Tell me you love me. There’s only one key to my heart and it’s hanging around my neck. Old men on the bus stare at my ripped nylons and exposed thighs; keeping- eye contact for far too long, but I don’t care. Even with a dozen statistics formulas running through my head, I can still make time for vintage shopping trips in East Vancouver and it’s well worth it. Cute boys in faux fur and my best girlfriend balance out the terrible coffee I had earlier; this day can only get better.