"I found this on the beach, and it reminded me so much of you, imperfect but at the same time perfect," she said as she handed me a small, pale shell.
A few years ago, another friend sent a text to me that said, "You're a beautiful mess," after a particularly drunken night out (I'd prefer to think that I was "elegantly wasted"), so maybe she was onto something. Nevertheless, at the time I didn't know what that something might be. I was sure she'd paid me a very high compliment, but I wasn't 100 per cent certain how to translate her actual words. Perfect? And just how imperfect am I?
After spending 10 hours staring at the countryside in the Kingdom of Cambodia -- between central Phnom Penh and The Killing Fields, Phnom Penh and Siem Reap -- from two buses, one tuk-tuk, and one massive ferry that carried the first bus across a river -- I think I finally get it. The views from the bumpy two-lane roads are sometimes stunning, sometimes filthy. A lot of people might see it and shrug, "So what?" But for me, it's always impossible to look away.