On bus reading Inferno (for the 6th? 8th? 10th time). I'm on that part where she is talking about every woman's clit. Big clit. Fat clit. Fancy clit. Clits that hang and move and flip around. (And how no one is happy with their clit. Is this true). The woman next to me reads Esquire (always wondering, who reads this crap) and smiles at me. And I'm self-conscious about clit-reading on the bus (we're at war. A new one. did you know that), but clearly she could care less about 10 Tips to Lose That Belly. We're at war and I'm reading about clits on the bus.