(no subject)
I woke up this morning feeling very masculine. I wandered around the bathroom in jeans for a while before putting the shirt I wore yesterday on and going downstairs. I selected my blue muscle shirt which I knew I wouldn't be allowed to wear to church, but I was once mistaken for Tony's brother in it without any sort of restraining device, so I felt it suited my mood. I went upstairs and talked to the moth about how masculine I felt. She's very patient with my mood/gender swings, and does her best to take them in stride. She said the jeans were ok as they were nice jeans, but said, "You're shirt's wrinkled, and it's a bit cold. Can't you get a more masculine shirt that's appropriate for church?" I was indignant! "But Moth, this shirt shows my armpit hair! It doesn't get more masculine than this!" Then I realize how much like the guys in my gym class I sounded and did a very masculine victory dance and ate my French toast. I left out my hairclip and observed my very masculine reflection. Woot.
Well, I must go change my shirt.
Well, I must go change my shirt.