Category: Personal

Anything and everything about me and my life. You’ll have to hunt a lot for gossip-worthy tidbits, though.

Histoires d'oreilles [fr]

[en] Sharing my hearing and hearing aid story -- and opening a francophone facebook group for people who don't hear that well, whether with or without hearing aids.

L’autre soir, comme souvent dans des situations acoustiquement difficiles, je parle de mes oreilles et de mes appareils. En face de moi, le hasard veut qu’il y ait deux personnes à l’ouïe “pas top”. On a donc parlé longtemps, et j’ai raconté toute mon histoire.

J’ai toujours été un peu sourde. C’est familial. Mon frère aussi. Mon père aussi, probablement. Bref, dans la famille on est durs de la feuille.

Première tentative d’appareillage quand j’avais 14 ans. Fin des années huitante, gros appareils “intra” couleur chair qui se voyaient bien, inconfortables, réglage pour mon gain “idéal” très probablement, filles de la classe qui se fichent de moi: j’essaie deux jours puis ils vont finir leur vie dans leur boîte.

Je m’en sors très bien sans. Je sais que j’entends “pas très bien” et je le dis — mais je me rends compte aujourd’hui que je n’avais aucune idée à quel point j’étais sourde. Il a fallu que mon frère fasse le pas d’un appareillage, qu’il me parle un peu du processus et de la différence que ça faisait pour lui, de “bien entendre”, pour que j’y pense à nouveau. Aussi, je commence à me rendre compte dans mes activités professionnelles que mon ouïe m’handicape. Je n’entends souvent pas les questions des étudiants ou du public quand je donne une conférence. Je dois faire répéter. Ça devient un peu lassant.

Il me faudra encore quelques années pour passer à l’action. Je trouve le côté geek des appareils auditifs et accessoires fascinant. Je pose des questions à mon audioprothésiste dont il doit chercher la réponse. Ça lui change du quotidien…

Mes appareils sont roses. Ils sont derrière l’oreille, assez petits pour ne pas être très visibles (enfin quasi invisible sauf quand je relève mes cheveux, ce que je ne fais pas normalement car ils sont courts). Le micro est dans l’oreille, avec un embout “ouvert” plus confortable que le moulage fermé que j’ai quand même testé. Un “compromis”, dit mon audioprothésiste (parce que la qualité audio est censée être meilleure avec le moulage), mais je peux vivre avec ça.

Ils ont deux micros chacun et ils communiquent entre eux. Ça leur permet de savoir d’où vient le son et d’introduire cette variable dans la façon dont ils le traitent, de répercuter dans mes oreilles les décalages qu’on entendrait normalement et qui nous permettent de localiser un son.

J’ai choisi la taille “pas mini-mini” pour avoir un bouton “programme”. J’ai quatre programmes différents: un normal, un pour environnements bruyants, un pour les situations calmes avec légère suramplification, et un “silence” pour quand je suis dans le train avec les gosses qui crient à côté 😉

Il y a des tas de choses à raconter sur mon aventure auditive: comment ça a changé ma vie, comment se passe l’adaptation, comment on minimise toujours l’importance de sa surdité (“j’entends pas bien mais c’est pas si grave, je m’en sors sans appareils”), le look des appareils en 2013 (et leur taille!), les situations “impossibles” comme les restaurants, l’absence de communauté de hackers dans ce domaine (on a besoin de nos appareils, et à 6500 balles la paire on va pas s’amuser à les démonter “pour voir”), les anti-larsens, l’habituation, les acouphènes…

Bref, de quoi écrire une bonne demi-douzaines d’articles de blog, ou d’ouvrir un groupe facebook — ce que j’ai fait.

Pour le moment c’est un groupe secret, mais je pense que ce sera pour finir un groupe fermé: contenu inaccessible aux non-membres, mais listing des membres et descriptif du groupe visibles. Si ça vous intéresse de rejoindre le groupe pour partager vos histoires d’oreilles (avec ou sans appareils) ou écouter celles des autres, faites-moi signe et je vous y invite!

3e #back2blog challenge (1/10), avec: Brigitte Djajasasmita (@bibiweb), Baudouin Van Humbeeck (@somebaudy), Mlle Cassis (@mlle_cassis), Luca Palli (@lpalli), Yann Kerveno (@justaboutvelo), Annemarie Fuschetto (@libellula_free), Ewan Spence (@ewan), Kantu (@kantutita), Jean-François Genoud (@jfgpro), Michelle Carrupt (@cmic), Sally O’Brien (@swissingaround), Adam Tinworth (@adders), Mathieu Laferrière (@mlaferriere), Graham Holliday (@noodlepie), Denis Dogvopoliy (@dennydov), Christine Cavalier (@purplecar), Emmanuel Clément (@emmanuelc), Xavier Bertschy (@xavier83). Follow #back2blog.

Here We Go Again [en]

[fr] Des nouvelles.

Holidays in Spain. Two weeks of crazy work upon my return. Then orphaned kittens at home.

Things are lightening up: the kittens are weaned and clean, the big cats are taking care of them, and they have future homes. Though I have two batches of exams to grade (one now, one early june) my work life is taking a more manageable pace.

I’ve been the worst slacker in the Blogging Tribe experiment. I have a huge backlog of insanely cute kitten photos and videos to process and put online. I’ve started planting things for my balcony again. The sailing season has started.

Next week’s objectives: go back to judo, get back into something resembling a blogging habit, and start my new exercice regimen.

Longer term? Figure out why despite having identified long ago that I take on too much and need to slow down, and making efforts in that direction, I am failing.

Life is good.

Sailing [en]

[fr] La voile et moi. Histoire.

Note: I’ve been thinking of writing this post all afternoon, but put it off because I figured I should illustrate it, and some of the photos I’d like to use are stuck on this computer because of the bad internet connection I have here. Perfect example of how wanting to do things “well” easily leads to doing them “not”.

My parents met in Scotland, sailing. So, if you’re one to read signs and stuff, it would come as no surprise that I like sailing. My largely land-bound brother would probably beg to differ.

As far as I can remember, my dad has had a boat of some kind. On Lac de Neuchâtel when we were little, then Lac Léman (Lake Geneva). Holidays on the French canals, in Yugoslavia (nowadays the Croatian islands), and around another lake I can’t quite clearly remember (Lake Constance?).

I always liked going on the boat, but stuck to doing what I was told, pretty much.

When I came back from India in 2000, I signed up to be waiting-listed for a berth in one of the Lausanne ports. I knew that finding a spot for the boat each year was a bit of a juggling act, and for complicated local political reasons, my dad couldn’t sign up for one. There was a 10-15 year waiting list, but it cost nothing, and I figured I might as well put myself on the list, just in case it became handy some day down the line.

In 2008, I was very surprised to receive notice that I had been attributed a mooring in Vidy. It was good timing, as the boat had recently been washed ashore after the buoy it was moored to outside the port had broken during a storm. It was damaged, but the insurance would pay. Now it had a safe place to live.

The mooring being in my name, I had to pass my sailing permit. This was a good thing: I’d been planning on doing it a few years earlier, but life took over and I dropped the project. This was the kick in the pants I needed. I started accompanying my dad and his crew more seriously on their Wednesday evening races, and passed my Swiss sailing permit in fall 2009.

Before I started actually learning how to sail, I remember I used to find it a rather frustrating experience. It was hard to steer the boat in the direction I wanted it to go (though I’d of course done it in the past, under supervision). I didn’t understand the wind, or how to trim the sails. A lot of what went on on the boat was a mystery to me.

With time and practice, though, things started to sink in. I started to be able to take the boat roughly where I wanted it to go. I started getting the hang of the sail thing.

With a boat at sea now (here in Torrevieja, Spain), it made sense for me to go one step further and do a sea-based course. That’s what I’ve been doing this week — the RYA Day Skipper course. (I also added in Powerboat level 2 and VHF/DSC operator training, but that was unplanned, icing on the cake.) I learned a lot during this course (if you’re in Spain and want classes, book with Serenity Sailing without hesitation), but it also allowed me to realise how far I’ve come in just a few years. A whole lot of things which I used to find challenging are now almost automatic: I know where the wind is without having to really think of it, for example, because I now pick up on a bunch of signs that give me this information.

So the next step now? Gather a bunch of friends who are interested in a sailing holiday, and charter a boat for a week or two somewhere in some nice sunny islands. Oh, and if you have a powerboat lying around somewhere that needs to be taken out for a spin every now and again, let me know!

Arc-en-ciel, ICC, kitesurf [fr]

[en] In Torrevieja. Saw the most impressive rainbow I've ever seen (only iPhone photos, sorry). About to start my Day Skipper course, and interested in taking up kitesurfing.

Bon, article bateau, je sais, mais avant-hier, je crois bien que j’ai vu le plus bel arc-en-ciel de ma vie. 180° d’arc, double arc tout le long, luminosité magnifique, indigo visible. J’avais bien entendu laissé mon bon appareil de photo au bateau, alors je n’ai que des photos-iPhone.

Torrevieja After The Storm 4

Torrevieja After The Storm 2 Torrevieja After The Storm 3

Après l’orage, il fait beau ici à Torrevieja. Environ 20°C dehors (plus au soleil), nuits fraîches, bateau qui tangue juste ce qu’il faut. Demain, je commence mon cours de voile de 5 jours (Day Skipper) à la fin duquel j’aurai mon ICC. Le ICC est le papier qui est généralement demandé pour naviguer en mer dans les eaux territoriales. (Après, il y a ce qu’on est capable de faire, et c’est une autre histoire.)

Déjà en octobre dernier, j’avais remarqué de nombreux kitesurfs dans les parages. Le kitesurf, ça me fait toujours penser à Loïc, avide kitesurfeur. Je me souviens d’ailleurs d’une époque où une photo de lui faisant du kitesurf illustrait son blog (ou son compte Facebook? son blog, je crois).

Bref, ça me fait extrêmement envie, et je vais profiter de ces prochains jours pour me renseigner. Je suis sûre qu’il doit être possible de prendre des cours de kitesurf pour les jours où il y a tellement de vent qu’on n’a pas vraiment envie de naviguer!

Random Notes About My 2012-2013 India Trip [en]

A few random notes about my Indian trip, which I was sure I had published, but just found sitting in my MarsEdit drafts.

Health-wise, it was “interesting”. It started off with itchy knees that I carelessly brought from Switzerland. A nice dermatologist near Pune University helped me get rid of it (cream, antihistaminics, and even anti-scabies stuff — it was my big fear). In Kerala, I awoke after a first night of sleep to tons of little itchy bites on my forearm. Bed bugs? Fear, yes, but it seems not: thorough examination and repeat nights with no incident thankfully ruled that out. The bites disappeared, but I’m still curious what caused them.

In Mysore, I carelessly dropped a hearing aid — which promptly died. With three weeks of holiday left to go, it was worth thinking up a solution to get it fixed before my return to Switzerland. I ended up testing Fedex in India for you. There is an office in Mysore, and I’m happy to say it was quite painless: 2800 INR, an announced shipping time of 4 days which they managed to keep. My audiologist was able to change the 70 CHF piece that needed it and send the hearing aid right back again. 140 CHF of shipping! I’m not sure how many days they promised him, but the package took longer to reach me in Kolkata than on the way out. Looking at the tracking data for both packages shows that some parts of the shipping process in India are still big black holes. 48 hours at Delhi airport? Heck. Probably lying in a pile somewhere while people had tea (yeah, I’m probably unfair).

Anyway, the package did reach me and I was very happy to have both ears again for the end of my stay. So, success.

Around the time of my arrival in Kolkata, one of my teeth started reacting really painfully to cold and hot. I’ve always had sensitive teeth (to cold), but this was beyond anything. It got worse and worse, to the extent that I just didn’t want to drink anymore. I needed a dentist. Knowing I have a bunch of 15-to-20-years-old fillings that will at some point need replacing, I figured that if I found a good dentist, I might as well do the work in India. Which I did. A two-session root canal treatment on a molar cost me about a tenth of the price it would have in Switzerland. The dentist in question did part of his training in the UK and worked with Somak and Aleika’s dentist in Birmingham, who recommended him and sent their files there. So, there we go. My first root canal, in Kolkata. The result is magical, I can tell you: no more pain. I think that tooth had been hurting me for a very long time, actually, but I didn’t really notice it until it got really bad.

Aside from the medical stuff, I experimented properly with radio-rickshaws in Pune — Autowale.in. After a couple of successful trips, I booked an auto to bring my parents back after New Year’s Eve party. That was a disaster. Whereas for my previous bookings I had received a call from the driver about an hour before to check the pick-up point, this time around we hadn’t heard anything 30 minutes before. We called. The driver said it would take him at least 90 minutes to get there as his auto had broken down. We called the booking centre to ask them to find a replacement, and we were told that there were no available cars and that we had to “find an alternative”. Try finding an alternative in the university campus around 1am on January first. Well, the Shindes made a bunch of calls, and the son of a neighbor left his party to drive my parents back to their hotel. In the meantime, I left a pretty upset note on Autowale’s Facebook wall. We were really pissed off. The happy ending to this story is that the incident did finally get internal attention at Autowale — they asked me for details and I got an e-mail apology from the CEO, saying this was indeed completely unacceptable and that they needed to find a solution so this kind of situation didn’t happen again. Well, I’m willing to give them another chance next time I’m in Pune. But they better not mess up again: when you book a radio auto it’s usually specifically because you know it will be very difficult to find a ride. Leaving you stranded is just disastrous!

In the “new things” department we also did quite a lot of “day trip with car” outings. Most of them good experiences, some of them a tiny bit sour when it came to payment. No huge disasters, though. Two memorable rides were those to and from Mysore. We took a car from Kannur to Mysore, through the mountains and the national park. Crap road but beautiful scenery. And then, from Mysore to Bangalore, that was more memorable in the “dreadful” category. One of my family members was sick (first part of the trip went OK, but by the time we reached Bangalore we were stopping the car every 10-15 minutes). We got stuck half an hour (thankfully not more) on Mysore road because a car had hit a school girl and killed her, we were told. (I saw an ambulance go by after, though, so I like to think that maybe she did make it after all.)

Indian roads are deadly. Those close shaves we sometimes admire are sometimes too close and end up shaving off a life. I think I had looked up number last year: something like 100’000 deaths per year on Indian roads. 4000 in Pune alone. (Check those numbers somewhere if you’re going to use them.) To compare, Switzerland (roughly the population of Pune): 350-400 a year. In Kolkata I saw quite a few ambulances go by (Akirno’s school is near a hospital). People don’t even make way for them — or worse, they cut them off. Last year when I was stuck in Bangalore traffic to go and take my bus to Kerala, there was an ambulance stuck with us. If you need an ambulance to get you fast to the hospital to stay alive, you’re probably dead. You’d better not need one.

In Kolkata we had a car with a driver at our disposal. I have to say it makes a world of difference when it comes to going out and getting stuff done. Having to find taxis and rickshaws is stressful, even when you’ve become used to it. Don’t get any grand visions about the car and driver though. Boot bashed in, screaming belt, and over the last days we had to push it to start it quite a few times. This did result in a change of cars, however.

In addition to Loki the annoying puppy, I got to meet Coco, the baby African Grey parrot. My first bird contact, really! Let me just say that bird feet are warm (was sure they were cold, silly me), and that I had a great time interacting with Coco and getting to know him. Birds are not boring at all and need a lot of attention! I was there for his first flight across the room — took us all by surprise, him too, probably.

To wrap up I’ll leave you with this article that appeared in Metro during my stay, about Presidency University and some of the infrastructure problems there. Sadly Somak forgot to tell the journalist about the giant rat that fell from the ceiling onto the instrument the students had spent a good long time calibrating so they could run their experiment, or the guy who was sitting hunched up on his chair in his office the first day he met him, because there was 10cm of water on the floor.

My Interest in Organisations and how Social Media Fits in [en]

[fr] Ce qui m'intéresse dans ces histoires d'organisations, et le lien avec les médias sociaux (du coup, aussi des infos sur mon intérêt pour ceux-ci).

I found these thoughts about organisations at the beginning of Here Comes Everybody fascinating: organisations and how they disfunction are a long-standing interest of mine, dating back to when I was a student with a part-time job at Orange. My initial interest was of course function rather than dysfunction. How does one make things happen in an organisation? What are the processes? Who knows what? It was the organisation as system that I found interesting.

Quickly, though, I bumped my head against things like processes that nobody knew of and nobody was following. Or processes that were so cumbersome that people took shortcuts. Already at the time, it seems I displayed a “user-oriented” streak, because my first impulse was to try to figure out what was so broken about those processes that people found it more costly to follow them than come up with workarounds. Or try to understand how we could tweak the processes so that they were usable. In reaction to which one manager answered “no, people must follow the processes”. I didn’t know it then, but I guess that was when I took my first step towards the door that would lead me out of the corporate world.

More recently, and I think I haven’t yet got around to blogging this, I have remembered that my initial very “cluetrainy” interest for the internet and blogging and social media really has to do with improving how people can relate to each other, access information, and communicate. The revelation I had at Lift’06 (yes, the very first Lift conference!) while listening to Robert Scoble and Hugh McLeod about how this blogging thing I loved so much was relevant to business was that it pushed business to change and humanised it. Blogging and corpepeak don’t mix well, blogging is about putting people in contact, and about listening to what is being said to you. As the Cluetrain Manifesto can be summarised: it’s about how the internet changes the way organisations interact with people, both outside and inside the organisation.

That is what rocks my boat. Not marketing on Facebook or earning revenue from your blog.

Again and again, when I talk to clients who are trying to understand what social media does and how to introduce it in their organisation, we realise that social media is the little piece of string you start pulling which unravels everything, from corporate culture to sometimes even the business model of the organisation. You cannot show the human faces of a company that treats its employees like robots. You cannot be “authentic” if you’re out there to screw people. You cannot say you’re listening if you’re not willing to actually listen.

Of course, there is the question of scale. I’ll get back to that. Personal doesn’t scale. Radical transparency or authenticity doesn’t scale. But your average organisation is so far off in the other direction…

I’ve realised that my interest lies more with organisations and forms of collaboration and group effort than with social media per se, which I see first and foremost as a tool, a means to an end, something which has changed our culture and society. I find ROWE and Agile super interesting and want to learn more about them. I have a long-standing interest in freelancing and people who “do things differently”. I’m interested in understanding how we can work and be happy, both. I’m also realising that I have more community management skills than I take credit for.

In the pile of books I brought up with me to the chalet, next to “Organisations Don’t Tweet, People Do” by my friend Euan Semple and books around freelancing there is “Delivering Happiness“, the story of Zappos, and “One From Many“, the story of VISA, the “chaordic organisation” — and “Rework” (37signals) has now joined the ranks of the “have read” books in my bookshelves.

Au chalet: une vie simple et propice à l'écriture [fr]

[en] Life slows down at the chalet. Fewer options to fill my days. Lots of reading, lots of writing. Hence the flood of blog posts.

Autour du chalet, photo calendrier

Quelques jours au chalet. De la lecture, du triage de photos, de la cuisine, et de l’écriture. Hors ligne, j’ai pondu une bonne dizaine d’articles pour Climb to the Stars. Il faudra rajouter des liens (mais j’ai déjà préparé le terrain en insérant d’emblée les liens mais en mettant “article sur x ou y” à la place de l’URL), certes, mais c’est écrit. Il va juste falloir que je décide comment et à quel rythme les publier.

Est-ce parce que je suis hors ligne? Pas certaine que ce soit la raison principale. En fait, au chalet, ma vie est plus simple. J’avais déjà fait ce constat en Inde (quand je suis ailleurs qu’à Pune).

Ici, je n’ai pas de vie sociale, pas de travail à accomplir, pas de compta à faire. Il n’y a pas de télé, pas d’internet, je n’écoute pas de musique ou de podcasts. J’ai juste à m’occuper des chats et de moi, me faire à manger (les courses c’est déjà fait), et voilà. Je n’ai même pas à réfléchir aux jours qui viennent, après ma petite retraite, car je suis ici dans une parenthèse hors du temps.

Je me suis créé un contexte où mettre des priorités est ridiculement simple, et où il y a très peu de décisions à prendre (quoi lire? quoi écrire? quelles photos trier?). On pense aux auteurs qui s’exilent quelque part pour finir d’écrire.

Je m’endors à 21h et je suis réveillée par les chats à 5h30, après plus de 8h de sommeil. Impensable à la maison, avec les possibilités infinies du monde dans lequel je baigne.

Cet état, je le retrouve également lorsque je navigue. Sur un bateau, il n’y a pas grand-chose à faire (à part naviguer bien sûr, ce qui n’est pas rien!) Vivre ainsi est extrêmement reposant, mais j’ai conscience que ce n’est possible que parce que c’est une parenthèse, justement.

Ça me fait penser à mon année en Inde, qui s’éloigne à grands pas dans les brumes du passé. Après six mois environ, je m’étais reconstruite une vie aussi complexe que celle que j’avais laissée derrière moi en Suisse. J’avais des activités, une vie sociale, des projets. Je procrastinais, mon emploi du temps me stressais, je n’avais “pas assez de temps” (en Inde, vous imaginez!), bref, j’ai bien compris que le problème, c’était moi.

Durant ces parenthèses que je m’offre quelques fois par année, je me demande comment je pourrais simplifier ma vie “normale” — et si c’est possible. J’aime avoir des projets. Je m’intéresse à un tas de choses, trop, même. C’est une force qui me tire en avant, qui est extrêmement positive, mais dont je finis par devenir un peu la victime.

Bien entendu, je gère la complexité de ma vie bien mieux maintenant, à l’approche de la quarantaine, que lorsque j’avais à peine vingt ans. Je me connais mieux, je comprends mieux comment fonctionnent les gens et le monde, j’ai mis en place des systèmes et des stratégies pour éviter de me faire trop déborder, ou pour mieux supporter lorsque je le suis. Ça ne va pas tout seul, ce n’est pas forcément facile, mais dans l’ensemble, je n’ai pas trop à me plaindre.

Alors, faut-il simplifier? Simplifier, ça veut dire faire moins, pour moi, et possiblement, vouloir moins. J’ai récemment mis fin à une activité importante dans ma vie, parce que j’avais pris conscience que c’était juste logistiquement impossible pour moi d’y rester engagée “correctement” vu mon train de vie. Ça a été une décision extrêmement douloureuse qui a mis plus d’un an à mûrir, j’ai versé quantité de larmes et j’en verserai probablement encore, mais maintenant que c’est derrière je suis extrêmement soulagée. Allégée. Mon emploi du temps est un peu moins ingérable, je peux me consacrer mieux à ce que j’ai décidé de garder (et qui était encore plus important pour moi que ce à quoi j’ai renoncé), et j’ai aussi appris que je pouvais “lâcher”, même si ça me coûtait. FOMO et tout ça.

D’expérience, l’espace que je crée dans ma vie en “simplifiant” se remplit toujours assez vite. C’est si facile de dire “oui”! Pour simplifier vraiment, je crois qu’il faut vouloir moins. Difficile.

En attendant, je vais continuer à préserver ces “pauses”. J’en ai en plaine, aussi, mine de rien: je protège assez bien mes week-ends et mes soirées de ma vie professionnelle, par exemple. Mais ma vie personnelle est aussi parfois une source de stress, étonnamment. Et on sait que même avec plus de temps à disposition, ce n’est pas dit que l’on fasse enfin toutes ces choses auxquelles on a renoncé “par manque de temps“.

Mon article tourne un peu en rond, désolée. On en revient toujours au même: la compétence clé, pour moi du moins, c’est la capacité à hiérarchiser, à faire des choix et mettre des priorités. Et là-derrière se cache quelque chose qui est probablement encore plus que ça le travail d’une vie: faire les deuils des désirs que l’on ne poursuivra pas.

Je crois que je vais arrêter là ;-), quand j’ai commencé à écrire je voulais juste vous dire à quel point j’avais pondu une grosse pile d’articles pendant que j’étais ici!

Samedi soir fatigué [fr]

[en] Tired Saturday evening post.

Après quatre jours de SAWI (module 4), je suis raide, mais contente. C’est surtout aux étudiants qu’il faut le demander, mais je crois que ce module s’est vraiment bien passé.

Je voulais aller au cinéma hier soir mais je n’ai pas eu le courage de m’extraire de chez moi. Aujourd’hui, par contre, je m’y tiens. J’ai besoin d’aérer mon cerveau avant que la semaine prochaine démarre (une demi-journée de consulting, une conférence, une demi-journée d’enseignement: je vais encore bosser samedi).

J’ai sorti les chats et fait une vidéo de Tounsi, qui est fort câlin ces temps. Période des chaleurs? Possible. Quintus et lui sont de plus en plus “copains”, si on peut dire. Sommeil “en contact” (ils aiment visiblement les deux assez un coin particulier sur le canapé pour tolérer la proximité de l’autre afin d’y être), un peu de judo, courses-poursuites dehors… Contente aussi.

Cats in Contact

En passant, j’ai remarqué la forte viralité des photos de Tounsi sur Facebook. Quintus est moins populaire, peut-être parce qu’il est moins comique que Tounsi, juste très très cute.

Tounsi Facebook screenshot

Quintus Facebook screenshot

Premier panier de légumes du jardin potagerPour la deuxième fois, je suis allée chercher jeudi mon panier de légumes du jardin potager. J’adore. C’est juste en face de chez moi. Je vous en dirai plus long dans un autre article.

Encore contente: #back2blog fonctionne bien cette fois aussi, et mon groupe Going Solo pour indépendants également. Tout baigne. J’ai juste un peu trop de pain sur la planche d’ici fin avril.

2ème Back to Blogging Challenge, jour 6. Bloguent aussi: Nathalie Hamidi(@nathaliehamidi), Evren Kiefer (@evrenk), Claude Vedovini (@cvedovini), Luca Palli (@lpalli), Fleur Marty (@flaoua), Xavier Borderie (@xibe), Rémy Bigot (@remybigot),Jean-François Genoud (@jfgpro), Sally O’Brien (@swissingaround), Marie-Aude Koiransky (@mezgarne), Anne Pastori Zumbach (@anna_zap), Martin Röll (@martinroell), Gabriela Avram (@gabig58), Manuel Schmalstieg (@16kbit), Jan Van Mol (@janvanmol), Gaëtan Fragnière (@gaetanfragniere), Jean-François Jobin (@gieff). Hashtag:#back2blog.

"Happy Holidays" and Christmas boycotts: Here We Go Again [en]

[fr] Joyeux Noël!

It’s the time of the year again. Christmas. I like Christmas. I’m not Christian. And like each year, the stuff that annoys me is the “let’s boycott Christmas” movement and the American “Happy Holidays” stuff.

Here’s a post I wrote two years ago which pretty much sums it up and is still valid today.

I think making a point of saying “Happy Holidays” instead of simply “Merry Christmas” only emphasizes the religious/believing dimension of Christmas, in a sort of weird Streisand effect: “ew, it’s a Christian celebration, I’m not Christian, I’m not going anywhere near it.” To me this kind of attitude actually smells of fear. What on earth is wrong with considering Christmas a secular celebration of love and peace for those who do not believe (in Christianity), a celebration which has its historical roots in the dominant religious tradition of Europe and America, and that we keep around even when it’s emptied of its religious dimension? (Er… like Thanksgiving, for example?)

And even if it wasn’t, what is wrong with wishing somebody with a different faith of yours a good celebration of something that’s important to them? I have no problem wishing Muslims a Happy Eid, or Hindus a Happy Diwali — or Christians a Merry Christmas. Why would I seize the occasion to point out that I believe that what they believe is not true? I don’t see the point.

But again, my argument is that Christmas has long since ceased to be a religious celebration (except for the more religious Christians out there) and is now mainly a family/commercial thing.

Which brings us to my second pet peeve: people who throw out the baby with the bathwater and reject all of Christmas and all of the gift-giving because of the excesses involved. Of course, present inflation sucks. But there are ways to reject present inflation without throwing out Christmas. You can decide to have less presents. You can put a price cap. You can decide to have only presents that have cost time rather than money. You can have a present lottery with one present given and received per person. There are options.

What irks me the most with the (mostly) American “Happy Holidays” is that I don’t believe that Thanksgiving gets the same treatment. Hullo? Thanksgiving! The pilgrims! Giving thanks to… who, already? I sometimes see the very same people who turn their noses snobbishly up on Christmas joyfully feast on turkey at Thanksgiving. Why the double-standard?

So Merry Christmas everybody. Whatever you believe.

How Was 2012 So Far? [en]

[fr] 2012, année chaotique, mais qui se termine avec un retour vers la stabilité. 2013 s'annonce plutôt bien.

A conversation last night had me thinking back about the last few years. This morning, I stumbled upon this post that I wrote end 2009.

2009 was a good year. I felt like I was getting my act together. Everything came crumbling down in 2010, my “shit year“, and 2011 was largely a year of grieving. Healthy grieving, I’d like to add. Not easy to go through, but a hugely empowering life experience.

What about 2012? Well, it’s not quite finished, though I have two weeks of Lausanne life to go before heading off to India for my annual vacation. So I might as well look back now.

2012 has been chaotic. It’s been a year of changes and uncertainty, both personal and professional. You know how at times you feel like your life or a relationship has not reached its point of equilibrium? That it’s in flux, going somewhere, but not there yet? That’s what 2012 has felt like. On a very practical day-to-day level (the most important one, actually!) I adopted two cats, lost one two months later, and brought another one back from the UK just about a month and a half after that. It may seem like nothing, but for somebody who sometimes finds day-to-day life a bit of a challenge, it was quite a disruption in my life, and whatever was left of the routines and habits I’d formed the previous years kind of flew out the window. To give just one example, I climbed back on my exercise bike for what is possibly the first time in 2012… yesterday.

Tounsi & Quintus à l'eclau, proximité 3

In addition to that 2012 came with its lot of work changes and uncertainty: the end of a long-standing gig, two other important sources of work and revenue left hanging for quite a few months, growing dissatisfaction with the social media industry and figuring out where I want to go these next years…

All this shuffling around was taking me somewhere, and I think that with the year wrapping up, I’m pretty much there. Things are stabilizing. (Proof if needed: In addition to climbing back on my bike, I cleaned the dust webs off my ceiling again this week-end, something I’d been doing regularly in 2009 but that disappeared sometime between now and then.)

2013 is looking good — and exciting.