The Terminal

Remember that forgettable Tom Hanks vechile, "The Terminal?" We're experiencing a sliver of that airportian middle earth, as a customs snafu during our layover in Taipei has had us relegated to the airport for 24 hours. Something about how we accidentally went through Taiwan customs and then went back through, thus getting our Passports stamped to and fro. Apparently the Chinese gov ain't a fan of such movements, and we were told we can't leave the grounds of the airport. We stayed at the airport hotel last night - it was more like a hospital room than hotel room, with a lovely view of outbound planes and inbound highway traffic. Today it's a long wander of the facilities here. I can't believe I'm in Taipei, and only seeing the airport. I suppose this is a small price to pay for an otherwise fabulous vacation...

I now know how to say "thank you" in five languages, which is very papal of me.

I've been in a happy, heavenly haze all vacation long, and feel it peeling away slowly. I want to stay in said haze - how to keep that while making lists of work 'to-do's, and otherwise? How to stay warm and fuzzy with Steve while he's watching football, and I'm avoiding cleaning the cat box? This, my blog-reading friend, is the eternal question, and this is something I will work very hard to handle.

There is a closeness forged on our vacations that I wouldn't give up for anything. I feel wistful about it at the moment - don't want to think in past tense. Perhaps its purgatory talking.

Time to go survey the food and bev options!

More soon, including the riveting (I'm sure) account of our tour of emergency care facilities on Bali. Never a dull moment with us!