or, "I love this apartment, and I love this god-damn town" .
Before I moved to Boston, only two men had ever told me I was beautiful. One was my highschool friend Highlndr (with whom I've sadly lost touch), and Dave. Now, random men stop me on the street to tell me I'm beautiful. I love this city. Even if most of them are sketchy, middle-aged, and kinda creepy. And it keeps happening when I really need a pick-me-up. Like last night, as I was walking home trying to clear my head of a migraine. Or a few weeks ago, when I was wandering along Mass. Ave. on the verge of tears because I'd lost my keys and couldn't go home. It seems like the whole world is trying to cheer me up, and it's working. This city has told me I'm beautiful enough times that I'm starting to believe it. At least here, at least now.
Allright, enough of that. Euphoria isn't going to write perl code for me. Back to work.
(And I'm not fishing for compliments. I almost didn't post this because it would sound like I was.)
 this is a line from a song by the lovely and talented Liz Nickrenz (www.liznickrenz.com
). Current Mood: euphoric with a headache