Skirt the dress

Yesterday my skirt was a dress - and the belt, usually wrapped around the waist, was wrapped below the bosom to make a 20's style dress.

We were in the middle of Beijing - a city preparing for the 2008 Olympics - modern and big - we were on a rooftop terrace for a 20s themed office party and were accompanied by a pianist, a wii, barbeque, and other 20s costumed guests. It was surreal - a page from The Great Gatsby - as if the bourgeoisie invaded us at that moment.

We met a Swedish professor teaching human rights at Peking University and socialized with interns from Ireland, Netherlands, UK, France, US, the list goes on. The liquid language of choice for conversations was English. As always, the last remnants of conversation boiled down to who would win the US presidential elections next year.

It's times like these I wonder "how did I get here?" How can fiction be so factual?

Today, my dress is a skirt, the belt below my bosom is now relaxed around my waist - a page from The Chronicles of Carol.