Someone complimented my cheekbones, and it threw me for a loop. My cheekbones have not, as far as I know, previously attracted notice - buried, as they were, under my Irish chipmunk-cheeks and freckles, and "elegant" is so uncommon a descriptor to be assigned to my personal appearence. Flabbergasting. But very flattering.
So, for the day, this compliment has lived with me. But in the oddest way - I started by touching the hard parts of my face, rediscovering what lives under there; the parts of me that would survive if the rest shuffled off the coil. And then, the impulse to see these things extended beyond the dull, familiar curiosity of my own face, and I've found myself looking at everyone I come across - searching for the skull beneath the doughy, plastic skin. I highly recommend it as a field project - the variety is staggering, and it's always good to remind oneself that the part where people can actually see your skull laid bare is coming up, and soon.
So go get some ice cream and make a friend.