On station...

In Building 4S, waiting for Peter S. to return.

I received an email yesterday about the Kazakhstan gig. It's on, with the campaign starting May 7th or 8th. More detail to follow today, says my contact. One thing I am interested in knowing is if that means leaving on the 7th/8th or being in Baikonur by that time (i.e., leaving somewhere around the 3rd-5th). In any event, it would seem I may just end up leaving for the other side of The Pond™ from Houston.

Je voudrais savoir aussi si le client est français. Ça ne me fait rien, parce-que je n'ai pas peur d'essayer parler en français avec le monde; c'est simplement que je veut savoir. [An attempt to say: I would also like to know if the client is French. It doesn't matter to me, because I'm not afraid to speak French with people; it's just that I want to know.]

The thought of finally hearing something elicits simultaneous feelings of excitement and trepidation. On the one hand, it'll be something of an adventure (all road trips are, whether one realizes this or not); on the other, it'll also be time away from loved ones and familiar places.

Que sera, sera.

Cheers...

P.S. Hopefully, there are no more than three errors in that last sentence!

Good writing...

From new LJ friend ginmar:

Anyway, we did sort of exhaust the hand puppet conversation repertoire, and we had to get moving anyway, so we started to get ready to go. And then Rania came running up to me, waving her hand to show me she had something for me.

It was a rose. It was at that perfect moment, bloomed and fresh, and so fragrant it filled the Humvee. (There’s another sentence I’ll never be able to use again.) I was touched beyond measure.

What this little girl could see from her doorstep was a bunch of sweaty probably irritable Americans---and shell casings, torn branches, and debris from the battles. She wasn’t touched by any of it, even though her house had been. It was us she saw, and she saw us as potential friends. The little girl trusted adults to do the right thing. Her parents must be the most amazing people in the world.

I got out of the Hummer and saw her mother standing at the gate, waving good bye. There are some gestures that are universal----putting your hand on your heart ought to say something. She held her hand over her heart and said her name, which I simply cannot reproduce. But then she took my hand and kissed my cheek, and I remembered other days, in France, where cheek kissing seems charming rather than affected. I kissed her cheek and we stood there and smiled at each other, and then we had to go.

When you think of Iraq, don’t think of terrorists or Saddam Hussein. Think of Rania and her mother’s hospitality, of the American soldiers sweating on her doorstep and sipping tea from little glasses on a ninety-degree day. Muktadi Sadr does not represent Iraq and no matter how many people he kills or attacks, he never will.

Thank you, bandicoot

Cheers...

StonesLaw

From WikiWikiWeb:StonesLaw (a page devoted to a whimsical "law" named in honor of Oliver Stone):

Any evidence which opposes (or tends to oppose) a conspiracy theory was in fact fabricated by the conspirators, and shows just how pernicious the conspiracy really is.

Methinks this hits the nail on the head.

Besides that...

A search of the venerable Amazon.com shows there appears to be only one book published on Wikis. All other references miss the mark, mostly having associations with the fact that 'wiki' is a Hawaiian word. I'm wondering if there's a hole here that needs filling?

That's a heck of a question to consider as we enter the last hour of the shift. All radiograms have been translated, including the much-despised "weekly lookahead plan" (it seems to go on for just about ever).

Cheers...