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The Rules

Given that I am now the respectable age of 22, and I have a job watching politicians gut and stuff, I recently launched a personal professionalization campaign. The campaign has very simple rules.
Rule #1: No more drunk hair cuts in the backyard.
This is rule number one for a painfully obvious reason. Moving on.
Rule #2: Talk to people even when they're boring. Call this "networking."
Rule #3: Learn to refer to "hobbies" as "projects."
Rule #4: No more miniskirts in city hall.
I hope to never blend in with the graysuits, but I'm aiming for something respectable. Today's outfit was disasterous. I wore my best professional pants to the Capitol, but on the early morning ride down they got caught in my bicycle chain and promptly ripped up the seam. I have spent all today's hearings awkwardly and anxiously crossing my legs to try and conceal my baggy argyle socks and six months worth of leg hair.
Rule #5: Buy new socks.
Rule #6: And I should probably shave my legs.
Is this anti-feminist? I don't know. But now every elected official in the state is getting an eyeful of my winter coat.
Rule #7: Don't talk to people about my winter coat.
Rule #8: Vigilantly untag self on facebook
Rule #9: Shower most days.
Rule #10: Change clothes often. I am never going to find a pair of professional shoes I can bike 12 miles in on Friday, spill beer on at a house show on Saturday, splatter with paint at a performance on Sunday and still wear back to work on Monday, am I?
Alternate Rule #10: Stop having fun.
Rule #11: Buy an iPhone.
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