Some days, okay--most days, I look in the mirror and can barely recognize myself. I mean that in the best way.
But, really, who am I? (by the way, the picture above is from about 3 years ago)
Today, for example, I am wearing a pencil skirt, and a blousy shirt tucked in.
The point of this is, basically, that my bffl (no, seriously, we've been besties since 8th grade and are still going strong), Suzy is a fabulous graphic-novellista and everyone and their sister ought to be talking about how effing clever she is.
Suzy X. in Paris perfectly captures the homesickness, the bummed-about-money-ness, the learning-to-love-the-shit-out-of-the-time-your-having and the this-could-only-happen-here-ness of a summer in Paris.
I adore Suzy, I adore this lil' book. And you should all go give it a long, lingering glance and know that some day, she's going to be a Big Deal. At which point, you can thank your lucky stars (and Me) that you got to see her "when."
And, PS--go check out her blog. It's wonderful, too!