This morning on the train I saw a woman walk by outside, talking on her cellphone, who was so thin that her legs looked like a second set of arms hanging from her hips. She was wearing black pants and looked like your typical young SF working woman on her way to the office. Except with the body of an alien. Anyway, I figure I could get both of my hands around one of her thighs with no space in between my fingertips. She was so skinny she kind of pranced like a pony, knobby knees rising and falling as she trotted along in designer shoes.

Sometimes it seems like life is a big ol’ circus, and we stare at those in the freak show just like people paid to a hundred years ago. Anyone who doesn’t blend right in is a freak, and we love to watch them, whether they are loony homeless people talking to the newspaper or anorexic socialites clip-clopping down the road.

Then again, you can see something interesting in almost anyone.

Work here is done, and now I go to the gym for an hour, then home. Tonight’s chores include Japanese study and clothing inventory, but who knows whether I will get around to either.