Wednesday, October 15, 2003

W.W.B.C.D.
A few days ago in a photo showing her gorgeous Rosedale sleeves, the lovely and talented Ms. Emdash sported a classic W.W.J.J.D. (What Would Joan Jett Do?) T-shirt. As much as I love Ms. Jett -- thanks for the memories, Joan: singing "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" at the top of my lungs in the schoolyard, circa Grade 5 -- I really must admit that, in real life, I've always been more of a W.W.B.C.D. (What Would Betty Cooper Do?) kind of a gal.

Birthday report: This is the ninth year that Billy and I have celebrated our birthdays together, and we've developed a tradition. Actually, a tradition has developed organically; it was unavoidable, really. My birthday is October 14. We go out to celebrate it and invariably drink a wee bit too much. Poor Bill -- his birthday is October 15. We are hungover from celebrating my birthday and spend the day in a slow-motion fog. At least now we expect this. This year, I think we handled it very well.

(a) My birthday. After writing my birthday blog post, I went home to get dressed up and discovered a parcel from New York in my mailbox: two yummy balls of Regia mini-ringel sock yarn from Cari! I'm stoked, and she rocks! After fondling my new yarn for a minute, I put on a frock, and Bill and I headed out to meet a couple of friends for dinner at our usual after-work bar. Actually, Bill and I went a little early and took a deck of cards, and he proceeded to kick my butt shamelessly in a few hands of rummy 500. On my birthday, no less! Anyway, we had a fun time and many pints of beer over the next few hours. Between the after-work bar and the gay bar up the street -- where "Sex and the City" played on a big screen and three bottles of birthday champagne were somehow consumed -- we bought a disposable camera. If there is a photo on there that turns out not to be disgraceful, I may share. At a certain point, I realized I was not going to be going to work the next morning...

(b) Bill's birthday. We slept in. I got up at ten to do the dishes and make coffee for the birthday boy. He continued to snore. I called in sick to work and then had coffee and knit for an hour or so. Ahh. Many thoughts along the lines of "This is the life!" Learned that the movie channels we get actually play good movies during the day when I'm usually at work. Continued to knit for much of the day (but still didn't finish Bill's so-called birthday sock -- oops). Eventually got dressed. We ended up going out to a nice Thai restaurant for an excellent dinner. After that, we came home, stared blankly at the TV for a while, and then went to sleep. All in all, it was a really good couple of days.

Now, back to reality. Or whatever. (For the most part, I don't feel like my life in Taipei is any kind of reality.)

There's been talk over at Rachael's glass house about strange and excellent names. I think everyone who likes to read -- and especially those who write -- keeps an eye out for exceptionally good names. If it's unusual names you're looking for, just come to a non-English-speaking country where people choose their own English names when in high school or college. There are grown women here named Pony, Kitten, Happy, Fancy, and Unique. There are men named Adonis, Apollo, Neo, King, and Ironside. Do you see a pattern? Anything at all? Oh, and I forgot to mention this last week when I saw it: there's a local restaurant called Radiant World Hollywood Cola Planet Cafe. Hee!

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