Goodbyes

Well it certainly is official: the only thing between me and the 12 hour drudgery of a plane flight is the CEO running down the tarmac yelling at the pilot to stop (as if 747s were made to stop on a dime). The amazing thing is that I wouldn't mind so much if our intrepid CEO did reenact every romantic comedy ever. I believe it is what the self-stylized experts call Stockholm Syndrome, except in my case the assailant is an entire country and the helpless victim is a clueless technician.
As of yet, I've avoided making serious comparisons between the two countries (key word here is "serious") because I may be a little worried about the inevitable conclusion. In order to avoid a dreary but insightful blog post (we can't have that now can we?) I'll delve into the less serious conclusions:

• Rabbits are wonderful pets; I plan to have a dozen upon my return. But if that old fart Fibonacci is to be believed, I'll get stuck between 8 and 13, which is undoubtedly an uncomfortable position to be in.
• Atheism is less accepted here than most French passports at the INS. In some lines of questioning the locals here will run out of possibilities for me after just two: Christian and Buddhist. I know I shouldn't enjoy these conversations but I can read them like a book, a book that says: "But he's too nice to go to to hell!". Maybe it's the masochist in me showing through.
• I thought they were joking about Christmas in December. I thought they were joking about 3 nannies watching a single child. I thought they were joking about whale sharks with more shark than whale in their blood. When they turned out to be right about all three, it's time I gave up my life as a cynic.
• Text messaging is a fantastic way to communicate. It's socially democratic, more efficient than a call, and text chat is slightly easier to decipher than most 128 bit encryptions. The only problem is when you have a company cell which has been in the hands of too many people you don't want to know anything about. Home loans and free car offers are one thing, but when it turns into clueless sisters wishing you a happy birthday 6 months out of season or jilted mistresses left in the rain on Valentines Day it's high time you go shopping for a hacked SIM card.
• SIM card shopping, by the way, is a hackers paradise. I've never seen an iPhone cracked before last month. At which point I saw 4 iPhones cracked simultaneously off one computer while the stall nearby was peddling hacking services on every phone except those on a very short list. When it becomes easier to list the code you haven't broken it's time to give up eliminating piracy and start taxing it! The hack fest as I like to call it, was bigger and better than an engineering job fair circa 1999, booth babes and all.

That was a rather truncated list but it managed to avoid the true meaning of this post long enough for my total word count to exceed its limit.
See you all on the flipside!