Hi internet! I'm back!
Hi everyone! How y'all doing? I'm still over here kickin' it in Kiev, doing my thing.
In three hours I fly from Kiev to Luhansk, an industrial region in the far west of Ukraine where I'll be observing Sunday's elections. I can't remember the type of plane we're flying on, but as my coordinator put it, chuckling, "Well. You can just tell your grandchildren about it someday. And don't eat first." I'm already a bit skittish on major commercial airliners, so please pity whoever is seated next to me. They'll have a mauled arm by flight's end. Considering drugging self with NyQuil as sedative. Anyway, I'll be deep in Yanukovych territory - pro-government power base - and all the workers have been subtly reminded that they'll be sacked should they vote for the opposition. So we're not expecting too much trouble.
For now I'm in an internet cafe flanked by 250 boys from 12 to 22 all playing Doom. Oh yeah. I fit in. Also interestingly, I'm sitting directly underneath the glass dome from Kriston's post linking to Bessarabska. Hi honey! There's caviar up there or something?
I'm sure I'll have some tales to tell when I return from my small mining town outside Luhansk. As usual, please send me your prayers that 50-cent beers don't cause me to make an ass of myself.
UPDATE
Dateline: five minutes later. Forget my calm demeanor. I'm fucking TERRIFIED; I'm so scared of planes and turbulence and anything that isn't completely smooth and reliable. I freak out on discount airlines, for the love of Christ. I'm going to DIE DIE DIE in a flaming FIREBALL over the Donbass. I don't want to go, this was a terrible idea, and I don't have so much as a teddy bear to squeeze the head off of. You all are dear, lovely people, and I'm sorry it had to end this way. Somebody please water my plants. AAARRGGGGHH.
In three hours I fly from Kiev to Luhansk, an industrial region in the far west of Ukraine where I'll be observing Sunday's elections. I can't remember the type of plane we're flying on, but as my coordinator put it, chuckling, "Well. You can just tell your grandchildren about it someday. And don't eat first." I'm already a bit skittish on major commercial airliners, so please pity whoever is seated next to me. They'll have a mauled arm by flight's end. Considering drugging self with NyQuil as sedative. Anyway, I'll be deep in Yanukovych territory - pro-government power base - and all the workers have been subtly reminded that they'll be sacked should they vote for the opposition. So we're not expecting too much trouble.
For now I'm in an internet cafe flanked by 250 boys from 12 to 22 all playing Doom. Oh yeah. I fit in. Also interestingly, I'm sitting directly underneath the glass dome from Kriston's post linking to Bessarabska. Hi honey! There's caviar up there or something?
I'm sure I'll have some tales to tell when I return from my small mining town outside Luhansk. As usual, please send me your prayers that 50-cent beers don't cause me to make an ass of myself.
UPDATE
Dateline: five minutes later. Forget my calm demeanor. I'm fucking TERRIFIED; I'm so scared of planes and turbulence and anything that isn't completely smooth and reliable. I freak out on discount airlines, for the love of Christ. I'm going to DIE DIE DIE in a flaming FIREBALL over the Donbass. I don't want to go, this was a terrible idea, and I don't have so much as a teddy bear to squeeze the head off of. You all are dear, lovely people, and I'm sorry it had to end this way. Somebody please water my plants. AAARRGGGGHH.
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