Well, I've done it. The last homage to girliness I had is gone. My faux nails. I don't wear make-up (unless I really have to), I don't over think what I wear, I don't pick out cute stuff, I don't spend hours on my hair, I don't read fashion magazines, I don't even wear jewelry on most days. But I had nails. Pretty ones. Sure, they were fake, and usually in need of repair since I didn't *act* like I had nails, but I had them - sometimes they were even pink and sparkly.
However, I'd had enough. Going to "get my nails done" was embarrassing, even for me just to say! Spending the time to do it - bothered me, there were so many other things I could be doing. The other reason for not doing it, it hurt! Ok, so I'm a wimp, but I have small fingers and thin nail beds, and the nail people usually end up cutting me at least once. Oh, and the last reason - cha-ching! That adds up.
Ok, so fine, I've now got unpainted skin, unpainted nails, boring clothes, hell, give me a beer, slap on a penis - I'm a man, now. Oh, wait, I still have to clean the house. Guess I haven't earned that sex change, yet.