Am I a Girl?

Here's the deal. I have never been one to be described as "girly," "delicate," "dainty," or "graceful." However, I think I am getting in touch with my inner girl. I know, I know...I should have warned you to sit down first. Relax, relate, release. Let me splain.

Sign #1 of the "girly" disease: caring about makeup.
Felicia is hooking me up on the Mary Kay tip. Her anti-aging tips and color consultation abilities have created a small monster inside this massive body o'mine that actually is CONCERNED about wrinkles, lines, and whether or not I'm a summer or a winter. Is it weird if I'm actually excited about getting new colors tomorrow?

Sign #2 of the "girly disease: desire for shoes
I almost tried on/bought a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes with my sister last weekend. Let me sum up: we went shopping on Michigan Ave., and I had a hankering for shoes. I saw what I have deemed as the cutest pair of shoes ever. And noticing the Choo label, freaked out at the price, and carefully placed them back on the rack.

Sign #3 of the "girly" disease: actually thinking about dropping $500 on a pair of black heels...that are "cute."
After placing the Choos back on the rack, I actually thought about opening a charge card to get the discount to justify the $500 for the shoes.

Somebody call 911 or the fashion police or the Ghostbusters...there is obviously something wrong with me. What is the deal?!?!

Note to self: Schedule a mani-pedi more often with the sista. Who new parrafin wax could be so fun. Don't underestimate the power of the inner girl...it takes the edge of frustrations with NCAA bracketology.