So I ran out on what could have been an AMAZING networking opportunity today. Um... somehow I don’t think so. It was basically a room full of geologists, geotechnical engineers, mining engineers and me. And as soon as I opened my mouth to explain my role in the extractives phantasmagoria (yes) their eyes would glaze over. Sustainabili... social responsibi....impac.....zzzzzzz.
Most of the men were there because an attractive young marketing pro sent the invite. The young women (all fugly) were there because they’d heard that these ‘sundowners’ are they way to get ahead in the industry. everyone seemed really desperate. More than me. And this young hot marketing pro ‘knows everyone’.
As I ran out of there with a smile stuck on my face, the nice young marketing professional looked bemused. I think she was just about to introduce me to two more pillars of the mining industry. But i knew better, I knew they’d want to hear about our CPR capability, our exploration techniques and our Datamine subscription. And all I wanted to talk about was how adroitly one of our clients had plonked a great big mine in the middle of a Wadi that Bedouins had used as a migration route for centuries, how another client had let a little cyanide seep into the watercourse that all the famished villagers used for their cultivation water, and what methods I would use to engage with the artisanal miners of Angola. Utter content audience mismatch.
Sigh. This is going to be difficult.
love is...
when you're tearing your hair out about things, secretly blaming yourself for things, punishing yourself daily for things...and he stops a minute in the daily routine just to say - you're not that bad you know.
CSI
CSI : NY is the latest craze, and i think this one's going to last. it's still on tv for one thing, new episodes come out every week.
i keep looking for dead bodies everywhere; in the subway, in the fire escape behind my office, in the large slanting wall cavities on the h'smith & city line platform at baker street station (what ARE those things?). i was flinching as i loaded the dishwasher in the office kitchen, subconsciously waiting for the hooded attacker to sneak up. i jumped at shadows as i locked up the office door, last out. on the tube a kid with a huge backpack seemed to be eyeing us carefully, deciding if he wanted to detonate his bomb just yet.
living inside tv shows is very dangerous; your boss can suddenly ask you a question about the proposal you should be working on, and the answer isn't written in the dimples of detective don flack.
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