In which I'm horrified beyond all comprehension...

My students and coworkers have begun to play Celine Dion songs, and it's not a welcome accompaniment to my daily efforts to facilitate change in Burma. It rather reminds me of the saccharine soft rock that's always the very worst part of visiting my dentist - yes, much much worse than the searing dental pain. Pain passes, wounds heals, and teeth are rebuilt, but a long day of Celine songs leaves a black mark on my soul that may as well have been burned in by an arc welder.

I think it's my cue to go home for the day.

In other news, prompted by a conversation with my friend Raf (who's currently in Darfur), I'm beginning to wonder neurotically where my next job's coming from. Something always comes up, but the UN's webwork of personal connections and patronage is a hard thing to break into. Once you're in, you're in, but getting one foot in the door is a daunting task. A few of my friends (like Raf and Natalie) have made that much-coveted transition to well-paid development work, so I know there's a way in... I just have to find it.