Peking University Quad, Wednesday morning; a letter to another dimension
Dear Alanna,
I'm in another country again-- China, this time, studying for a semester at Peking University. My internal clock is all haywire, still, the air is full of smoke, the sound of Cantonese mixed with Mandarin is giving me a headache. Still love it, though. It's completely alien, completely new; in some ways, it's like going to Fandom only more so. Different customs, students from all over the world, an alien landscape, totally different ways of looking at things. I'm a guest here, so that means I get some leeway, but I'm trying to keep up.
But some things are just *wrong*. Do you remember me talking about a backstabbing co-worker? Lyle? He got married last month, to a citizen here. I met his wife today. She's this sweet, shy, barely-looks-you-in-the-face girl, who won't speak unless he tells her it's okay, doesn't have a job, doesn't have a family, acts totally dependent on him. And I thought I saw bruises on her wr This is the guy who framed his foster-father for murder, who killed his best friend when he was sixteen, who just burned down his mom's house a couple weeks ago so there'd be no DNA traces of him, and who smirked at me all through lunch, his fingers curling around the back of her neck like he got away with something. And she acts like he hung the moon. Or like she's afraid not to. I want to smash his face into
Sorry. Just had to get that out. Frustrating to deal with him every day, when I'm worried he knows I tried to get him arrested for murder last month.
Classes here are great. Calligraphy and art, as well as the history and economics I've been studying the last two years. No roommate, I lucked out into a tiny but private room in the dorms here. I've tried about ten different places to eat, the cafeteria food here is crap, and found something exotic and usually terrific at every one.
I'm going back to Fandom for my last graduation next week. Ronan, Chris, Chad. This time next year, I'll be graduating myself from Oxford, and I won't know anyone back there in more than a passing way. Might make it out to one or another L.A.'s later in the summer, to see Zero and the other crew at the Hyperion.
My Centre training is coming along well. They're giving me a few projects to negotiate here; contracts that need a translator. Lyle's trying to undermine me, but he doesn't know the languages well enough to cut deals.
I had a little girl last week. An eight-year-old-thanks-to-Fandom girl. Katrina. Ronan's. She didn't live with me, she lived with her dad. She sounded smart and funny and kind of awesome on the phone.How do you deal with knowing about Aly?
No new guys to speak of. It's been ages, god, I think Ronan was the last date I had. Too busy. Too stressed. No ulcer problems in ages, though.
I'm wondering where you're riding to now; if you're meeting anyone like the Mongol warriors that I saw in an exhibit here last week. I hope Raoul and the others are looking out for you, and that you're escaping the seamstresses now that the wedding is over. Or did Jon commission you a wardrobe as part of his wedding party?
Write when you can. Stay safe. Come visit, when I'm back somewhere with my own space?
Burning a candle for you--
Parker
I'm in another country again-- China, this time, studying for a semester at Peking University. My internal clock is all haywire, still, the air is full of smoke, the sound of Cantonese mixed with Mandarin is giving me a headache. Still love it, though. It's completely alien, completely new; in some ways, it's like going to Fandom only more so. Different customs, students from all over the world, an alien landscape, totally different ways of looking at things. I'm a guest here, so that means I get some leeway, but I'm trying to keep up.
But some things are just *wrong*. Do you remember me talking about a backstabbing co-worker? Lyle? He got married last month, to a citizen here. I met his wife today. She's this sweet, shy, barely-looks-you-in-the-face girl, who won't speak unless he tells her it's okay, doesn't have a job, doesn't have a family, acts totally dependent on him. And I thought I saw bruises on her wr This is the guy who framed his foster-father for murder, who killed his best friend when he was sixteen, who just burned down his mom's house a couple weeks ago so there'd be no DNA traces of him, and who smirked at me all through lunch, his fingers curling around the back of her neck like he got away with something. And she acts like he hung the moon. Or like she's afraid not to. I want to smash his face into
Sorry. Just had to get that out. Frustrating to deal with him every day, when I'm worried he knows I tried to get him arrested for murder last month.
Classes here are great. Calligraphy and art, as well as the history and economics I've been studying the last two years. No roommate, I lucked out into a tiny but private room in the dorms here. I've tried about ten different places to eat, the cafeteria food here is crap, and found something exotic and usually terrific at every one.
I'm going back to Fandom for my last graduation next week. Ronan, Chris, Chad. This time next year, I'll be graduating myself from Oxford, and I won't know anyone back there in more than a passing way. Might make it out to one or another L.A.'s later in the summer, to see Zero and the other crew at the Hyperion.
My Centre training is coming along well. They're giving me a few projects to negotiate here; contracts that need a translator. Lyle's trying to undermine me, but he doesn't know the languages well enough to cut deals.
I had a little girl last week. An eight-year-old-thanks-to-Fandom girl. Katrina. Ronan's. She didn't live with me, she lived with her dad. She sounded smart and funny and kind of awesome on the phone.How do you deal with knowing about Aly?
No new guys to speak of. It's been ages, god, I think Ronan was the last date I had. Too busy. Too stressed. No ulcer problems in ages, though.
I'm wondering where you're riding to now; if you're meeting anyone like the Mongol warriors that I saw in an exhibit here last week. I hope Raoul and the others are looking out for you, and that you're escaping the seamstresses now that the wedding is over. Or did Jon commission you a wardrobe as part of his wedding party?
Write when you can. Stay safe. Come visit, when I'm back somewhere with my own space?
Burning a candle for you--
Parker