Procrastination and being a girl

And so it begins...the procrastination.  Since I need to be doing work stuff on the laptop at home, I'll likely be doing more blog stuff.  Because I excel at the procrastination and the distraction.  So, for my part time job tool, I'm required to use Internet Explorer.  Internet. Explorer.  It's mean and cruel and I am none too happy about that. 

I also would like to be working on the photos I took a gajillion years ago.  Only because I need to be working on work. 

I have a topic, believe it or not:  Reasons I am really a girl.  On paper, my apparent gender could be considered debatable.  I'm sure I probably come off as an extremely educated 12-year-old boy, based on the poop, sex, and body odor talk.  But, from what follows, you will see That I Really Am A Girl.

I like pedicures.  A lot.  I like to soak my scary feet in bubbly water, have a Vietnamese boy shape my nails; sand the dead stuff off my heels, fix my cuticles, rub salty scubby stuff on my legs and feet, massage yummy lotion into my skin, and put pretty colors on my toenails.  When he flirts with me and tells me my feet are soft, he might just be aiming for a good tip, but what that little guy really does is melt my girlysoft heart.

If you give me a greeting or notecard with a special message inside, I'm all AWWWWWWW!  It makes my girlyass day.

Kisses and hugs.

Candles.

Pretty (yet completely functional) bras.  I'm a pushover at Victoria's Secret.

I talk about my feeeeeelings.  And I ask you about yours.  Vomit.

I cry during movies and while reading books and while listening to Rod Stewart in my car.  Rod Stewart.  And even while watching sitcoms.  I'm all touched and stuff. 

I drink pink sparkling wine.  I can't imagine anything more girly.  Also sangria.

Babies, kitties, and puppies.

I want my company to see a clean home.  If you're supposed to come over at 5, and you arrive at 4, guess who will be left watching me vacuum and move junk around?  IT WILL BE CLEAN for you.

Indie chick music.

Flip flops.

Fleece throws.

Necklaces and bracelets.

I care what you think.

I want to put on a fancy dress and cute shoes and jewelry and go to a musical so badly it aches.  I want a handsome man at my side who will put his arm around me and make me feel like a princess that night.  GIRRRRRRL!