There are so many woman things that I renounce.

Baking chocolate chip cookies from scratch because Pillsbury's already done it for me.

Always leaving my hair down, because as much as I love that hair-whipping-in-the-wind feeling, I feel that it gets in the way of the wonderful panoramic view of the places, people, buildings I see all around me. (but, mostly, good-looking New York men.)

Wearing matching under garments. And lace? Please!

And finally, being cordial and lady-like all the time because I can't help having a tawdry mouth. (profanity keeps me sane in this city).

It's like I'm a man sometimes. I hate showing signs of weakness and will not even let The Texan see me cry at sad movies. I love steak and beer. I only wear cologne. I use Old Spice body wash. And when I buy a car, it's going to be a classic old American muscle car. Like a 1975 Mustang. And if I could get away with it, I'd wear ripped stonewashed skinny jeans with a classic white button down shirt and a gold Rolex everyday. And a high pony-tail, of course.

You see...This is still a man's world. But I'm getting good at their game, too.