Recuperation from the Military

Since joining the military in 2004, I've lived by certain standards because it's my job.  The things I've had to change or alter are things you (the non-military you) probably take for granted. 

My hair is a certain length because the best hair style to fit my face is an "in between" style that is too long to wear down in the military, but too short to pull up in accordance with military regulation.  So I can't have it.  I instead have a bushy rat's nest. 

My nails are a certain length because that's how long I can have them.  They aren't painted because what's the point if they can only be clear or flesh tone? (I actually remember the year they began to allow french tips in the Navy! THRILLING!!!) Might as well leave them be.  (Unless you're in the USMC and wearing your dress uniform.  Then you get the privilege of wearing red or shades of coral!  SNAZZY!)

I stopped wearing earrings because it was too hard to find the specific ones I could wear in uniform in my jewelry box.  And finding regulation earrings isn't exactly an easy task.  (Yes, there's even a regulation for the size and type of earrings you can wear!  There's a regulation for EVERYTHING!!!!)

I've never been too adventurous in the eye shadow department, but even if I had, there's no point to it... plain jane is what I can wear.

Men's boots and shoes are my every day accessory to my khaki top and black slacks.  I couldn't tell you if big belts or skinny jeans are 'in' this season.  But I can tell you the exact measurement from the shoulder to the bottom of your service ribbons and name tag.  And if you don't have your warfare pins correctly measured, I'll call you out on it. 

Last night with Abby and my new Canadian friend, I had a revelation!  I seriously need a full recuperation from my service.  And I'm not just talking about Veteran Affairs compensation for various disability ailments.  I mean, I deserve a military funded make-over to prepare myself to be in the world of NO REGULATION!

I mean, other than no white after Labor Day, no ICP (Insane Clown Posse, aka Freaks) clothes other than on Halloween, and spandex is a bad idea for EVERYONE, there doesn't seem to be many rules when it comes to fashion.  Or maybe I'm just naive.  Maybe there are rules and I don't know them.

I'm pretty sure one of the rules is don't show up to an interview with gnarly man-feet.  That's probably going to be a problem since I have man-feet...they're crusty, dry, and cracked.  The nails are hap-hazardly polished.  I have calluses that ordinarily you wouldn't see in boots, but now that I'm about to enter the working world and I have to wear pretty shoes, I'm going to need to get filed off.  Pedicures will be required.  It might take an industrial team... or hungry fish.  (If you haven't seen the pedicures by fish, check them out.  Nothing says 'I want to feel pretty' like getting eaten by fish!)

I'm going to need an entire head treatment too.  We're talking deep conditioner, full cut and style, and whatever face potions can help erase the decade worth of worry lines I got in half that time.  Not to mention I'm going to need some de-brainwash treatments to get all the damn rules and regulations out of my brain and make room for whether argyle socks, leggings or tights go best with my outfit for the day.