Cosmo coach gives boyish girl her task for the day...
Boyish girl: Oh fuck!
Cosmo coach: Oh my God! You just didn't curse.
Boyish girl: What, it's just an expression!
Cosmo coach: You can always say fudge!
Fudge? What the fudge? Err, doesn't sound good... Aside from being a professional athlete, another half of my biggest frustration is to actually be a girly girl. For reals. Well, I do make-up, yes. I try. But I can only sigh whenever I see young pretty girls walk by me with such a posture, a demure aura that can easily turn heads. Not that I'm aiming for that kind of charisma, but I just want to be a girly girl even in the littlest way possible... emotionally, physically, and ethically.
Today, going to church, I once again attempted a style. I wore this pink blouse that had been stuck in my closet for the past couple of years, matched it with a pair of black slacks, some pearl earrings with necklace to make me look expensive, and a pair of one-inched heeled sandals. For the first time in a long time, I felt like a lady. A grown up one at that. But not even half way through the mass, my feet were already itching due to the edge of them damn sandals. I swore not to wear them ever again. I'm pathetic.
Not only do I poorly execute femininity in the way I present myself physically, but as well as how I control my emotions and the way I act around people. Honestly, my piehole is almost unfiltered. In a house centered by democracy, I have the power to blurt out what I feel is needed to be said. Derogatoriness may be inevitable. Well, it is. So I can totally relate to the quoted above. A friend of mine once asked me, "what do you get from cussing everytime you feel like crap?" I replied, "it's my own little way of venting, unless you wanted me to charge you". See? I am far from being the girly girl I want me to be.
I don't think I'm at a worst-case-scenario (yet). I'm wearing boho skirts, so I think that's at least, a girly thing. This is tough though. I have now to start controlling my eating habits in the Chinese buffet, walk like a shiny plastic, and talk like I'm from Laguna Beach. Fuck, that's suicide! I think this takes serious rehabilitation.