yet another continent

Let’s see… Saturday night Rudder and I had dinner at Ruth’s Chris, because we weren’t expecting to be together on my birthday (more on that later). We had the same server as last time (which was in December), who is so freakishly good she actually remembered us, even to where we live. Of course it’s possible that they get so few non-Asians who live in Taipei that we stood out, but still.

Yesterday I said goodbye to Rudder (snif) and got on the plane. The flight was without incident, though a little late. It leaves Taipei a little before 8PM stpos in Bangkok after a couple of hourse, and arrives in Amsterdam at 6AM, so they keep the plane dark and quiet. I slept a fair bit, actually. My only regret is that we weren’t really in Bangkok long enough for me to grab some food. I was hungry and I love Thai food, though I suspect the airport version is probably not the best. Unfortunately my baggage took a while, and so I just barely missed one train and had to wait half an hour for the next. Still beats having to drive two hours after that long flight. Also unfortunately in the process of buying the train ticket I learned that my Dutch bankcard no longer works, because Rabobank has the wimpiest cards ever and they demagnetize at the flutter of an eyelid. Not a major issue, since I had US and Taiwan bank cards and credit cards, but I was planning to spend down my Dutch bank account while here.

Despite the sleeping I nearly finished a small sock – all the time I was makin my previous sock (for myself) the yarn was nagging me about how much more my friend’s 4-year-old would like it than I do, and there was a fair bit of the skein left, so I finally gave in. I have done a few rows more and now just have to finish the ruffly bind-off and then do the (peasant / afterthought) heel. This seems like the easiest heel ever – will be interesting to see if that’s true.

On the plane, I finished Scott Westerfield’s Uglies; liked it very much and will be buying the rest of the trilogy, though I did spot a couple of gaps that made me wonder again where all the editors have gone. Westerfield’s a hell of a writer, but no astronomer. People, please: the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening, predictably. The moon does not do the same thing for nighttime. You cannot tell that it’s almost dawn because the moon’s setting, unless you happen to know when moon set is that day viewed from that place. Similarly, you can’t tell the time of night by the stars unless you also not only recognize the constellations but know what they are doing at a particular time of year, not to mention which way north is. (To be fair, he did have the character taking astronomy lessons. But since she’d only have had them for a few days, I doubt she’d have memorized all that.

I also finished Agatha Christie’s The Hollow; I don’t think I’ve read it before and it seemed to me to have a lot more in it than a normal Christie. Usually she’s the mistress of puzzle and setting, not character. This one (published 1946) also had an amount of sex (not explicit but very clearly implied) and language 9the word ‘bitch’) that surprised me for one of hers that old. There are themes of the balance of love and one’s work – even Poirot has that dilemma, when a suspect says, “But I thought you liked me,” and he sighs and replies, “That is what is so difficult for me. I do.” I know the relationship between Christie and Sayers was sometimes fraught, but I found myself wondering a coupl eof times if this was Christie’s reponse to reading Gaudy Night. It’s about ten years later, though, which probably makes it less likely.
The hotel miraculously let me check in at 10AM, I got my car here, and went to work. On the way there I was thrilled to see that the daffodils are out! I had forgotten they come so early here.

Work was all right; I was actually conscious all day. Still am, even though it’s after 7. There was an interesting discussion at lunch, about American politics, and someone pointed out something I’m embarassed not to have thought of. The person who brought it up is black, born in the Netherlands and lives here now, eats and speaks Dutch, but grew up in Surinam. He asked me why it is Obama is considered black, when he’s half-white and was raised by his white mother. I cited our pre-and post-Civil War history and mentioned that his wife and family are black, which increases the identification; having just looked at some more material on Obama, if it comes up again I think I will point out that many of his chosen battles and his chosen communities are black. Still, that’s not all of him, and it’s a valid question.

I’d like to finish the sock tonight, but I think I’ll just do the bind-off and leave the heel for tomorrow.