Dichroic Reflections

The bad jet-lag poem, which I have managed to reconstruct:

No one writes poems about jet lag.
It’s probably obvious why –
that fog in your head,
those brain cells, now dead
mean wordsmithing skills go bye-bye.

No one writes poems about jet lag.
You’re not really s’posed to complain
Because you got to travel
although you’re unraveled,
it’s privilege causing your pain.

No one writes poems about jet lag.
It’s not fascinating or deep.
I’m finding this boring;
The husband is snoring -
I wish I could get back to sleep!

And one written recently that I’m posting here because I know of no market for historical poems, and anyway I’m finding more and more that if your primary interest in sending a poem into the world is to have people read it, a blog may be better than most more formal venues.

Antarctica, 1912

Even the youngest was never so cheerful again
After the ice-fields had frozen their hold on his soul
As sure as their grip on the bodies of frostbitten men.

They chased penguin eggs like other men chase after gold;
Science and glory, the twin stars that lit austral skies
And beckoned explorers to brave inconceivable cold.

Heroes that can’t be diminished by cynical eyes
Foolish decisions that courage has rendered sublime,
Famous last words, brave mortality immortalized.

Mundane, transcendent in that endless rime –
I am just going outside (Oates said) and may be some time.

Dedicated to the memories of Robert Falcon Scott, a great leader and classic example of the difference between leadership and good management; to Apsley Cherry-Garrard, youngest member of the Scott Antarctic Expedition and author of “The Worst Journey in the World”, and to Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, Oxford don, who on hearing news of the Scott expedition and of Lawrence Oates’ gallant death, adjured his students of poetry, “Gentlemen, let us keep our language noble: for we still have heroes to commemorate!”

The jet lag has been bad on this return trip – no problem going, just coming home. Both Friday and Saturday nights (or rather, Saturday and Sunday mornings) I didn’t get to sleep until after 2 AM. On Sunday I woke up at 7, forced myself to get out of bed, had a predictably non-energetic and slightly queasy day, did a short erg piece and showered before bedtime, and managed to more or less fall asleep on time, yay. Until Ted flopped over onto my pillow, waking me out of my initial doze. Unfortunately, not thinking too well because of having been sort of sleeping, I woke him up to push him back, and when he’s woken up soon after falling asleep he has trouble getting back to sleep. So he was tossing and turning most of the night – he woke me again a cople of times, and after the 2AM time I couldn’t get back to sleep because of his moving. At 3 or so I finally grabbed my pillow and headed out to the spare room. There was an online interlude somewhere in there – sometimes it helps me to just get out of bed and do something different, instead of futilely trying to sleep. Somewhere after 4 I finally fell beack asleep, though I roused briefly a few more times before the alarm went off at 7.

I am enjoying being back in the office today about as much as you’d expect.

Also, I wrote a bad poem about jet lag while trying to sleep last night, but can only remember the middle of three stanzas.

Two of them, actually – two of the books I’ve just been reading are Melissa Marr’s bestselling YA fantasy Wicked Lovely, and Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation, by Elissa Stein, Susan Kim, and they’re rather surprisingly alike. Both are brilliant inversions of common ideas: in the former case, the idea that the hero and heroine must end up together, romantically, in a fairy tale; in the latter case, the idea that menstruation is too yucky to talk about and that all women hate it equally.

I’d recommend either to other readers, most especially teenaged girl readers, but I’d include a caution with either recommendation – the same caution, because the books are even more alike in their flaws. The biggest flaw I see in both is a tendency to over simplify history; if I believed either book entirely I’d believe that all women were meek and cowed until modern times (in the case of the fantasy, I’d limit that to human women) and no woman ever had good sex until very recent times. That’s even more odd since both books make the point clear that all modern women aren’t alike in their dreams, goals, desires or dislikes.

In Wicked Lovely, I have a hard time believing that culture has changed so much that simply being a modern woman saves Aislinn from the same games that faery courts have been playing for millennia. (I also have some trouble believing that her grandmother, so protective when it comes to magical menace, has no concerns about Aislinn staying out all night or sleeping over with a boy her grandmother hasn’t even met.)

In Flow, of course I do believe that former laws, cultures, and menstrual products were hugely restrictive for women; what I don’t believe is that all places and all times in the past were almost equally terrible for women nor that no woman ever had good sex (or had an orgasm that wasn’t medically prescribed and ickily clinical) until the sexual revolution of the 1960s. I don’t think the authors are quite intending to make those points, but their history is so simplified that’s the impression given. For a couple more examples, “adam” in Hebrew is related to both earth and blood, but it’s a bit simplified to call it “bloody clay”, and that barbers instead of doctors did bloodletting is not a statement of barbaric brutality in itself, but of the fact that barbers were the nearest thing to doctors that most people could afford to see. (Bloodletting itself might have been barbaric and probably killed more than it cured; I’m only arguing against the idea that the fact that barbers did it is especially telling.)

So in summary, both books: brilliant, well worth reading. Just keep your critical faculties engaged while you’re in them.

It’s very interesting seeing how the evolution of online social networking sites changes where my birthday greetings come from each year. This year, the vast majority of them were on Facebook. I got birthday messages from over 1.8% of my graduating class from high school, which is pretty amazing, considering there were 700 of us. And it’s *because* of Facebook; these were all people I hadn’t seen since high school (one exception, but that was last summer at a gathering that was planned on you-guessed-it). Those were outnumbered by birthday wishes from people I’ve never met in the flesh, though once I add in the online ones I have met and the ones I originally knew in person, I think the ones I’ve met outnumber the ones I haven’t, which is probably the first time that’s happened in a few years.

(I know some people don’t like being found by old schoolmates; my high-school years weren’t the high point of my life, but they weren’t a slough of despond either, so I do enjoy catching up with all those people.)

It’s 15:30 and the first of my colleagues has just left work for the day, which reminds me of one more thing I look forward to about moving here: flextime. The Taiwan office doesn’t have any, and I’ve had it in US jobs (either officially or de facto) for so long that being required to stay until a certain time just feels like I’m not being treated as a professional. (It’s particularly annoying when you’ve worked long overtime hours earlier in the week.) The colleague who just left comes in at 6 or 6:30; I’m wondering if I could do a less formal schedule and just come in late (and stay late) on Tuesdays, which are market days in the Centrum. From what I know, that’s the best place to buy fresh meat, fish and produce here. There’s one on Saturdays on the norht side of town, so if I can’t flex that way I’m not totally out of luck, but the Saturday market is farther away and I’m sure it’s more crowded.

I have also been enjoying the cafeteria here (for values of “enjoying” meaning “not actively dissatisfied with” – it is still a company cafeteria, after all). They have cold sandwiches and hot panini-style ones daily (both premade), two hot platters (meat and vegetarian), often something like sausage rolls or krokets, and two kinds of pre-plated salads. There are also several types of bread, cold cuts and cheese, a salad bar that’s fresh if not extensive, and thick and thin soups, so even if nothing looks good I don’t go hungry. In contrast, the Taiwan cafeteria has a choice of two platters, each with an odd (to Western eyes) combination of a couple meats, some vegetables, and rice. For instance, there might be meatballs, a bit of breaded fish with sauce, overcooked cabbage, rice, and bits of seaweed tied in knots (don’t know what those are called). Or spaghetti with meat sauce plus clammy french fries, and similar vegetables. The plates are filled and handed out by cafeteria ladies; it is possible to ask for more of one thing and less of another, but that’s tricky if you don’t speak Chinese – they’re a bit back in the kitchen area. So the caf here is definitely enjoyable, by contrast.

I haven’t been good about working out, but all the walking I do here is appearing to have an effect, or else the trousers I wore yesterday have stretched out. But they’re lined flannel, and even if the flannel stretched, I doubt the lining would.

Also, clean air! I can see through it! And they have heat inside when it’s cold outside. En nederlands is zo veel makkelijker dan Chinees! (Vindication: I ran that last sentence through dictionary.com’s translator, and the only thing they’d phrased differently was that I had “zo veel” as one word.)

On the down side, I think Ted’s first trip here is three weeks after I move Might be a little less, if I’m lucky.

I am dizzy, still or again. I’m getting very tired of this; it’s been noticeable, on and off, throughout this whole trip (which eliminates the idea that it has something to do with Taiwan air pollution). One problem is that I seem to have had a whole smorgasbord of different types of vertigo: this doesn’t seem to be the BPPV one because it’s ont strictly tied to tilting my head. It’s not about low blood sugar, because food doesn’t make a difference. There is nothing much wrong with my ear/nose/throat system that I can tell, except that my sinuses are still adjusting to a much drier climate. It’s not anything awful like a brain tumor or aneurism (opinion of the doctor I went to in Taipei) because it doesn’t come with headache or nausea.

Earlier in this trip it felt like it *might* be related to my eyes’ continuing dislike of focusing together – it feels less like that now, but is still possible. It does seem sensitive to motion – I notice it more when walking than when sitting, more at higher speeds in a car. It doesn’t really seem to be impairing my balance at all. It also doesn’t seem to give me any problems with driving, but I only have to drive on sidestreets here, no highways. I’m still avoiding highway driving, especially Taiwan highway driving, but that’s no great problem for my remaining time there. (Being a passenger seems to be OK, but those two episodes of waves of dizziness while driving on the highway in November and January were kind of scary.)

The Taiwanese ENT and opthalmologist, didn’t have any answers, and when I had a carotid artery scan as part of my annual physical it didn’t find any problems (a recommendation from the opthalmologist because the carotid brings blood and oxygen to the retina, so since it was one of the tests available I had it done). I’ve been hearing lately about peopel having viruses causing vertigo, but I have no fever or other symptoms, and this has been hitting me on and off since November. If it’s not better in a few weeks, maybe I’ll go see if Dutch doctors have any more ideas. It’s more of an annoyance than a disability, since it hasn’t actually stopped me from doing anything (even the highway driving was more of a worry than an actual problem) but it is annoying and I’m ready for it to stop already.

ETA: Ted theorizes that under-hydration is a factor in this. He may be right – it seems to be a good guess anytime I’m feeling less than great for no apparent reason – but it isn’t the only factor because I get dizzy even when well hydrated. Just a bit less so. Also, it seems to be more an internal feeling than any external manifestation – not only do I not fall down, but I don’t notice it at all in moments of distraction, including while crawling around on the floor just now lowering my desk. (Desks that can be lowered without help from the Facilities department, using only an Allen wrench that stores in a little hole built into one leg = good design!)

On another topic: one weirdness that can occur when you work at the same place as your spouse, is when you are invited to a dinner pretty much just as “significant other” but someone sends you a meeting notice for it.

We went rowing twice over the weekend, just because we could – or thought we could. On Saturday I went out with my old partner. She has a new doubles partner now who I think is a better match for her – older and less experienced than I am, but bigger and stronger as well as very dedicated to improving – but she’s generally up for an extra row. It was nice to get to go out with her again, but YIKES! I haven’t been in a boat since October and it was horrible – I felt like I wasn’t getting full compression, due to increased gut and (for some odd reason) less flexibility in my shins, though it did help a bit when I moved my feet out a bit. That forced me to keep my knees too far apart at the catch, which isn’t great for blade control and set. It’s just one of those things where the only cure is lots and lots of distance on the water. On Sunday, she wasn’t available so I went out in a single. It was a bit windy, but I’ve been out in a lot worse – I may be rusty but I’ve also been rowing for 21 years, so even though someone on the dock said “You are courageous to go out in a skiff (Dutch for single) today!” it was never really scary. However, it was even colder than Saturday, and when told that I had to turn around after 1.5 km due to ice by the first bridge I decided that I wasn’t that gung-ho. So I came in and did some weightlifting with the boathouse equipement (some free weights but no cage; I did deadlifts, bench press and some step-ups and static lunges) while waiting for Ted and his doubles partner to get back in.

We’ve been eating really well while here (“well” in the gourmet sense, not the health-food sense) but I’ve also been doing a ton more walking during the day; once I’m here and able to walk more and get on the water more, I think I’ll be in a lot better shape even without making any concerted effort. Being able to cook for myself will also help.

Which reminds me: the apartment kitchen has five stove burners, but the small combination microwave / grill / convection over strikes me as inadequate. I plan to buy a large cast-iron Dutch oven to help with that problem. (Perhaps that’s why they’re called “Dutch” ovens”? Since I don’t have much experience with one, suggestions for what to make in it would be welcome, as well as opinions on what size is most useful.

I finally finished my Laeticia socks yesterday, begun at the beginning of last October. This is why I don’t like to have more than a couple of knitting projects ongoing at a time; I feel like a slacker when it takes me five months to finish a pair of socks, even though the reason for taking so long is that I began and finished three dishcloths, a hat, a scarf, an entire freaking sweater (with complex cables, even) and a shawlette in that time, not to mention part of another sock and about a third of a lap blanket. OK, wow, maybe not such a slacker – thanks to Ravelry for the chronological list. Also there were reasons to start all those other projects when I did, either for presents or to have winter things done before spring or to knit up yarn I’d been given. Anyway, Laeticia – I can’t take a picture right now, but here’s one of the first completed sock. You can take it for granted that the second looks the same:

I checked this morning: everyone I work with is OK from the earthquake. I was pretty sure they would be, but it’s nice to have it confirmed. Still, I’m glad we missed it (since Ted and I are both in the Netherlands at the moment.) The boss mentioned that his power went out – any earthquake that happens down on the south end of the island and is powerful enough to cause outages in Taipei is not one I feel a need to experience in person.

I had a small emergency today: went into my purse to grab some money for lunch and found that my wallet wasn’t there. I’d used it last in paying for dinner last night, so I figured there was a high probability my purse wasn’t closed and it fell out in the hotel room, and a somewhat lower chance I’d somehow left it in the restaurant. Not having credit cards while on travel would be difficult to say the least so I decided it merited a rush trip back to the hotel room. Fortunately it was there; while I was back in the center of town I decided to get passport photos taken, because I need them for my residence permit application. So now I have a bunch of accurate-but-unflattering small photos, but I don’t need to worry about it tonight.

I also picked up lunch while I was back. On my first trip to the Netherlands, I concluded that dinners were great because there were so many different cuisines available, but that Dutch lunches are largely limited to cheese sandwiches or ham-and-cheese sandwiches. In the main I haven’t seen any reason to alter that opinion: OK, if you want junk food you can get croquettes or sausage rolls, and strictly speaking you might also be able to get soup or perhaps a salmon sandwich, but in the main? Cheese or ham-and-cheese. I don’t like ham much, so the choice was obvious. At least they’re often *good* cheese sanwiches – brie on a crisp-crusted baguette in this case, though adding some vegetables other than lettuce shreds would have improved it greatly.

I got to see my new apartment today, and was very happy to find it’s on the 29th floor! This is in a town with about three tall buildings, so the view is fabulous. Otherwise, the apartment’s OK: furniture by Ikea, more storage than I’d expected in a Dutch flat, reasonable fridge with an actual freezer (small by US standards, smaller than the one we have in Taiwan, but much bigger than the one we had here before and that didn’t have a freezer at all), parking in the basement, spare bedroom with a double bed. It has enough room for my bookshelves and erg, no problem. There’s a small storage room in the basement for my bike and such. The kitchen has decent cabinets plus a pull-out cutting board.I’m definitely looking forward to having a dishwasher again! As in our last place, the heater in the bathroom is also a towel rack – nice in winter to have the heated towels. And I forgot to ask, but being a new-ish high-rise, it’s pretty sure to have air-conditioning.

The downsides are that it only has one of those combo microwave/over/broiler things that so unimpressed us in our last place (though this one is a little bigger); the stove is glass induction (ditto with the previously-unimpressed) though it does have five burners – we only have three in Taiwan. But those three are gas and get very hot, fast. lack of real over isn’t unexpected, and maybe these burners will be better than the last place – I plan to buy a good cast-iron pot (I’m thinking of splurging on Le Creuset) which should work better on it. On second thought, I’m not really sure if the stove is glass induction – it’s got a smooth top, but it looked more like metal discs in there. The other downside is only one toilet. Still, most of the time I’ll be the only one there. And when Ted’s with me, at least the toilet is separate from the main sink / shower. The shower’s tiny, but that’s to be expected. No tub, but I never use one anyway. Very oddly, the main bathroom also has a urinal. Never saw that in a private home before.

It’s convenient for restaurants – there are a whole bunch by it that I haven’t tried out. It’s not quite as close to supermarkets as our last place, but still walking distance. Assuming it all works out, as it looks like it should, I think I’ll like living there. The view is the best part; there are windows everywhere. It really feels like an aerie; I shall perch there like the Eagle of Gwernabwy. (Spelling?) Or at least the Eagle of Eindhoven, which has a lot less myffic resonance but does alliterate.

And now for another benefit of Eindhoven living; I am off to the biweekly meeting of the local knitting group. I hear they have a couple new American-expat members, too.