Scénariste/conceptrice
Quel style de carnetier �tes-vous ? What kind of blogger are you?
Sur son blogue toujours plein de bonnes ressources, Gilles tente de recenser les diff�rents types de carnetiers (ou blogueurs). Selon lui, je serais une techno-fileuse bilingue (c’est joli!). Je ne sais toujours pas exactement dans quoi je me classerais moi-m�me mais c’est int�ressant de faire l’exercice, si ce n’est que pour mieux comprendre nos propres raisons de tenir un cybercarnet.
In response to Karl’s post, or maybe as an echo to it:
« Profoundly committed to the better life, the promiscuous, like the monogamous, are idealists. Both are deranged by hope, in awe of reassurance, impressed by their pleasures. We should not be too quick to set them against each other. At their best, they are both the enemies of cynicism. It is the cynical who are dispiriting because they are always getting their disappointment in first. »
And also:
« Once we know the rules of a game we can think about our performance, we don’t have to worry about the game. We take some things for granted so that we can take other things for something else.
Infidelity is such a problem because we take monogamy for granted; we treat it as the norm. Perhaps we should take infidelity for granted, assume it with unharrassed ease. Then we would be able to think about monogamy. »
From Monogamy, by Adam Phillips.
Minus 40C with the wind factor today. When I walked between B’s house and mine this morning (4 minute walk), the wind made me cry and my tears froze at the bottom of my geek girl glasses, which stuck to my face like a tongue to a frozen post, fogging up and making me essentially blind (I’m very myopic). It’s a good thing B. and I live on the same street. I could walk to my place from his with my eyes closed but somehow I had a hard time doing it with one inch of ice in front of them. Still, I made it safely home, and after I put my contacts on I swore not to go back outside for the rest of the day.
There’s a big Hydro-Quebec truck behind my house and it keeps making the weirdest sounds, like the whole crew from Star Trek is working back there. I keep expecting Jean-Luc (Picard, bien s�r) to show up on my deck and ask if he can use my bathroom. They’ve been working for what seems like hours. The lights of my neighbors’ houses go off, and then back on. I think I’m the only one on the street who hasn’t lost power yet. I feel like I should go offer these guys some hot chocolate or something. Or maybe just a little pot de vin. One should always make friends with electricity workers in the heart of the winter.