March 9th, 2007


(no subject)

I just finished reading a couple of spy novels faintheart lent me. One was Greg Rucka's Private Wars, which containes the following, directed at a young Foreign Service Officer:
You remember who you work for, don't you, Chuck? [...] You work for the Secretary of State, who works for the President, who works for the American People. So you work for the American People, and those people have elected a leader they believe will make the right decisions for them. And that leader has selected a Secretary of State who will pursue his agenda. And your job is to support that agenda, regardless of whether or not you agree with it.

All I could think when I read that was how I somehow managed to save myself from myself when I decided not to pursue the interview process to enter the Foreign Service. I did quite well on the initial test, but thinking things over before I went for the first interview, it occurred to me that I was setting myself up for a lot of unpleasantness - I'm not nearly gregarious enough to make a good member of an embassy staff, even a minor one.

Now of course I am even more grateful. I could be working for the current administration, and have real blood on my hands rather than merely residual guilt for helping move the money along by working for the Department of Treasury. The quote is absolutely true: you have to support the agenda, whether or not you agree with it. Working for the cowboy king and his torture-dismissing posse of pre-emptive-striking cronies at Halliburton-on-Potomac while feeling suicidal would not have been healthy. Thinking over the progress of my depression the last few years and trying to imagine myself in those circumstances and under that pressure makes me really happy to be where I am now.

atomic super-kitty of the future

Xiombarg is home, and has even mostly forgiven her for shoving her in a box, making her ride in a car, and abandoning her last night. Many thanks again to grouchychris for providing transport in his fine vehicle. She's eating and drinking and using the box, all that good stuff.

She's at the "I'm taunting you with my glorious presence" stage, where she meows and comes over and acts as though she wants attention and petting, but stays just out of reach.

Ah well. For reference, I point to the xkcd of a few days ago. Guilty as charged.

US Airways lost your luggage? (esp. in Philadelphia?)

You are in startling and multitudinous company. Check out the horror stories here or give my friend a shout at the address she lists there. She and her husband's costumes for Carnivale in Italy went missing. ::heartbreak:: They are fantastic seamsters/tailors/crafts-people.

They are offering a reward for information leading to the return of the costumes. Other people who have lost things have posted reward information as well.

Enough stuff goes missing at the Philly airport that it really appears to need looking into, IMuHO.