We're all going to die!!

Marketing people always push their boundaries in their continual search to attract more and more customers. This following example, though I don't think I'm going to buy in (courtesy of student budgets), made me laugh and ponder (which always gains brownie points in my book):

Awesome isn't it? I kind of wish I didn't have years of tuition in front of me to pay... otherwise, I would jump on the first plane to Brussels or Vienna or (gasp) Prague. But hey, if the world does end on the 21st then I guess I don't need to worry about that do I? Yeahhh.... wishful thinking!

But leaving aside marketing-induced impulsive behavior and whether the world will end (or not) in a week and a half, I think that this is a good opportunity to take a moment (now that I can actually afford to do that) and reflect on what is important, to see the big picture on what we have accomplished, on what we want to accomplish, to show the people in our lives that they are important to us and that we appreciate them. Even if  our lives continue past December 21st, they are still short in the grand scheme of things and it's never too early (or too late) to start working on your life, on who you want to be and to just smile and say thank you. So here's my bucket list for the upcoming end of the world:

1) Say thank you to everyone who has endured me during the good and the bad times, who picked me up when I was at my worst, who encouraged me when I thought it was pointless, who inspired me to go on, who made me smile and laugh, who went along with my madness.

2) See the Geminid meteor shower on December 13th. Please clouds be nice and stick this one out.

3) Apply to university and go back to my first love: science.

4) Get a new phone!! I can't believe I managed to tough this one out for 4 and a half years...

5) Exercise

6) Go to a JMSB party. They say that we have the best parties in town. Well I'm ashamed to say that after 3 years here, I still haven't been to any... So I missed Frosh, I missed the Halloween parties, but I'm not going to miss the end of semester party!

7) Research the subject of illusion of control in communist economies.


So there it is! I think it's more than enough for less than 2 weeks. Oh no, wait I forgot one:

8) Restart my Flirting with Red Balloons project on the different theories of happiness. Yep! I'm back!


My personal opinion is that you only live fully when your bucket list becomes your to do list. Maybe I should make that my philosophy for next year haha!

Happy last weekend before the end of the world!

Aneurysm

It's been too long. I kind of miss writing here. I just don't have the time right now. However, since today (and by today I mean Monday, even if it is technically Tuesday, but I haven't slept yet so I'm still allowed to call it Monday) was the first day of the week when I officially die and go to hell (if I'm not already in hell), I felt like this song was kind of appropriate. Here's to the end of the week which is coming way too soon and at the same time not soon enough.

Red balloons are starting to lose air

I've kind of failed to keep up with the schedule that I imposed on myself on this project. And it probably won't get any better in the next month. What can I say? School's a "witch with a b" right now. BUT I will finish this project before the end of the year! Even if it means doing a post every day during the month of December! Which will probably be the case... So I officially announce that my weekly posts are postponed until December 9th.

 

Free fall or how a busy schedule forces you to postpone

I am ashamed to say that today I have nothing. My exams and projects are cramming so much of my time that I haven't had any time to research any new theory this week. So I guess that all I can offer right now is a promise for a 2 for 1 deal next week. And I can leave you with this wisdom freshly squeezed from my personal experience during the past couple of days:

Happiness is finding the courage and strength to do what has and is needed to be done at the expense of what you actually want to do. Happiness is finding within you the power to follow your instincts and swallow your pride. Happiness is making someone else laugh when they need it the most. Happiness is being at your lowest and being able to gain perspective. Happiness is being able to say yes more often than you say no.

Happiness is in the mind of the beholder

I never really explained yesterday's post and when you present happiness as your brain rationalizing "it's not so bad" it kind of needs a few extra words. I know they're excuses, but I was falling asleep in front of my computer last night. So here's my take on it.

Dan Gilbert's explanation on how we find happiness is not the typical glamorous self-help 10-step process that we follow and then find eternal happiness. I think what he's saying is that no matter what we do, no matter how much we screw up, we have a built-in safety net. And as long as we let go and let ourselves fall, we'll be happy.

I had a professor discuss this philosophy in class this week and she presented natural happiness vs synthetic happiness this way:

Natural happiness

You're single and you go this friend's party. You get there, you get yourself a drink and sit in your corner looking around. And all of a sudden, you lock eyes. There he/she is. You both can't look away. You are drawn to each other. The rest of the room doesn't exist anymore. You walk towards each other in perfect synchronicity. You meet and this is IT! You date for 6 months, get married have 2.1 kids and live happily ever after.

Synthetic happiness

You're single and you go partying and drinking with your friends every week. You get wasted every time, you do some crazy stuff and overall have a great time. Then the years pass, you graduate, you get a job in a bank, your cool friends are all splattered all over the globe and you never see them anymore. Then you reach 30, you start feeling the pressure mount so you just settle on someone and get married. Some more years pass and the pressure comes back so you eventually end up having a kid. And you don't want too much of an age difference, so you have another kid. And before you know it you're 45 and you start wondering how much of your life you chose and how much of it just happened on you.

And at that point of the story, one guy in the class just let out this loud groan in which you could REALLY feel the pain. His worst nightmare coming true in the space of 5 minutes. But honestly, I think that this is the really crucial point in the story. Because here you have a life-changing choice to make. Either you stick it through and make the best of it or you pick up your bags, leave everything and start over. I think that religious people for whom divorce is NOT an option just might be happier because they don't have to struggle with the choice and then feel miserable with whichever decision they make. Because let's face it. If you do leave your wife/husband and kids, how can you live without remorse (and be sure that your kids will make it a point of duty to remind you of it at every family reunion that you're still invited to). But it you stay, you'll always wonder what your life would have been like if you had the courage to take a chance. And since american societies really place this kind of individuality and the whole "follow your dreams to the end of the rainbow where your reward is patiently waiting for you" crap, well you'll always feel like you somehow failed. However, realistically speaking, most of us don't get their Hollywood picture perfect ending. And I've already said this, but the chances of finding THE ONE are quite slim. Even if the mushy theories are true and there is one perfect person for me out there, I really don't want to wait until I'm 60 to meet him. In the mean time, I have a life and I have to make the best of it. Now the only problem is deciding when exactly is the time to give up the freedom to go back. Should we settle at 20? At 30? At 40? I have an inkling that the answer is not the same for everyone. And it probably sounds something like "when you're ready".

On a lighter note, here's my own personal brand of happiness these days:

Vanilla Rooibos tea! It's like heaven in my mouth! And I only bought it because I broke my dad's tea pot and had to go to David's Tea to buy him a new one. It's nice how things work out sometimes, don't you think?

Dan Gilbert - The surprising science of happiness

So part two of my little project brings a bit of merit to the age old phrase "All is for the best in the best of all possible worlds". I don't know if it's a philosophy on giving up, but in any case it brings some insights into the physiology of happiness. Dan Gilbert is a professor and researcher at Harvard in the department of psychology and he spent many years looking into the concept of happiness. And here is a talk he did for TED. Absolutely brilliant!

 

James Montier - If it makes you happy: The Psychology of Happiness

I'll start with already done research.

James Montier is an investment analyst working for Société Générale and he has written numerous articles about the stock market and behavioral finance. But he also wrote an article on what his idea of happiness involves and it breaks down to 10 rules to follow. His complete article can be found here.

• Don’t equate happiness with money. People adapt to income shifts relatively quickly, the long lasting benefits are essentially zero.
• Exercise regularly. Taking regular exercise generates further energy, and stimulates the mind and the body.
• Have sex (preferably with someone you love). Sex is consistently rated as amongst the highest generators of happiness. So what are you  waiting for?
• Devote time and effort to close relationships. Close relationships require work and effort, but pay vast rewards in terms of happiness.
• Pause for reflection, meditate on the good things in life. Simple reflection on the good aspects of life helps prevent hedonic adaptation.
• Seek work that engages your skills, look to enjoy your job. It makes sense to do something you enjoy. This in turn is likely to allow you to flourish at your job, creating a pleasant feedback loop.
• Give your body the sleep it needs.
• Don’t pursue happiness for its own sake, enjoy the moment. Faulty perceptions of what makes you happy, may lead to the wrong pursuits. Additionally, activities may become a means to an end, rather than something to be enjoyed, defeating the purpose in the first place.
• Take control of your life, set yourself achievable goals.
• Remember to follow all the rules.

Flirting With Red Balloons project

Yesterday I was talking about perfection and how it could be counter productive to the pursuit of happiness. And this morning I remembered an article I read a couple of weeks ago by James Mortier called "If it makes you happy: The Psychology of Happiness" where he gives 10 rules to follow for a happy life. And though I don't think that one article has all the answers to this very thorny question (not to mention that we are all different and we don't all have the same recipe for happiness), it might hold part of the equation.

Whether you're religious or not, whether you're young or old, whether you have a Ph.D. or you can't even read, no matter who you are and what you do, pursuing happiness is in a sense your life's quest. Sartre said that as human beings we are responsible for our own lives. And because, when we come into this world, the universe doesn't hand us any script or particular purpose, it is our job to find a purpose and a place in the world for ourselves. Pursuing happiness seems like as good a purpose as any to me. Plus, when you break it down, every life goal comes down to an honest shot at happiness. Whether you're trying to save the world or just doing a 9 to 5 job and then coming home to your cat. The only problem is that sometimes we get sidetracked and lost in the nitty gritty details and we forget to look at the big picture.

So here's the thing. Right now, I need a hobby other than watching stupid TV series (wretched habit... almost like letting someone else live your life for you). And since I'm constantly doing research about the stock market, might as well throw in some research on how to be happy. Therefore, I had this brilliant (or insane depending on how you look at it) idea. We have exactly 12 weeks left until the end of the year. So every week, I'll post a theory or philosophy about happiness. And to complete the loop on the scientific method, starting next year, I'll test each one of them during one month and then post my evaluation of it. I do realize that this methodology is inherently flawed from inception as some theories might take more than 30 days of experimentation in order for the full effect to be seen. However, I'll include that in my evaluation and adjust as I go. Also, some theories might include elements kind of hard to test out under present circumstances (such as fall in love and start a family). Well, I'll deal with it when I get there. This project might be a total failure. But at least I tried it out.

So here it is! 3000 years of philosophy and self help books condensed in speed dating style. And to be cheesy until the end, let's call this project Flirting With Red Balloons (not the best title I ever came up with but I have other things to do today than ponder upon this question... soooo shall we say subject to revision?)

Pursuits

I really don't have time for this but I feel that if I don't get it out now, it'll probably choke me as I walk towards my bus stop. And as a side note, I am wondering how healthy it really is to be writing all this down on a blog instead of just telling it to an actual person. It probably ties in with everything I guess. Paper, or in this case electronic bits on an unknown server somewhere in the world, they don't talk back, they don't argue. They take all your arguments as being the ultimate truth. You cannot be wrong as there is no one to disprove you. And this brings me to my main point: perfection. I do believe I have been talking about this before. Naturally, as it has been on my mind constantly for the past couple of years. Perfection put on a pedestal. Perfection elevated up to an art. Perfection on a white frame hung up on the wall. Perfection pursued with a tenacity that becomes maladive. I think I read somewhere that perfectionists also tend to be procrastinators because, unless they have that perfect idea on how to start the job (and let's be honest, how often does that happen?), they will put off starting to work on it, waiting for divine inspiration to strike. And when that doesn't happen, you eventually run out of time and do it last minute in sictir simply because you don't have any other choice. But anyway, this is not supposed to be an apology for why I'm constantly doing my assignments at 2 AM the night before I have to hand them in. I guess that what I'm trying to say is that the  pursuit of perfection and excellence is ingrained in our society (just look at the presidential elections in the US... you're not allowed to have one single fault) to the point of it becoming a part of our nature. Every new year we pledge that we will become better, healthier, more organized, more loving, more open, etc. Only to fail miserably every single year. And then we beat ourselves up over it. So my question is this: perfection might be a pretty concept (kind of like unicorns), but does it make us happy? I might try my hardest to be critical and smart and thin, but does that make me happier than the poor slob who's laughing his ass off watching Charlie the unicorn. And after all what is happiness? Yes, I know, 3 000 years of philosophy haven't been able to answer that question, what the hell are my chances of figuring it out? Probably slim to none, but there are some questions that never leave you. And maybe when you can stop worrying about the end, you can actually enjoy the ride. Maybe a better strategy would be to pursue the perfection of each moment and take the chance that the end result would be less than perfect.

Limits on infinity

What I love about being in school is that I re-acquire the love of learning. As human beings, we aim for the easy button on a daily basis and in the absence of constraints we would probably spend our life in front of a TV, X-box or bottle of (insert favorite alcohol here). Drugs are also an acceptable substitute or complement to the bottle of (insert favorite alcohol here). So what I like about school is that, after the first 3 weeks of depression during which it kicks my butt out of lazy mode and into action, I actually feel like I'm starting to move ahead and discover new things! Today's picks are James Montier's theories of happiness and definition of a specialist: people who learn more and more about less and less, until they know absolutely everything about nothing. Ah the power of limits on infinity!

 Also, thanks to behavioral finance I finally realized what my problem in life was: status quo bias. Some people call it laziness, others call it a fear of the unknown, either way it's an inability to move out of one's comfort zone and keep things the way they are. This year I started working on it, but I still have a long way to go I guess. Here's to trying many new things in the future (raise glass of favorite alcohol here).

 Now back to study if I want to go to the World Press Photo exhibition tonight! And I promised myself I would not miss it this year!

Life is an endless search. For security. For happiness. For love. Life is an endless quest on a road with infinite ramifications and possibilities. But sometimes, rarely, sometimes, paths cross and you come face to face with yourself. Like looking through a mirror into the past. Going full circle and coming back at square one only to exchange a smile with mini-me. Listening to this song makes me feel like I've stumbled upon an old friend that I though lost forever. Either I've changed or Linkin Park went back on their creative steps, or we're both meeting half way, but somehow I feel like I'm 14 again. And it feels great!

Answers in Wonderland

It's funny how the older I get, the more I need silence. Complete silence. Sometimes I wish I could slow down everything. The trains passing by, the sun going up in the sky, the Earth inexorably turning aroung its axis, my thoughts going around in circles again and again around the same topics in an endless spiral that never reaches its origin. I now realize that crossing the ocean is not enough to find peace or serenity. Because the storm is within and no matter how far I go, it will just follow me to the end of the world. The truth is that I always wanted to solve everything through logic, reason and organisation. But the more I think, the less I know. And that doesn't make sense... And the fear never goes away. And the more I want to slow down, the faster the world seems to spin. In these moments, you feel like a small child too afraid of what is on the other side of the window. And when reality becomes stranger than fiction, maybe we're better off on the other side of the looking glass.

I wanted to embrace change... but not this kind of change. I can accept people growing up, getting married and having kids. But I was not prepared for changes in geography... Benoit Lefebvre was talking about changing the sofas around in our heads. Sure Ben, that sounds good... maybe we should all take 5 months off and just study the great social questions of the world. Except.. wait, we kind of don't have the time for that! So instead we'll just butt head on into each other and the last one standing will be the one who's right. 

It's funny how in the end the difference between theory and practice is just emotion. I remember my Theory of Knowledge class where Brian Aboud taught us the different ways of knowing. Empiricism, reason, language, some other stuff that I forgot and... emotion. And I never understood how emotion could teach you anything. I always thought it could motivate you to learn, it could bring inspiration, but never any actual knowledge per say. Well, emotion is the difference between a vague theoretical knowledge of social unrest in Syria and a practical, bone-chilling knowledge of social unrest in Montreal. It's the difference between the pieds noirs talking about their experience of the Algerian war and their forced immigration to France and the growing possibility of an independent Québec with all that it would imply for the immigrants already established there.

I'm tired of thinking. I wish I could separate instincts and biases from actual reasons. Ironically, I don't even want to put in the effort of creating Wonderland. After all, it would be nice if the Mad Hatter would just knock on my door tomorrow and give me the answers. Twisted, irrational and absurd answers, true, but nowadays normal and rational have lost all their meaning, so why bother?

Stranger than Fiction

I haven't posted anything in a long time. Can't really say why... too busy, too sick, too much introspection that needed and still needs to stay out of the public sphere. However I couldn't stay quiet about this. To begin with, this semester started within the limits of the surreal. But I'm not talking about the lights of the Eiffel Tower or the excessive French nationalism that has shadowed my steps these past months. What I want to talk about is an e-mail that I got this weekend from the Concordia Student Union concerning Bill 78 that the Quebec government wants to pass in order to stop student protests against the tuition fee hike. I am not going to post the entire thing, but this excerpt strangely reminded me of 1984:

We are communicating with you about this proposed legislation now because we are concerned that following its anticipated adoption, the CSU and other student associations may be unable to issue public criticism about its contents without risking extraordinary sanctions or risking our ability to continue serving students through regular operations.

One of the functions of this law is that it puts a legal onus on student associations like the CSU to attempt to enforce the law’s contents on its student members.

As a result of some of the implications of this proposed legislation, we feel it is our responsibility to explain that you that you may receive some communication from the CSU not as a result of the political will of the membership or its representatives, but because it will be forced to comply with a law that is neither just nor justifiable. Therefore, in the coming months we ask you to please think critically about the nature of the communication you receive from us and other associations.

Between this bill and the increasing possibility of an Eurozone break-up, it's getting harder and harder to distinguish between reality and fiction. J. K. Rowling, if Voldemort is for real and still trying to take over the world, this is as good a time as any to tell us that we're witches and wizards and that we at least have magic to fight him!

La vie, la mort et d'autres questions philosophiques

Unele filme devin clasice. Devin o parte din societate, din cultura. Si numai timpul le da aceasta onoare. De ce? Pentru ca sunt universale? Pentru ca expun un adevar intemporal? Pentru ca ating acel nerv locomotor al universului? Nu, mai degraba, al inimii omenesti.

Pentru ca expun sangele care curge prin venele noastre sub forma lui cea mai pura si anume dorinta. Dorinta de a trai, dorinta de a crede, dorinta de a iubi. Dorinta si speranta. Oamenii tind spre acel sentiment atat de straniu care este speranta cu o disperare cumplita. Pentru ca, daca avem nevoie de viata, de Dumnezeu si de iubire, avem si mai mare nevoie de speranta care umple vidul lasat de dorintele noastre neimplinite. Marx spunea ca religia e opiumul popoarelor. A gresit. E speranta.

Speranta impaca mintea si inima prin singura arma pe care o are: tulburarea ratiunii. Si asa, intr-o pace aparenta, inima invinge, iar mintea abdica. Iar omul se imbata de speranta ignorand realitatea din jurul lui. Pentru ca realitatea e cruda si inumana. Pentru ca ea nu spune niciodata da. Nu spune nici nu. Isi pastreaza tacerea de fier si nepasatoare. Realitatea nu raspunde pentru ca nu are raspunsuri si nici seama de dat. Pentru ea, viata si moartea nu sunt decat niste fapte diverse continand la fel de multa importanta ca si vantul care susura printre frunze. Dar intre timp, inima continua sa spere in fata regatului care se destrama.

Nu ca ar schimba ceva daca noi speram sau nu. Tot ce schimba este felul in care traim. Lucizi sau orbi. In realitate sau in vis. Dar si oamenii lucizi au speranta lor si anume curajul.

Curajul nu este un sentiment. Este mintea care se impune asupra inimii. Deoarece inima tinde spre frica, o frica pe care ratiunea nu o poate intelege. Deci, curajul nu poate exista fara frica. Razboinicii care nu mai simt frica nu pot fi numiti curajosi. Curajul presupune o lupta interioara si o forta de spirit care invinge asupra instinctului de supravietuire sau din contra asupra instinctului de a se lasa infrans de obstacole. In ambele cazuri, frica este elementul care declanseaza curajului, iar ratiunea creatorul lui deoarece curajul presupune o alegere lucida care este absenta in actele care il prefac.

Aici ma gandesc la soldatii care merg la razboi fara sa fie constienti de toate consecintele deciziei lor. Sau la oamenii care isi centreaza viata in jurul iubirii sau a carierei sau a banilor fara sa se gandeasca la celelalte aspecte. Sau la idealistii care sunt gata sa moara pentru o cauza. Toate aceste alegeri sunt valide. Atata vreme cat ele purced dintr-un rationament lucid care a decis ca pentru nenea Georgel viata intr-o lume unde homosexualii nu au drept sa se casatoreasca nu merita sa fie traita si ca orice consecinta a activismului lui este preferabila acelei vieti. De aceea, sentimentul de curaj care de multe ori este indus de muzica grandilocventa, de fraze filozofice sau de presiunea sociala, nu este decat un impuls al inimii innecat in adrenalina.

El nu are nimic de a face cu adevaratul curaj care este mult prea des tradus in mod paradoxal prin fraza "nu am de ales". Nu am de ales pentru ca natura mea imi interzice fericirea in orice alt scenario decat acesta. Intr-un fel, existenta curajului presupune o cunoastere a propriei persoane si a lumii din jur, fie fizica sau sociala, care ne constrange in actiunile noastre. A fii curajos se traduce prin luarea unor decizi coerente cu natura noastra si acceptarea tuturor consecintelor care decurg. Curajul adapteaza speranta la realitate.

Cu toate astea, curajul pur este foarte rar. Pentru ca oamenii nu traiesc din ratiune, ci din sentimente. Poate ca e in natura umana sa tinda spre speranta deoarece luciditatea si curajul reprezinta un regim de armata pentru suflet. De asemenea, un om lucid si rational pare intr-un fel... inuman. Strainul lui Camus ne lasa cu un sentiment de absurditate si de neintelegere tocmai din cauza lipsei de emotii a personajului principal. Poate ca umanitatea se traduce prin sentimente iar ratiunea e doar un accesoriu care ne permite sa supravietuim. Un mecanism de adaptare la mediul inconjurator. Cameleonul isi schimba culoarea pielii, iar noi ne amelioram cunostintele sau aptitudinile in functie de nevoie. Iar in cazuri extreme, schimbam nevoia in functie de limitele noastre.

Privacy... NOT!

Mircea Badea... e Mircea Badea! Cum mai ziceam, papagal, dar always funny hahaha!!



Lolll shaworma cu de toate!! Shaworma with all hahahaha!

Somewhat on the same topic, here's a column by Benoit Lefebvre (I simply love this guy!) that he calls Internet, le buffet all you can take but which I like to call Occupy the kitchen! haha.



Ça brasse sur l’internet. J’ai commencé à écrire ma chronique, la SOPA était en action. En plein milieu de l’écriture, oops, pu de SOPA pour tout de suite. Ça arrive. Comme l’autre fois : j’ai commencé à écrire, il neigeait pas. Puis un moment donné, oops, il neigeait. C’tu fou pareil. Heille, l’action dans ma vie toé.

La SOPA, Stop Online Piracy Act, c’est, comme ça le dit, une loi pour censurer les sites qui utilisent des images, des films, de la musique non libres de droits. Ça, c’est la grande ligne. Mais y a plus profond et complexe. C’est une chronique d’humour, pas d’informatique. Tapez SOPA sur Google, puis laissez-moi dire des niaiseries. Au fait, Google, Facebook et Wikipédia, pour ne nommer que ceux-là, sont contre cette loi.

Faut comprendre la rage. Une fois que tu goûtes assez longtemps au gratuit, peu importe le service, avantage que tu croyais acquis, dur, très dur, de reculer. Peu importe l’âge. Ici, on parle plus des 15-25 ans qui chialent. Mais essaie voir d’enlever à Denis, 49 ans, son brake de 15 minutes. Ou à Nicole, 54 ans, sa machine à café dans la cuisine.

«QUOI!!! Comment ça, pu de café? Non, mais ça a-tu du bon sens!» Occupy the kitchen! Des pancartes FREE THE COFFEE! Nicole qui se fait poivrer les yeux. Denis arrache son t-shirt Che, se protège les yeux avec et frappe le gardien à coups de brocheuse.

Qu’est-ce tu veux. On est comme ça. On aime pas ça reculer. Je l’ai déjà dit. À mon humble avis, un adulte, c’est un enfant qui a le droit d’acheter des cigarettes. On est conditionnables. De notre naissance à notre mort. Viens pas enlever nos conditions, on devient mauvais. La machine à café dans cuisine, touche pas à ça. L’internet libre, touche pas à ça. C’est aussi simple que ça.

Les humains, on est comme des vampires en stand-by. Tant qu’on ne goûte pas au sang, nos canines restent rondes. Si une goutte de sang tombe sur notre langue, même par accident, c’est fini. On en voudra plus, et toujours plus. Et bonne chance pour nous faire revenir en arrière. Il y a toute une génération qui a goûté au sang de l’internet gratuit et libre. Tu ne peux pas leur enlever ça en pensant qu’ils ne vont pas mordre un peu.

Tsé dans la vie là.... il faut quand même être intelligent

Bon alors grand événement aujourd'hui! Je suis allée m'acheter un cellulaire (ou portable comme on dit en français)! Oui j'ai craqué... et c'est quand même drôle parce qu'à partir du moment où je l'ai eu dans mes mains, tout léger et lisse... on dirait qu'il y avait un poids qui s'est levé de mes épaules! En plus il est tout mignon avec un clavier et tout!! Oui oui je sais.... on est tous une bande de drogués et d'accros... Enfin, cette réalisation était un peu secondaire à côté du fait qu'avant de l'avoir dans les mains, j'ai dû galérer en esti!

Bon en commençant par le début... On était chez Carrefour avec Nanou (pas le centre commercial de Laval, mais la version française de Wallmart). Et après avoir fait les folles dans le magasin pendant une heure ou deux, on décide (par "on" je voulais dire "je") que la file était plus petite dans la caisse libre service. Et puis après tout, il faut être autonome dans la vie, non? Bon après une dizaines de minutes où j'essayais de découvrir s'il fallait sélectionner Carte Bleue (aka carte débit) ou Visa sur l'écran (parce que la différence entre les deux est relativement floue... dans le sens que c'est écrit Visa sur ma carte débit... enfin!), on sort finalement du magasin avec tous nos achats. Une fois à la maison, youpi allons voir comment fonctionne mon nouveau téléphone! Incearca drace daca poti comme on dit en bon roumain... dans le sens que c'était plus facile à dire qu'à faire. Vous savez, quand on achète des trucs, ils viennent dans des boîtes qui la plupart du temps sont en plastique. Bon je trouvais bien que le plastique de ma boîte était de très bonne qualité (un peu trop bonne pour quelque chose qu'on va jeter de toute façon). Alors une fois venu le moment de la vérité... comment on fait pour ouvrir la foutue boîte de plastique? Le plastique était TRÈS épais, donc utiliser des ciseaux ou des couteaux était hors de question et on voyait bien que la boîte était faite pour s'ouvrir... mais comment? Je tire de tous les coins, je pousse, je réfléchis... rien à faire. Alors, solution à toutes les problèmes, je vais voir Jean-Pierre (le mari de Nanou). Il me regarde. Il me demande: "C'est le portable que tu t'es payé? Et ils t'ont pas enlevé la boîte de sécurité au magasin?" C'est dans des moments comme cela qu'on se demande si on doit rire ou pleurer. Je me disais bien qu'ils faisaient pas du plastique si épais juste pour un emballage... Enfin, Jean-Pierre a réussi à casser la boîte et à récupérer mon précieux téléphone :D.

Et je pensais que mes aventures finissaient là. On dirait bien que non. Ce soir, il y avait une pièce de théâtre qui jouait proche de la maison et qui était inspirée des oeuvres d'Umberto Eco et moi j'étais décidée d'y trainer Nanou. Bon on était pas sures de pouvoir y aller parce qu'on n'avait pas réservé des places à l'avance alors on avait un peu peur que ce soit complet. On arrive à la salle. Le stationnement était un peu vide. Bon, on était aussi 30 minutes à l'avance. On arrive à l'entrée. Encore vide, sauf pour deux dames. Elles se lèvent en nous voyant et elles viennent nous accueillir à la porte (mon dieu, qu'elles sont chaleureuses dis donc!). "On est désolées, mais le spectacle est annulé à cause d'une histoire de droits d'auteur. On a été contactés il y a 2 jours par la maison d'édition d'Umberto Eco et on a été informé qu'on n'avait pas le droit de jouer la pièce et qu'on devait payer des frais de droit d'auteur si on voulait aller de l'avant avec le projet." Mouin. J'imagine que ça leur est jamais venu à l'esprit de contacter l'auteur pour voir s'ils pouvaient faire une pièce de théâtre sur ses livres... Vous savez, JK Rowling n'a jamais reçu d'argent pour les films que Hollywood a fait sur Harry Potter... Gahh!

Bref, tout ça pour dire que dans la vie, des fois, il faut être intelligent!

The sound of music

Bon alors ce soir j'ai fait l'impensable... je suis allée voir un concert de jazz! En 8 ans de festivals de jazz à Montréal, j'ai jamais assisté à un seul concert, mais après un mois en France je me plie à la pression sociale. Bon le mot est un peu fort peut-être (plus du genre, Nanou voulait y aller et moi j'ai dit oui), mais le fait reste que j'ai assisté à un concert de jazz.

Alors, les impréssions? Bon alors je vais commencer avec le plus frappant... le maître d'orchestre qui portait des pantalons noirs comme il se doit, avait un FIL BLANC qui pendait sur sa jambe!! Mais le fil, il venait bien de quelque part! Alors si on regardait plus attentivement (parce que bien sûr, on n'avait rien d'autre à faire), étant donné que le maître d'orchestre, il tourne souvent le dos au public, donc disais-je, en regardant plus attentivement, on voyait qu'entre ses deux fesses, il y avait une partie cousue avec du fil blanc (non mais je rêve?? du fil blanc pour des pantalons noirs? sur les fesses??!!). Et le top du top c'était qu'à un certain moment... il chante... en anglais! Pffuahahaha!! C'est mignon des Français qui chantent en anglais. Ils gardent leur accent haha! Bref, je suis mechante, mais je dois avouer que je me suis bien marrée pendant ce moment de la soirée.

Sinon c'était très bien. Bon, il y avait des chansons sur lesquelles j'avais un peu envie de dormir (surtout quand ils jouaient des blues...), mais il y avait une chanson de Santana... ahlala!! Le solo de guitarre! Domage que le guitariste avait une moustache et était un peu trop vieux pour moi, parce que sinon... De toute façon, j'ai toujours trouvé qu'il y avait quelque chose d'incroyablement sexy à propos d'un mec qui joue de la guitarre. Bon ça depend aussi qu'est-ce qu'il joue, mais là on rentre dans trop de détails.

La dernière chose que j'ai à dire c'est que Nanou m'a bien fait rire au début de la soirée. Elle se tourne vers moi et elle me dit: "On dirait que t'as fait une touche". Et à moi de répondre: "Une touche de quoi?". Bon une fois qu'elle a bien ri de ma gueule, elle me dit que c'est une expréssion pour dire que j'ai fait de l'effet et que le petit jeune (bah il devait quand mm avoir 19 ans... enfin, je pense...) arrêtait pas de me regarder. Hahaha!!! Bon il n'était pas trop mon genre le gars, mais c'était quand même mignon. Par contre, il n'est même pas venu me parler à la fin du concert le connard! Il y avait bien une partie où les musiciens se melaient au public pour prendre un verre (de jus!), mais il est partie en flèche! Bref, tant pis pour lui!

Bref, tout ça pour dire que c'était sympa. ET en sortant avec trois dames de plus de 70 ans, je suis quand même rentrée presqu'à minuit! Quand on pense qu'il y a 2 ans, mes parents auraient flippé si je rentrais à cette heure là... Ah que la vie est ironique...

*Oui je fais exprès d'utiliser tous ces mots français*

C'est ça qui arrive quand on parle trop tôt

Bon hier je parlais avec mes parents et je leur disais qu'une chance qu'il n'a pas encore neigé. J'apprendrai jamais à fermer ma trappe... Alors voilà, je me reveille ce matin, je tire les volets avec le cerveau encore à moitié endormi et que vois-je?

Je vais être honête, pendant quelques secondes je croyais vraiment que je voyais pas bien.

Non, mais sans blague, c'est super joli! La neige est très belle quand elle vient de tomber (donc elle n'est pas encore toute brune, fondue et/ou gelée et généralement degeu) et quand t'as pas besoin de faire de l'effort physique simplement pour marcher dedans.

Ça me fait quand mm rire parce que ce soir ils ont passé exactement 20 minutes (j'exagère même pas) aux nouvelles à parler de la neige qui est tombée et de la période du soi-disant grand froid. Bon je réalise bien que l'hystérie générale ne concerne pas tant que ça la quantité de neige qui est tombée ou la temperature en tant que tel. C'est plus l'impact que ça a sur la vie des Français. C'est à dire qu'ils sont pas équipés pour survivre avec de la neige ou des temperatures negatives. Donc ils capotent et le moindre flocon les paralyse... Bref, moi je ris, mais je sens que demain matin je vais pleurer. À suivre...

Le mois des crêpes

Jeudi 2 février c'était une fête qui sera à partir de maintenant à tout jamais marquée dans mon calendrier! Le Chandeleur! WTF? Une fête Chrétienne? Je vois déjà vos visages incrédules. Eh bien mes chers amis, comme les enfants attendent Noel avec impatience non pas pour la naissance du Christ, mais pour les cadeaux, moi j'attendrai le Chandeleur non pas pour sa significance réligieuse (que je ne connais pas d'ailleurs), mais pour les crêpes! La tradition française dit que pour le Chandeleur on doit manger des crêpes! Eh bien, moi je suis toute pour la conservation des traditions haha!

Je n'ai pas encore assez de données pour en faire une théorie, mais la tendance jusqu'à maintenant poite vers une bouffe spécifique pour chaque mois. Le mois de janvier c'était la galette des rois qui est une tarte faite en feuilleté avec une pâte d'amandes et qu'on mangeait pour célébrer la fête des Rois Mages (le 2e dimanche après Noel) avec tout le tralala de la couronne et de la fameuse fève. Février c'est les crêpes. J'ai hâte de voir qu'est-ce qu'il y aura en mars hahaha!

*Yeah I have a rat face in the picture, but do admire my awesome skills!*

Isolation... diagrams

On est dans une période qu'on appelle de grand froid. Moi je comprends pas trop. À -10 degrées, oui il fait froid, mais pas au point d'en faire tout un plat... depuis une semaine on ne parle que de ça!

Mais finalement, c'est pas vraiment ça qui me trouble le plus. Ce qui me trouble c'est toute la constitution socio-thermique derrière ça. Tu mets le chauffage à 22 degrées, mais il n'est pas capable de se rendre plus loin que 19. Le matin tu te reveilles et tu vas dans la cuisine pour te laver les mains et... que dale! Le robinet est gelé (et pas dans le sens plaisant). Et ne pensez pas que c'est moi qui vit dans un trou et que je suis une exception! Mes collègues au travail se plaignaient de la même chose. Même que ma chef est allée aussi loin que le fait de dormir dans le même lit que ses enfants pour essayer de se rechauffer un peu! Et elle n'est pas paumée la fille. Elle est bien capable de se payer un système de chauffage comme du monde. À moins d'habiter dans un 30 metres carées, tu te retrouves obligé de dormir avec 5 couvertures la nuit.

Alors voilà ma théorie: l'isolation dans les maisons c'est du bidon. Les Français étant habitués à des temperatures moyennes de 0 degrées Celcius, n'ont pas encore perfectioné les hautes techniques isolationnistes. Oui c'est très beau les grandes fênetres et les velux (fênetres sur le toit), mais si on veut garder la chaleur à l'intérieur c'est pas top comme diraient les Français. Et on dirait que le thermopan ne s'est pas encore rendu jusqu'à ici. On l'a en Amérique, on l'a en Roumanie, mais, dans sa migration, il a sauté la France. Et bon, le fait que les maisons soient faites en briques n'aide pas les choses. Ah maison en bois! C'est seulement lorsque tu es loin que je t'apprécie vraiment!

Ceci étant dit, j'ai bien la poisse depuis que je suis ici. J'ai eu des controleurs dans les bus et dans les stations de train à peu près une fois par semaine (pendant que mon amie Cassandre les a vus environ 3 fois en 2 ans). ET je me retrouve avec toutes les extremes de temperature. Autant que j'ai apprécié les 10 degrés qu'on a eu pendant ma première semaine ici, autant je trouve desagréable l'expérience des -10 degrés. Et pour me consoler, on arrête pas de me dire "mais tu sais, c'est pas normal d'avoir des temperatures comme ça ici". Oui merci, je m'en rappelerai la prochaine fois que je verrai le signe "À cause de la période de grand froid, les toilettes sont temporairement fermées" dans les stations de train.

Vous avez remarqué que j'apprends le français? :D Pas le québécois, mais le français! Je pense qu'à la fin de mes 6 mois je ferai une section dictionnaire québécois français hahaha!

Que je t'aime, que je t'aime... transport en commun

Un truc que j'ai toujours voulu essayer c'est le théatre. Non, je m'exprime mal. Plutôt, ça m'a toujours fait une peur bleue (surtout l'impro). Alors, la peur de l'impro n'étant pas rationelle, naturellement, depuis quelques années je me dis toujours que je devrais l'essayer. Donc je l'ai fait. Au boulot, ils font des sessions d'impro avec un prof et tout. Et c'est super! Surtout les exercices avec un masque (parce que ça cache le visage hahaha!).

Mais c'est pas vraiment mon sujet principal ça... c'était juste l'intro (hahaha impro - intro... bon on s'amuse comme on peut). Donc voilà, je suis allée à mon cours d'impro qui est après le travail et qui finit à 20h. Alors je prenais mon temps pour admirer le paysage de La Défense le soir (il faut vraiment que je commence à prendre des photos!) et bon, d'une chose à une autre, j'ai manqué mon train à 20h30. Je me stressais pas tant que ça parce que je savais que des trains il y en a à toutes les 15 minutes... eh bien non! Pas après 20h30. Parce qu'après 20h30, les trains ils passent à toutes les... heures...

Bon si seulement moi j'avais compris ça. En fait, les stations de train sont toujours en construction ici et lorsque je vois un panneau d'alerte sur l'état du transport et que je lis que ma ligne de train est annulée du 30 janvier au 27 février, je commence un tout petit peu à paniquer. Oui il y avait du blabla sur des bus de remplacement à 22h, mais ça n'allait pas du tout parce que moi j'avais un autre bus à prendre de ma station de destination jusqu'à la maison et ledit bus ne circulait plus après 22h30 et moi j'étais à plus de 30 minutes de train de la station de bus. Alors je prends une autre ligne de train qui m'amène à une station intermédiaire sur ma ligne d'où j'éspérais pouvoir prendre un bus pour rentrer... Oh naiveté de la jeunesse! Rien! Rien de rien! Je demande à une dame qui attendait à la station d'autobus et elle me regarde avec des grands yeux tout en me disant que j'étais très très loin de ma destination et qu'elle doutait fortement qu'il y ait des autobus. Je retourne à la station de train avec la defaite qui pesait sur mes épaules. Puis en lisant et en relisant le foutu panneau sur l'état du transport je vois finalement que ça concernait seulement les trains circulant après 22h... et qu'il y avait bel et bien un train qui passait vers 21h40.

Hahaha que je peux être conne des fois! En tout cas, je ne me souviens pas de la dernière fois que j'ai été aussi soulagée pour quelque chose (peut-être quand j'ai reçu mes papiers du consulat pour la France). Bref, j'ai eu 50 minutes d'attente, mais on the bright side, c'était 50 minutes à admirer la tour Eiffel illuminée contre le ciel nocturne.

French diaries

Alright, I've been away for 3 weeks mostly because I was writing so many emails that I felt I had nothing more to say/I was too drained to write anymore. But now I realized one thing... I am writing too many freaking emails every week. Sooo, in an effort to optimize my time (aka use my time well as Al Hayek would say) I am going to make a diary of ze French experience that will replace my constant email writing sessions.

Hahaha I kind of feel like I'm restarting this blog. I remember my first intro post and it does feel like now. Explaining... always explaining. Oh well, here it is! A documented trail of my experience of the city of lights (and its suburbs hahaha cause like home, I'm more in the suburbs than in the city).

Taking off

Here it is. Last hours. I'm going to keep this brief, for one thing because I don't have much time and also because I feel that this could turn overly dramatic. So:

Pack suitcase: check
Fill out all the stupid forms: more or less check
Send last emails: check

I don't know what much to say... It's going to be an amazing experience even though right now it feels somewhat scary. But fear is a normal part of the process. Fear always accompanies change. But change is good. And like they said in this one movie: the things you are most scared of are the ones that are most worthwhile.