Dans un autre ordre d'idée, j'ai la confirmation de plein de contrats pour la prochaine année scolaire, ce qui veut dire que je vais pouvoir travailler strictement comme auxiliaire d'enseignement et sur des projets de recherche, ce qui fait que j'aurai pas à me retrouver une autre job qui me démoralise pour payer mes comptes à l'automne. Faut croire que ma carrière académique va se concrétiser avant celle de rockstar... N'empêche, je pense que je me suis jamais autant consacré à la musique que ces derniers temps, ce qui rend le tout assez ironique. Il y a tellement de choses que je voudrais accomplir, je me demande si j'aurai assez d'une vie...

I am the greatest man that ever lived
I was born to give and give and give.

Mais non, je ne suis pas prétentieux, c'est une pièce du nouvel (et très bon) album de Weezer, The greatest man that ever lived (Variations on a shaker hymn). Je la trouve particulièrement inspirante. Quand on a le sentiment qu'on arrive enfin à faire ce que l'on voulait et qu'on aime ce que l'on devient, c'est agréable. Je me suis assez fait dire dans ma vie que je serais pas capable d'aller plus loin que ça me fait plaisir de regarder en arrière avec un petit sourire et de continuer vers le sommet, vers mes rêves.

i know its been a long time…

i got tired of blogging because i was rejected by many monetary sites because my blogsite is being sponsored by wordpress…

that’s why i now have a new site…mychickas.com…

enjoy…

and as my good friend macappleboy say…spread the love…

ciao

kaikai

Jag såg dem live redan när jag var omyndig. Brorsan bjöd på pizzarestaurang. Min svägerska köpte en bärs till mig och sa att jag fick smyga med den. Hallå där, röt vakten. Hon blev livrädd och skulle förklara bort langningen, men det var H som bodde i vår svale som stod dörr. Allmänt garv och en slokörad halländska.

Sen har jag sett bandet otaliga gånger, bland annat på Hwitan i Falkenberg. En på alla sätt absurd utflykt. Hwitan var ett ställe där de helt sonika drog ur sladden till lamporna på uteserveringen när de ville stänga. Va? Säga till gästerna? Nej, vi drar ur pluggen och bommar igen bara...

Annedalskyrkan var den mest Eldkvarniga av gigen. Det var sista kvällen med 24. Det var en konsert om kärlekens törst. Vi höll på att gå sönder då och led båda två i kyrkbänken. Det är så vackert, sa hon. Sen sov vi, kramades hejdå vid tåget dagen därpå och sågs aldrig mer.

En vecka senare bröt vi på en ledsen telefonlinje och jag åkte som i en dimma till Helsingborg och satt och tittade ut över vattnet bredvid ett gäng pårökta blåvittfans. Det var en jävla skitdag, helt enkelt.

Nånting måste gå sönder, för att himlen ska va' blå..

Det var min signaturmelodi ett tag. Sen orkade jag inte vara patetisk och gick vidare, men Eldkvarn följde med och just den låten var en de bästa låtarna igår, men idag betyder den något helt annat än då.

Eldkvarn är nog det viktigaste bandet i mitt liv. Det kan låta rätt märkligt, men givet den här bloggens natur så kanske det inte gör det. Hur som helst, Eldkvarn är alltid en av spelarna när mitt liv förändras, på ett eller annat sätt.

Så också nu, men mer om det en annan dag...

Maintenant ici on voit la Piscine un peu, et regardez sur les autre, on la voit pu, et c'est en une nuit que ça tomber de même

Bye et bon courage :lol: 

So I just changed my network (in Facebook) from Richmond to Houston.  A new era - and an ending of a really great time in my life.  The 5 years we were in Richmond were awesome!  But change is good and this weekend is really packed for us - hopefully the first of many action filled weekends!

Last night I made a Tuna pasta dish.  It was really good!  Kinda surprising, since tuna dishes always remind me of something a '50s housewife would make when they ran out of grocery money.  Anyway, the recipe called for peas and 2% milk.  Since I hate peas, I subbed edaname and since we don't drink 2% milk, I used skim.

It also called for a chili garlic sauce that I could not find at Whole Foods (and the recipe was not very specific), so I just used chopped garlic and red pepper flakes - YUM!   Recently I have been really into using red pepper flakes - it adds just a bit of heat and interest.

I have been super tired lately.  Suspect it is due to getting up at 5am - so today I skipped Seals and slept in until 7am.  It was lovely.  I am such a wimp these days - back in RIC, I would get up everyday at 5am and never really think about skipping Seals.  I need to go to yoga tonight (would normally go today at 930, but can't with the workers) and Boom and I also need to hit some balls, as our tennis lesson is tomorrow.  Too many things!

Local police say the three men, all from the Mijikenda tribe indigenous to the Coast, were inciting youth in Kwale District to raid police stations. This brings back memories of the Likoni clashes of August 1997, where a police station was raided, at least five officers killed, prisoners freed and weapons looted. The raid on the Likoni Police Station sparked off an orgy of ethnic killings targetting mostly people from the interior of Kenya, or upcountry people.

It is because of those memories that Kenya's Police are anxious to act now. Once again though, the hand of politics is making itself felt through former Kisauni legislator Anania Mwaboza, who has come out to represent the three men. Mwaboza, who is from the same ethnic group as his clients, has challenged the police to either present tangible evidence or release the men without charge.

The Republican Council of Mombasa first made the news last year, when dozens of youth from the Mijikenda tribe were found receiving military training in forests just south of the coastal city of Mombasa. Though the group later fizzled into obscurity, its re-emergence this year goes to show that there still exists certain factors that give such groups ample recruits. That factor has been dubbed, Coast nationalism.

Since Kenya's independence, the people inhabiting Kenya's Indian Ocean coast have felt left out in the country's political and economic decisions. Renowned writer, V. Shiva Naipaul visited Kenya just before the death of Mzee Jomo Kenyatta. In his book, "North of South," Naipaul narrates a visit to the coast, where he felt as though the area, which has a history stretching 1,000 years was under occupation by upcountry people.

The Justice Akiwumi Report on the Likoni clashes provides a comprehensive account of the history of Coast nationalism. Here, the Nairobi Chronicle presents excerpts:

"Even though the Likoni and Kwale area is multi-cultural, it can be described as dichotomous in terms of the regional and religious background of its inhabitants. The inhabitants are split between the predominantly Muslim coastal majority and the predominantly Christian upcountry minority. Because of low education levels, the Muslim coastal majority constitute most of the unemployed at the coast, whilst the Christian upcountry minority form the more economically developed inhabitants. In turn, the upcountry people prefer to employ their own people rather than the coastal people. Mijikenda youth were on the whole, unemployed, idle and hungry. This constituted a fertile ground which was waiting to be exploited to wreck vengeance upon the perceived oppressors from upcountry."

The Justice Akiwumi Report mentioned prominent persons at the Coast who used Coast nationalism to their advantage. In 1997, there was a General Election and KANU capitalized on Coast nationalism to popularize itself through the likes of the late Shariff Nassir and late Karisa Maitha.

Before 1997, Karisa Maitha made a name for himself by presenting the radical face of Coast nationalism. When former President Daniel arap Moi was fighting the Islamic Party of Kenya of Sheikh Balala, it was Karisa Maitha's United Muslim Association (UMA) that mobilized Mijikenda youth to support Moi using violence. Going back to the 1970s, Karisa Maitha got into national politics through former Attorney General Charles Njonjo, who thought he could use Maitha's influence among Mijikenda youths in his national power schemes.

In the 1990s, calls for federalism - or Majimbo - gained popularity at the coast. It was felt that an autonomous Coast province would provide jobs, business opportunities and development funds for indigenous people and at the local level. During campaigns for the 2007 General Election, the Orange Democratic Party Kenya (ODM-K) of Kalonzo Musyoka, Raila Odinga, Najib Balala, Musalia Mudavadi and William Ruto promised to enact a Majimbo constitution once in office. The announcement of Majimbo was the biggest reason why the Orange side gained massive popularity at the coast.

Well, we all remember that Raila Odinga and Kalonzo Musyoka eventually parted ways.

When it became clear that Majimbo was increasing inter-ethnic tensions in Kenya, Kalonzo, who is now Vice President, changed his mantra to "economic federalism." Raila, who was running on the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), promised that he would implement the original version of Majimbo. Raila won majority votes at the coast mostly because of Majimbo. Today, Raila is Kenya's Prime Minister and he will have to negotiate with President Mwai Kibaki's PNU which is completely opposed to any form of federalism in Kenya. Nevertheless, President Mwai Kibaki was not averse to using Coast nationalism for his political survival during the 2007 campaigns.

After the 1997 Likoni clashes, there arose the Shirikisho Party, founded by radicals in Coast nationalism. During the 2002 elections, Shirikisho had candidates in all constituencies of Coast Province, from Lamu to Taveta and from Tana River to Kwale. However, the party did not fare well and only managed to win the Likoni constituency seat through Mr Rashid Shakombo, whose name featured prominently during investigations into the 1997 Likoni clashes.

In 2002, with the ODM making a rallying call for Majimbo, the Shirikisho Party appeared to Kibaki strategists as likely to achieve wide popularity. Kibaki's pointmen at the coast, such as Chirau Ali Mwakwere of Kwale and Morris Dzoro quickly jumped ship to Shirikisho. In party elections, Mwakwere was declared the party leader then promptly entered into an alliance with President Kibaki. Coast people were outraged by the move and abandoned Shirikisho in droves. By December 2007, Shirikisho was nothing more than an empty shell that could not win a single seat in the entire province. As far as coast people are concerned, Shirikisho became synonymous with traitors to the common cause with Mwakwere as the agent of the oppressors.

Mwakwere himself got re-elected on the PNU ticket. Not only was he anointed as a Mijikenda elder/spokesman, but Mwakwere used combative slogans in his campaigns. He would sing about sharks attacking enemies, leaving little doubt on the true meaning of his message. Of course, while in Nairobi, he professed full support for the concept of national unity.

From these trends, it is clear that Coast nationalism has been hijacked by Kenya's national leadership to achieve political ends that, unfortunately, have not done much to address the plight of coastal peoples. Well, perhaps the people of the coast province are misguided for blaming outsiders for their problems but it does not discount the fact that the poorest people in Kenya are to be found here. Isn't the poorest constituency in Kenya in Coast province?

In spite of hundreds of people killed across the past twenty years and massive destruction of property, the lot of the coastals is yet to change. Poverty is endemic, illiteracy is growing while young people succumb to early marriages and beach prostitution. Belief in witchcraft can be cited as a major culprit in the poverty of the coastal region. Suspicion of other Kenyan tribes as well as inward-looking attitudes make coast people afraid to venture into the interior of Kenya. For instance, it is easy to find a Kikuyu waiter in Lamu, or a Kisii matatu driver in Mombasa, or a Kamba tour guide in Ukunda. But what are the odds of finding a Giriama fisherman in Kisumu? What are the chances of encountering a Pokomo shopkeeper in Kitale? Absolutely nil! Zero!

Coast people can be just as hardworking as any body else but they need - we need - to realize that politicians are empty vessels full of noise that cannot feed the stomach. Its good to be proud of your heritage and therefore there's nothing wrong with Coast nationalism. But cultural pride should not be used to hurt other Kenyans who are here because they are looking for a living. If they can come here, you are free to go from wherever they came from.

Perhaps the best gift that politicians can give Coast people is to turn Coast nationalism into an impetus for positive action that will result in the prosperity of all: Arab, Mijikenda, European and upcountry people.

******
Written by Stanley M. Mjomba, Coast affairs correspondent for the Nairobi Chronicle.

Enfin, pour une fois, je suis tombe su ron bon medecin, qui me reeduque aux bonnes pratiques alimentaires, tout en tenant compte de mes envies et plaisirs, tels le vin... Pas faim, mais je maigris...

Allez, encore 5-6...

Jag fick höra den i ett annat liv och den var som ett preludium till en ganska stygg smärta, men samtidigt blev den till ett väldigt bra plåster mot exakt samma smärta.

Jag är inte arg - för jag vet att det vänder

Den texten är också en bra sammanfattning av nuläget och de tankar som luftades i ett långt samtal med världens coolaste katt. Vi snuddade rätt rejält vid bitterhet och annat och jag erkänner att jag inte fixar den känslan längre. Förr behöll jag sådant, jag har slutat med det för det bagaget fastnar bara i min framtids säkerhetskontroll ändå - med andra ord, helt meningslöst att kånka runt på det.

Tröttnar jag på någon eller känner att vi två inte kan bli vänner igen - ja, då avskedar jag personen ur mitt liv. Annars blir det bara tjall på linjen senare. Känslokallt? Icke, tvärtom snarare. Jag väljer bara att välja lite annorlunda hur mitt hjärta används.

I dag vågar jag säga att alla relationer i vänkretsen är på rätt nivå. Det har tagit ett tag att nå dit, men det var värt det. Jag har - och det här kan bara jag förstå - bestämt mig för att aldrig mer ligga i lä. Eufori utan att lyfta från kontorsstolen, compadres.

Nuet byter planer med framtiden

Hatten av för Bob Hund. De verkar förstå mig, även om de sjunger på ett obegripligt språk.

Ecrire justement, dont j'avais envie, ecrire pour quoi et pour quoi, je ne sais pas, ecrire pour moi d'abord, histoire d'echapper a ce metro-boulot-dodo qui nous guette tous, histoire de se rever ecrivain d'abord, talentueux ensuite... Quitte a rever, je branche le reve full color, avec toutes les options...

De quoi vais-je parler?? De tout, de rien, du monde, et peut etre un peu de moi, si j'arrive a passer au dela d'une pudeur que je toruve moi-meme deplacee...

C'est tout pour le moment, mais a tres bientot...

PS : helas, 1000x helas, mes posts du Tour 2007 sont encore d'une triste actualite!

While watching Project Runway last night, I saw the promo for "Date My Ex" at least a half dozen times in 90 minutes.  So I was thinking - what would a show be like where people had to date my (or any of our) nutbag exes?  I think it'd go a little something like this...

Everyone's got crazy ex-girlfriends, right?  At least one or two fruit-loops hanging around in their dating history?  Everyone should - how else will you know what you're looking for without working through some blatant personality flaws to give you a baseline for crazy?  If you don't kiss a few psychos, you'll never be sure you've got The One when you meet her.

I can think of a handful of glaring examples of loopitude that would make for some good reality TV.  If only they'd really show this kind of stuff on Jo and Slade.  (Slade?  His name is Slade?  C'mon.)

Date My Nutbag Ex Challenge #1:  The Dog

All right, contestants, here's your setup.  See this particular ex?  What she's going to do is drag you around to a dozen different animal shelters, filling out applications for puppies all around the city.  Then you'll have to be her shoulder while she cries about being denied for every last one of them.  You'll have to explain to her that because neither of you are home for long enough, they can't approve you for a dog.

Then you'll have to bite your tongue when she comes home with a yipping little shit that requires 2 miles of walking a day, and won't be housebroken.  At least not by her.  Then, when the dog evacuates all over the inside of its crate on a Sunday morning (the night after two bottles of Boone's Farm) and won't stop barking, you'll have to try to sleep through her waking up and screaming "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP" as though the dog understands.

Bonus points if you last longer than 2 weeks.  Contestants will not be required to sign an actual lease.  I did.  I'm stupid.

Challenge #2:  The Drugs.

Contestants will be subjected to a parade of scuzzy humanity rolling through her house, dropping off and picking up whatever the girls wants or needs.  It's usually weed, but sometimes the Lotto comes up with mushrooms or ecstacy or something - your job will be to maintain her sobriety to a reasonable amount, or at least keep her out of a vehicle.

Then, we'll create a post-breakup scenario where she calls you and tells you that she's been doing a bunch of coke in order to deal with the end of the relationship.  Have fun!

Or:  She'll be the kind of girl that gets mad when you have two beers while watching TV because her dad was "a fucking useless drunk."  Then when you're gone for an afternoon she barrels into a half a bottle of vodka and is on the floor crying when you get back from Circuit City.  Enjoy the hair-holding while she tosses up the half-box of Boca burgers she scarfed down.

Bonus points:  Can you get her to pay for dope without using a check?  She's dumb enough to leave a paper trail but stubborn enough to tell you it's fine, she can do what she wants.  Succeed and you can drink yourself to sleep, again.  All these drugs lead directly into...

Challenge #3:  The Sexual History.

Here's what I'm picturing.  Let's assume that an episode of this particular show runs 30 minutes.  They don't really expect to drag out this drama over the course of an hour, do they?  What are we, Top Chef?  No.  30 minutes means 2 breaks of 4 minutes apiece.  22 minutes of actual content.  Of those 22 minutes, each person that makes up a notch on her proverbial headboard gets a full minute of time to introduce themselves.

So about 21 minutes later, after Jeff has described his 9 month "friends with benefits" setup wherein he ditched her because he started dating her best friend (who gave him crabs, which he gave to her because he gave it a couple weeks before he told her about the friend) and after Mike has relived - in vivid, bleeped out detail - the 15 minutes of sweaty fun they had underneath the pool table at his friend Brad's kegger party, contestants will have a minute to peruse her medical history for diseases.  Roll credits and tease for next week.  Oh, did I mention the two guys that came out simultaneously, high fived each other and left?  Make what you will of that.

Challenge #4:  Ditch 'em, in the hopes America will forget you completely.

For example, were you to break up with America the way one would break up with my exes, America would try to be "friends," get you to meet them at Dennys, then tell you all about the half-dozen guys she's letting share her girlybits.  Then discuss her psychiatric relapses.  Then ask if you want to go for a "ride" and "hang out somewhere else."  Then you tell America about your new girlfriend.  Then she goes batshit crazy, tosses her Moons Over My Hammy at you and storms out.

Either that, or America would call you 4 months after your nasty breakup, and shoot the shit like nothing had ever happened.  Then she'd try to casually talk about her "roomate" in her new one-bedroom apartment.  Then she'd try to get you to go out to lunch, and then when you tell America to forget you ever existed, she gets all bitchy and hangs up.

Next season:  Date My Friends' One-Night Stands!  The challenge:  see if you can remember their names when you wake up, and try not to show how repulsed you are by your decisions from the night before!  Only on Fox!

I morse stod han på Centralen och såg lite olycklig ut, men sken upp när jag passerade. Vi skakade hand och han såg lite skamsen ut.

- Jag har försovit mig, sa han.

- Det gör inget, sa jag. Du är ju uppe.

Älskade vän, du står upp. Du skrattar och är på väg till jobbet istället för åt helvete som du var förr. Du får härmed min välsignelse att försova dig hur mycket som helst, bara du fortsätter vara en av oss.

Bon, je l'ai réservé en boutique ce soir : je vais pas me prendre la tête avec ce truc de croisement de geek et de fashion victim ;-)

J'attends depuis novembre que mon abonnement en cours s'achève, je peux bien attendre un peu :-)

There have been days which I have spent dreaming about how much money can change my life, and also the lack of it, not just my life, how different all our lives would be if we had excess of Vitamin M. The above simple sentence has a real catch in there, because "excess" is a subjective word, and not many can easily define excess money.

Anyways coming back to the original topic, If one can define their mood based on the amount of money they had in their pocket, how wonderful it would be right?. I am not saying that money is not important, nor can we survive without it. I am materialistic to the core when it comes to living life. I just have a strong thought from last couple of days that money is bringing us a lot of troubles more than the happiness.

Anybody for stone age?
No not Sharon Stone...Well! On a second thought, she would be fine too :)

I also sauted some spinach with garlic and red pepper flakes (for a little heat!) and made some risotto (from a box) and surprisingly, to me at least, the risotto took the longest time to prepare.

So we had a really nice meal at home last night. Boom had called and offered to take me out to eat, but I had just paid 200 bones for groceries, so we really need to eat it all up!

I am realizing cooking is not that hard - as long as you choose easy recipes to make and do a little prep work in advance (ie having all the ingredients you need). And although I do enjoying dining out, eating in definitely has it's advantages: 1) you know what is going into the meal (sometimes eating out is way too greasy or fattening or heavy), 2) it is on your schedule (since dining out is usually a production, I feel like we do more with our time when we eat in), and 3) it is a good cost saving measure (I guess also not buying all of our groceries at Whole Foods could also be a cost saving measure, but I am not willing to go there yet).

Maybe one day I'll actually enjoy it - at least I don't loath cooking.

après quarante ans, j'assume qui je suis!

si ce n'est que quelques ridules, qui marquent le temps

** j'ai encore mon coeur de petite fille **

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

quelques prises habituelles en noir et blanc

la nature est toujours aussi généreuse!!

Ben, voici Godzilla la nouvelle petit térreur de chez moi,  un rapide le petit gars.

Le petit pere ce balade comme un grand.

Petit mais pas con ce bébé iguan, dès que l'on s'approche à moin d'un mètre il se barre comme flash.

"Mistertel est une société de services et de solutions informatiques et de télécommunication dont l'objectif principal est de contribuer à la révolution du paysage télécom en concevant pour tous des solutions complètes et modernes et des produits de qualités low.cost."

Ça m'fait plutôt rire. Concretement, grâce à moi, vous pouvez réduire considérablement le montant de vos factures téléphoniques grâce à mes solutions performantes et complètes conçues et développées par une équipe d'ingénieurs et de techniciens hautement qualifiés bénéficiant d'une plate forme Hi-tech de dernière génération :-D

I have not seen a single cow tipping thus far, but I'm still holding my breath.

A list of what I did see when driving from the airport to Simon's childhood home:
trucks
cows
horses
baby cows and horses
trucks
oil contraptions that appear to be a euphemism for oral sex, called "pump jacks"
silos
wind turbines
trucks
a Hooters
bales of hay
the American flag on trucks
and a tractor

So far it's surpassed my expectations in beauty, intellect, and digestibility. I've consumed blackened catfish, a Sno-Cone, fried okra, pinto beans, and a variety of fruits bought from farm-stands. But Norman, Oklahoma isn't just a bastion of traditional Americana, it's also where I dined at my first Thai-Italian restaurant. No, not fusion. Half of the menu was Thai food, and the other half was Italian. I ate veggie padthai, Simon had a pepperoni slice. I was kind of astounded by the diversity.

Simon's parents are hilarious, adorable, generous, and deeply in love. Even if my personal compendium of meet-the-parents scenarios didn't include a girl's father calling Mike Piazza of the Mets a "fag" as he shook my hand, a mother telling me point blank that I would never compare to her daughter's ex-girlfriend because she "just hasn't realized what she let go of," and a father walking in on his daughter performing cunnilingus on yours truly, I believe that this introduction, so far, has gone more smoothly than I could have imagined.

One of my favorite things about Simon, that he obviously has received from both his mother and his father, is his approachability, you can speak to the boy about anything. (Case in point, on our flight into Oklahoma City we sat next to a pastor. The topics of conversation included skateboarding, Malcom Gladwell , and the somewhat-predictable Jesus.) His parents are expert conversationalists and have made it very easy for me to let down my guard and be myself, which is saying a lot considering my generally suspicious nature and moronic, tight-assed upbringing where manners were emphasized over personality. Both of them work, and have a lot to share when it comes to the nature of the economy, how to shift business priorities as the parents of an adult, and the way they view the progress of Ministry of Imagery.

Simon's father made an observation that was haunting, and it rattled around in my brain like a set of keys thrown in a washing machine. The current trend in many fields is for work to be subcontracted. Companies are less inclined to hire an employee to work permanently on-site, or to throw money at insurance policies and other assorted costs of having a "team." Many companies no longer invest in a human element, because they're looking to cut costs that aren't simply reflected in dollars, but in energy and time as well. To hire someone to do a particular job, may it be a single assignment, a set of assignments, or an amount of work over the course of several months, is a lot less of a risk, there's less inclination for an employer to worry about the return of investment or employee inertia. When you devalue the human element in business, that's when the freelancer comes in. Which is why Simon and I have been able to start a business. Which is also why I'm perpetually worried about the where the next paycheck is coming from.

I mean, when was the last time you heard about a freelance writer asking for a raise?

The thing that concerns me about the sudden decline of office jobs, and the influx of freelancers on the market (both as writers, as well as in other sectors), is that there may be a glut in the market. Just as rabbits multiply, so do people wanting to work, unshowered, in pajamas. If there is a supposed "need" for freelance employees, suddenly the competition to get hired is less about skills or personality, more about lower rates and what you're willing to cut out of your lives.

For an all-too-common example: we have no health insurance. If something were to happen -- a skateboarding accident that breaks every knuckle in my right hand, if what I swear is Simon's narcolepsy is actually diagnosed -- we would be shit out of luck. The other day I had a kidney infection. I couldn't look for work because I found it impossible to get my feverish, achy, bloody piss-filled self out of bed. What if it had been something worse? No shit that America's health care crisis is tainting nearly every individual with prehensile thumbs who lives here. But isn't the problem only going to get worse before it gets better as the amount of contract employees increases? Is freelancing the new factory work? How does any freelance writer ever make enough to own a home, start a family, and have a savings account, let alone afford antibiotics? Moreover, do freelance writers all wear the same clothes from high school and refuse to have their musical taste progress beyond mid-nineties industrial bands, or is that just me?

Sometimes it seems as though the original approach I took might have been the more stable with regard to longevity. If you can get an office job you have steady income and you still have time to dedicate to your heart's passionate side project. You have both the paycheck coming in and the pursuit of your art on the side. If what you love is a hobby there's far less stress and pressure, and you know that you'll always be able to make ends meet so long as you clock into your "real job" on time. I just wonder for myself, and for Simon, if that would feel like selling ourselves short. After all, it's too late now, we're doing it, we're learning by flailing, it's terrifying, mortifying, and humbling, and we're loving every second of it, other than the bickering when we're hungry. I wouldn't trade it for the world, although it's hard sometimes not to wonder if it will never get any easier. I just wish we knew freelance writers in their forties who make a good living, sending their kids off to school, and returning to their computers to write for eight hours the way that, traditionally, parents would go to the office. I wish we had a model to follow, just like we have one to deviate from.

On the flip side of this coin, though it doesn't answer any of my questions, most of the kids I've met out here have full-time jobs. They work at cosmetics counters, at casinos, or in laboratories. All of them seem pretty content. And, in case you were wondering, all of them also have teeth.

Write to me at AinsleyDrew at gmail. And thanks for everybody who contributed "meet the 'rents" horror stories. Keep 'em coming, if I get enough of them I'll compile a post when this trip is over that presents them all anonymously.

The OK 140

Sooner State

J'avais des petites appréhensions en ouvrant mes lettres de l'université (j'ai fait ma petite prière) de devoir me présenter à des rattrapages. Mais j'ai été moins mauvais que je ne le pensais. Un petit 8/20 dans une de mes matières préférées... comme quoi. Sinon le reste passe au dessus de la moyenne, mais parfois tout juste.

A priori, cette troisième année ne se déroulera pas vraiment en France. Avec Ali, on espère être pris à la TU-Delft (Université Technique) pour mettre une touche internationale à notre diplôme. Bien qu'on ait déjà réalisé nos stages à l'étranger, finalement. En fait, c'est plus pour s'échapper de l'école et changer d'air. Ainsi, la Hollande me rattrape encore. Il n'y a pas loin pour que je finisse ma vie là-bas.

Si la demande de cursus est acceptée, une dure année m'attend, le niveau doit être un peu plus élevé, le travail personnel plus important. Tout cela dans l'espoir de devenir un Ingénieur en Mécatronique, qui pourrait m'ouvrir des portes aussi bien en automobile, aéronautique que domotique, et me permettre de toucher à l'informatique, l'électronique ou l'automatique.

C'est plutôt la porte ouvrant sur la domotique qui m'intéresserait, et l'innovation dans les maisons 'intelligentes'. J'aime bien la voitures, et a fortiori les avions, mais rien que d'y penser, ça me stresse. Je n'ai plus que quelques mois pour y réfléchir. Dans 6 mois, j'ai un stage à réaliser, et il serait de bon ton qu'il s'accorde avec mon projet professionnel. Encore balbutiant...

'cor du travail.
Kayou