I’m wearing a collared, button-up, black and white striped dress shirt today. I am also wearing a gold necklace that I almost never wear except on the mornings that I get overly sentimental. This morning I was feeling over-the-top-sappy about my grandma. I do that sometimes.

As a result of these two decisions, (decision to wear this shirt, decision to wear gold necklace) every time I look downward, I feel like my name should be Manny and I should work for the mafia in NYC, cause HEY. I’M WEARING A MAN SHIRT AND A GOLD CHAIN. Needless to say, I’m not exactly feeling feminine today. This aura of manliness isn’t at all aided by the fact that instead of a cute little camisole for an undershirt, I’m wearing a ratty wife beater. Any minute now I’m going to sprout chest hair and have a crap-ton of blackheads on my greasy Italian face.