That’s it!
Okay, I’m officially a girl. My tomboy tag is almost as good as gone. (Oh, my school friends would know exactly what I was talking about.) Anyway, here are the reasons.

1) I don’t find pink disgusting anymore. I added a pink tee or two to my wardrobe. (Still can’t stand something that’s too pinky-pink, though. But a lil’ pink does seem appealing.)
2) I look at myself in the mirror before I leave home.
3) I carry a comb!! (Neets, you should read this.) (Note: She was my best friend in school, had lovely long hair and was quite desperate to do something about mine.)
4) I’m seriously considering decorating my room.
5) I rate a piece of jewellery as my best birthday present.
6) I spare a moment to think if my shirt and pants complement each other. (Yes, I’ve worn black shirts with dark blue jeans. Yes, they look awful. No, I didn’t care.)
7) I carry lip-guard with me and hate my lips looking chapped and scaly. (Or anyone else’s. Looks very painful, somehow. And oh, imagine having to kiss chapped lips. Ugh.)
8) I bought a purse! Larks. (Ok, I’ve never used it. I still think the wallet is a better invention.)

Yet, somewhere beneath all this the tomboy still lives. And I love her. Yes, she still thinks she’d have made a better guy than a girl. She tries to be a girl, not quite succeeding always. (I have, to some extent, I think. My junior from school walked past me on several occasions till I addressed him. His first words were, ‘Jayashree!! It’s you! (Pause) It’s Jayashree, right?’) Yes, she can be a not-so-bad girl, she discovered. Wondered why she bothered at all, though. Maybe because hormones and nature played their cruel tricks reminding her that George was Georgina after all.