I think I mentioned in an earlier post that one of my supervisors is going on a mission to Pakistan beginning next week. If I failed to mention this, apologies. Part of my responsibilities therefore involve preparing reports on the current political situation in Pakistan. I know what you're thinking. "These people are experts, Lesley. Why in the hell do they need you to help them out, you lowly grad student?" Well, the people in my office are generalists (hello, Fletcher!) who focus on larger themes - nuclear terrorism, terrorist financing, domestic criminal law regarding terrorism, etc. When they go on a mission, someone's got to do a little digging on the specifics of each country. That's where I come in. So far, I've put together some briefs on Pakistan's judiciary and police system, both of which are royally fucked up.* I don't know how exactly these briefs are going to be of any use to those UN officials taking part in the mission. If anything, at least they'll know it's a real shit show** before they get there.
Outside of work, I've made some valuable discoveries. One is Donau Park. Donau is only two subway stops from my house and it's absolutely gorgeous. Waterfalls, ponds, beer stands, and rows and rows of flowers, as pictured at left.
A horrifying subway story led me to my next find: Karlskirche ("St. Charles' Church" - pictured at right). After work, I had planned on taking the train one stop in order to swing by the store on my way home. Unfortunately, I'm like a magnet for psychopaths. The guy who sat next to me on the train was simultaneously drinking a giant beer and eating a hot dog covered in mustard - mustard that started dripping down his arm like lava flowing from Krakatoa. I decided that I would wait for him to get off the train first. Twenty minutes later, he was still there. As was I. Only then did I realize that I could spend the rest of my life on that train sitting next to my drunk, mustard-coated hobo friend. I made a break for it at the next subway stop. When I popped out of the station to get some air, I stumbled upon Karlskirche, an 18th century Baroque church.
My third disovery is that European Diet Coke, a.k.a. "Coca Coca Light," is sickening. I can't drink it anymore. This alone might make me reconsider living anywhere outside of North America.
*sorry, Mom
**sorry again, Mom
