communication, or lack of communication, or anything else that's happened around there, it's taken a friggin' long time. But now, tomorrow, July 7, here I am; going in to get interviewed. Honestly, after everything that's gone down, I have about zero hope of getting hired, but who the hell knows anymore?

The worst part for me about an interview is not my nerves at all. For some reason I'm actually not nervous, maybe because I don't believe it's actually happening. Rather, it's the choice of outfit I am to wear to the interview that is the biggest challenge. As I can't see, all I've got to rely on is my family's opinion, and I've now decided to throw their opinion completely out the window and find a few friends who have kick ass fashion sense to help me shop for my clothes. On one side there's Mom. Mom is all about flare, style, bright colours, and pink. Since I'm a couple sizes smaller than Mom, but we're both built the same, she will often give me clothes that she no longer wears. She says they look fabulous on me. We had a few outfits picked out that she said would work for an interview situation. Dress for success, she always tells me. I live with Dad about 90 percent of the time, so Mom gives me a vast collection of clothing and I bring it here, to Dad's.

And then... there's Dad... oi... Now, to give Dad and Betsy, who apparently has pretty much the same mind set as Dad credit, they both work at a college, where they are around "young" people all the time. So this would supposedly give them pretty good insight as to how people my age dress for formal and informal situations. Dad claims that bright colours make me look manic, and he thinks I need to pair a bright something with a darker something. He hates the selection of clothing Mom always has for me because it apparently is "too loud" and while Mom can pull off bright flashy colours, I, apparently, cannot. So when Dad helps me get clothes, Mom thinks they're drab, boring, and just plain ugly. See my dilemma? It's almost like a god damn competition of who has the better fashion sense. Where is my uncle Bill when I need him? Ah yes, just left for Hughston, I forgot. So I'm wearing a black skirt with a bit of pink in it, and a black top. Mom's suggestion. Betsy says the pink's too bright, but no one can agree on anything else. Does anyone else have this problem who can't see? And anyone who can see and knows me real well, I am begging you to help a sister out man. This is ridiculous.