24 June 2010
The best job in the world must be the teenage boys who stand in front of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul and give female visitors a once-over, for propriety's sake. "Madame," I heard one of them say, "Your shorts is too short."
R. & I stood on a street corner for forever last night, talking about trust, self-defeatists, and the zen of letting the waves do what they may. There's always agency, though, when you put yourself in the waves, and you can get yourself out. We stood, we chatted, night breeze blew. I wore shorts, leopard print. I fear though, my shorts is too short.