Category: Personal

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

Stalling [en]

[fr] Trop à faire. 5 jours avant mon départ pour près de 4 semaines, et les priorités sont toutes conflictuelles. Aaaah! (Mais bon, je me connais, je vais m'en sortir.)

Gosh, I haven’t published in ages. Scary. I’m stalling. Too much to do, too little time, not sure where to start. Well, life is deciding for me, because I have 5 days left before departing on a nearly 4-week trip, and there is only so much one can do in 5 days. So, some news and some thoughts.

  • Going Solo: things are good. 25% of tickets sold in less than a week. Video of my speech finally made it online. Don’t miss Early Bird price until March 16th. In one word: register. Reminder: stay up-to-date on Going Solo by subscribing to the Going Solo blog or the Going Solo Twitter feed — much better source of news than CTTS.
  • 5 talks/things in less than two weeks. A talk for parents of teenagers in neighbouring France Thursday evening. A session at WebCamp SNP. A panel to moderate at BlogTalk. Co-hosting a core conversation at SXSW and moderating another panel (both multilingual stuff). I should blog about these more in detail. And more importantly, I have quite a bit of homework to do to prepare the four last ones. And I’m a bit anxious about how moderating panels will go — never done that before.
  • travel: Cork (Ireland), Dallas-Austin (Texas), San Francisco. That means I need to sort some stuff out before I leave for nearly a month (clean the flat, do some paperwork, pay bills, see people). I’m going to have to pack <shudder> — and I still need to unpack. I’ll be in San Francisco for two weeks, so maybe I want to organise a dinner or something there. I’ll be distributing Going Solo moo cards all along my journey. I’m apprehensive about all this travel. I don’t want to go. I want to stay here, curled up on the sofa, with the cat purring next to me. But I’m looking forward to seeing people I like.
  • work to do for Going Solo: not the least, unfortunately. Sort out the programme. Get back to all the people who sent in speaker proposals. Get sponsor/partner documentation and contracts sorted out so that the partners waiting in the lobby can be let in. Promote, promote. Worry about WiFi a bit more. Happily, video filming, venue set-up and design, and some offline promotion do not depend entirely on me. Prepare a “dossier de presse”. Finish rounding up media partners. Promote, promote.
  • blogging: posts piling up in my head. About books I’ve read or am reading: The Paradox of Choice, A Perfect Mess (got a post brewing about GTD and messiness), and The Black Swan of course. Need more time to read. More time to write. Can’t keep up.
  • misc: photos to upload, podcast to edit, other sites to update, e-mails to answer (I’m far from zero right now), plants to water, a life to live…

This roughly sums up where I’m at right now.

On Being Wiped Out [en]

[fr] Epuisée mais contente. Si je ne vous reconnais pas, si je vous demande trois fois votre nom, si j'essaie de vous donner des cartes de visite trois fois... soyez indulgents. Je suis hyper contente de la réception de mon discours sur l'histoire de Going Solo.

My poor brain can’t follow anymore. I’m loosing track of who I speak to, who I’ve met, who I’ve given Going Solo moo cards too (even to my friends). I’m delighted with the reception of my speech about Going Solo — swept off my feet, even.

Many people have come to tell me they liked my speech, that it was inspiring, that they are going to come to Going Solo, that they want to interview me (I’ve lost track of the number of interviews I’ve given today, honestly), or talk about partnerships or possible synergies.

I’m feeling bad, because I was invited as one of the electronic media crowd to live-blog the event, and I think I’ve done a really crappy job of it. I hope to earn my pass tomorrow.

I’m not feeling overwhelmed as I was at FoWA, because I’m happy rather than frustrated and anxious. But I can’t keep up. Don’t get me wrong, I want to speak to you, and I’m going to. I also know that this is important for my event 🙂 — but if I look a little exhausted, if I ask you your name three times, try to give you Moo cards twice, or forget what you just told me… please be indulgent!

Christmas [en]

[fr] Quelques réflexions au sujet de Noël -- des grandes fêtes de mon enfance avec tous les cousins jusqu'aux fêtes plus intimes des familles fragmentées d'aujourd'hui.

Pour une fois, je ne suis pas stressée par les cadeaux de Noël. Je m'y suis prise "à l'avance" (dès jeudi au lieu de tout le 24), et j'ai même pris plaisir à choisir du joli paper d'emballage.

Les publications frénétiques sur ce blog ne reprendront sans doute pas avant la fin des fêtes de Noël.

Joyeux Noël à tous. Prenez le temps d'être avec ceux qui vous sont chers.

As a kid, I used to like Christmas. It was a chance to get together with all my cousins, uncles and aunts, eat nice food, light the Christmas tree and distribute presents. I like to think we are a family which didn’t go overboard with presents. A CD, a book, a nice vase, a jumper, or a couple of beautiful candles — sometimes bigger presents from parents to children, obviously, but overall, I’m pretty proud of us, looking back.

As I grew older and the “next generation” of kids started arriving (and we became proper adults), the annual Christmas gathering broke up into smaller parts. I don’t see my cousins at Christmas any more. We all celebrate in our smaller, nuclear families.

Then there are break-ups, divorces, and more fragmentation.

My brother and I get two Christmas parties nowadays. One with my dad and “his” side of the family, and a similar one with my stepmum. Four-five people, smaller than the gatherings of my childhood, but cosy. Sometimes, these small family gatherings seem a better site for tensions between individuals to surface — but maybe this has more to do with me being an adult now than the size of the group. As a child, one isn’t always aware of all that is going on in the “grown-up world”.

So, overall, I like Christmas — even if over the last years there have been some parties which have not turned out as fun as we hoped.

The one thing I don’t like is shopping for Christmas presents.

I don’t like the commercial overload one is subjected to in the shops. I don’t like the fact that there are too many people. And I don’t like the fact that usually, I leave Christmas shopping until the last minute, and have to find/buy my presents in a rush on the 24th before going to the party in the evening.

This year, things are different.

I decided to start early. “Early”, for me, means that I went Christmas shopping two days ago, on Thursday. I bought a couple of presents. I went again yesterday. Bought another few presents. And today: a few more.

The result of all this is that I had a nice time walking around town, looking at things in shops (which is something I like doing!), bumping into friends (because particularly around Christmas, Lausanne is a little village), choosing presents, and even buying pretty wrapping paper and cards.

Even my sprained big toe last night at judo hasn’t managed to make me feel stressed about these pre-Christmas times.

There isn’t much blogging here these days as you’ve noticed, as I’m spending a fair amount of time away from the computer — but no fear: I still have a pile of posts to write “asap”, ideas, and energy to keep things going. Might just have to wait until after Christmas, though.

Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy your time with those you hold dear. Remember it’s about love.

Du lavage de linge sale en ligne [fr]

[en] Nearly two years ago, I did a piece for a paper magazine on blogging, Netizen. I still haven't been paid, and I'm not the only one to have this kind of complaint towards the company Pointblog's CEO, Christophe Ginisty. I think that there are circumstances, when you're wronged, where it's legitimate to use blogging to expose what has happened -- against popular ethics which discourage you from washing your dirty linen in public.

“L’affaire” Ginisty-Pointblog, dont j’ai l’honneur d’être une des victimes, refait surface avec la fermeture de Pointblog. J’attendais que Chryde nous raconte sa version des faits, après les quelques mots de Gilles Klein à l’adresse précédente, la “défense parfaite” de Ginisty, le lavage de linge sale de Cyril Fiévet il y a déjà longtemps de cela, pour faire un petit dossier récapitulatif sur ce qui a été dit.

Mais je les entends déjà, les bien-pensants: “laver son linge sale en public, c’est pas beau!” “citer des extraits de conversation privée, ça se fait pas!” “arrêtez d’étaler cette vilaine histoire sur vos blogs!”

Oui… oui. Oui mais. Quand il y a un conflit, et que la discussion n’est pas possible avec l’une des parties concernées… qu’est-ce qu’on fait? Eh bien, quand il s’agit d’argent, par exemple, on fait des procès. C’est public, les procès. Salement public.

En ce qui me concerne, on ne me doit “que” 1050€. Je suis une petite joueuse à côté d’autres lésés, j’en ai bien conscience. 1050€, c’est quand même une somme, pour moi. Cela représente près de la moitié de mon budget mensuel. Bah, j’ai appris à vivre sans, depuis le temps (bientôt deux ans!) que j’attends cet argent, envers et contre tout. Mais je peux vous dire qu’en temps de vaches maigres (comme ces jours) j’y repense, j’y repense.

1050€, il n’y a pas de quoi aller s’amuser à faire des frais d’avocats pour ça. Surtout si on habite en Suisse, et que le débiteur est en France, lui. Ah, s’il était en Suisse! Un petit commandement à payer, et voilà, le tour est joué. Mais en France, c’est pas si simple, à ce qu’il paraît.

Donc, nous y arrivons, au linge sale sur les blogs. Parce qu’un blog, comme je le dis souvent, ça peut être utilisé pour trois fonctions principales: partager, informer, dénoncer. Oui, dénoncer.

Alors non, en effet, ce n’est pas très beau de laver son linge sale en public. Mais c’est pas très beau non plus de mener les gens en bateau, de faire des promesses qu’on ne tient pas, de les laisser dans le noir, avec (probablement) l’espoir qu’ils se lassent. Au risque de passer pour hargneuse (je veux bien assumer), je ne vais pas me la coincer.

Mais il y a des circonstances, où, merde, on a bien le droit d’utiliser son blog pour parler de nos mésaventures et montrer du doigt ceux qui nous font des sales coups. Il faut assumer les conséquences, ensuite, bien entendu. Comme dans “la vraie vie” (que je déteste ce genre de distinction), quand on dénonce, on court le risque de s’en prendre plein la figure. Eh bien soit. Christophe Ginisty ne va certainement pas apprécier que je le montre du doigt, ou que je rapporte des choses qu’il m’a dites (il m’a quand même fait l’honneur de 2-3 conversations par chat, figurez-vous!). Peut-être m’écrira-t-il (enfin! depuis le temps que j’attends un signe de sa part!) comme à Chryde, pour me menacer ou m’expliquer encore à quel point il est la victime dans cette histoire.

Peu importe. J’en ai ma claque. Pour le billet plus long, mesuré, avec citations et tout le toutim, il faudra repasser dans quelques jours/temps. Ou pas — on sait jamais, avec ces satanés blogs, si et quand on écrira ce qu’on a l’intention d’écrire. Donc au cas où (et si vous voulez prendre de l’avance et vous faire votre propre opinion), voici ma petite collection de liens sur cette triste histoire.

Blogopen in Novi Sad, Serbia [en]

[fr] Je suis allée en Serbie donner une conférence sur "être une consultante en blogs" lors du festival "Blogopen" qui a eu lieu samedi à Novi Sad. La conférence s'est extrêmement bien passée, mais n'a malheureusement pas été enregistrée. Les retours ont été assez incroyables, au point que c'était presque pas forcément évident à gérer.

For the last few days I’ve been getting weird digital looks on IM and IRC. You’re in Serbia? What on earth are you doing there?

Simple answer: I came here to give a talk during Blogopen. A few months ago I was contacted by Tatjana Vehovec. Pedja Puselja, a popular Serbian blogger living in Strasbourg, had recommended me as a speaker. Well, past the initial surprise, I happily accepted. That’s how, Saturday just past, I ended up giving a talk on what it is to be a “Blogging Consultant” to a room full of Serbian bloggers and other interested people.

Those of you who give talks regularly know that all “performances” are not equal. I’m happy to say this was a good one. (I was quite happy with the one I gave at Web2Open too, come to think of it.) It was streamed live on Blog.tv by Pedja, but unfortunately (and to my great frustration) it was not recorded. (Had I known it would be broadcast, I would have let you know…) I really need to remember to organise recording for future speaking engagements.

But then… wow, the feedback I got was almost overwhelming. At least three people came up to me saying my talk had really inspired them. A publisher in the room asked me if I would write a guide to being a “blogging consultant”, which would be translated into Serbian. I had put what was left of my Moo cards on the table, thinking a dozen or so people would take one — they all disappeared. I got interviewed on Croatian national TV (the journalist was very nice and promised to send me a copy of the raw interview — I hope he does, because I was very happy with it and would like to be able to show it to you).

Basically, I felt like a superstar or an extraterrestrial which had just descended on planet earth. A very mixed feeling, I have to say — somewhat pleasant, but mainly disturbing to me. I felt like it created a huge distance between me and other people. Hence my use of “overwhelming” to try and describe it. I was very very happy to have my lovely host Sanja by my side during that day. (I’ll write more about that in another post.)

Recherche de Fonds [fr]

[en] Basically, some version of A Day at the Frankfurter Buchmesse.

Je reviens de Francfort avec les idées un peu plus claires. Même si cette dans l’ensemble peu encourageant, j’ai trouvé à la foire du livre des informations qui me permettent d’avancer. En particulier, une discussion avec le responsable de l’ASDEL et une autre avec Hunter Lovins et mon ami Joi Ito m’ont fourni des informations précieuses.

Tout d’abord, j’abandonne mon espoir un peu naïf d’obtenir une avance via un agent ou un éditeur. Le monsieur de l’ASDEL (dont j’ai oublié le nom) m’a fait remarquer qu’il fallait vendre beaucoup d’exemplaires (500 déjà !) pour pouvoir donner ne serait-ce que CHF 1000 à un auteur. De ses mots : « il n’y a aucune raison que les éditeurs entretiennent certains auteurs pour qu’ils puissent écrire… » ou quelque chose comme ça.

Certes. En attendant, je trouve qu’il y a quelque chose de cassé avec ce système. Je ne parviens pas encore tout à fait à mettre mes pensées à ce sujet clairement en mots. Je pense que cela a quelque chose à voir avec le fait que ce n’est pas en se pliant aux impératifs économiques que l’on fait avancer le monde. Enfin si, chercher à être rentable fait bouger les choses, mais je remarquais l’autre jour que les « amateurs » avaient un avantage sur les « professionnels » : il peuvent se consacrer à leur passion sans se soucier de sa rentabilité.

Je digresse un peu. Pour en revenir à ma situation, me lancer dans l’écriture d’un livre est quelque chose de stressant. C’est une entreprise difficile, mais dans laquelle je désire me lancer, d’une part parce que je crois vraiment qu’un livre au sujet des adolescents et Internet, à destination des parents et en français, sera utile à de nombreuses personnes (sans avoir pour autant la prétention de m’imaginer que ce sera un best-seller), et d’autre part parce que je m’écrire, et que je suis certaine qu’une fois dedans, je trouverai une certaine satisfaction personnelle à mener à terme un tel projet d’écriture.

Et sans vouloir avoir l’air de me plaindre (parce que c’est bien moi qui l’ai choisi), un statut d’indépendante s’accompagne d’un stress financier certain. Même si j’en aurais objectivement le temps, cela me rend d’autant plus difficile de me libérer l’esprit pour écrire (tâche qui n’est déjà pas simple en soi) alors que je « devrais » être en train de faire 50’000 autres choses pour améliorer ma visibilité professionnelle et attirer des clients (si tant est qu’une chose pareille est possible).

Bref, dans ces circonstances, très difficile de m’y mettre. Ne serait-il donc pas « raisonnable », d’un point de vue « société », qu’il existe un moyen pour me permettre de produire cet ouvrage qui — je l’espère — sera une aide précieuse à une génération de parents ? Vous voyez où je veux en venir… Je ne suis pas sûre des ramifications politiques de mes idées… Mais à une certaine époque, il y avait des mécènes ? (Non, je ne suis pas une artiste, je suis au courant…)

Encore une fois brève, parce que je vois que je divague franchement, j’abandonne l’idée d’obtenir une avance de la part d’un éditeur, et (à plus forte raison puisqu’il s’agit d’un projet à visée éducative) je vais simplement chercher un organisme qui consentira à subventionner ce projet. Cela doit bien exister quelque part ?

On m’a suggéré la Loterie Romande, mais d’après ce que je vois, elle ne subventionne que des institutions qui sont là à long terme. Je pense regarder aussi du côté de l’enseignement et de la santé, mais pour le moment, cela reste un peu vague. Ou précisément ? À qui m’adresser ?

Côté publication, par contre, cela paraît relativement simple : le marché est complètement saturé et les éditeurs croulent sous les manuscrits (encore plus en France qu’en Suisse). Faut pas rêver. Heureusement, à l’ère d’Internet, l’auto publication est presque devenue un jeu d’enfant, grâce à Blur ou Lulu.com, par exemple. Pourquoi aurait-on encore besoin d’un éditeur ?

Le monsieur de l’ASDEL (qui m’a d’ailleurs indiqué trois ou quatre éditeurs romands susceptibles de publier des ouvrages du genre du mien) me répond : « parce que l’éditeur, lui, sait ce qui est bon ». Donc, mise en avant du travail d’édition. Hunter Lovins, quant à elle, me dit qu’à moins de toucher une avance faramineuse, il n’est pas utile de s’encombrer d’un éditeur, et que l’expertise éditoriale que celui-ci peut apporter ne fait que mettre des bâtons dans les roues. D’après elle, le rôle principal de l’éditeur est de négocier avec l’imprimeur et les distributeurs, puis de prendre une généreuse part des bénéfices. En faisant un peu ses devoirs et avec un bon réseau, on peut facilement s’en passer. Son expérience avec les éditeurs est américaine cependant ; peut-on transposer ses conclusions à la Suisse ? Le désavantage, là, clairement, ce qu’il faut avancer l’argent pour l’impression.

Joi, lui, suggère d’auto-publier si je rencontre trop de difficultés à intéresser un éditeur. Une fois que le livre aura commencé à se vendre, et aura attiré un peu d’attention médiatique (online et offline), il devrait être plus facile d’en trouver un. Scénario optimiste je l’admets, mais c’est aussi vers celui-là que je penche. J’ai l’avantage d’avoir déjà un bon réseau, une crédibilité déjà établie dans le domaine, et une certaine maîtrise dans l’art de se rendre visible via Internet.

Dans tous les cas, la question de l’éditeur est moins urgente maintenant, puisque mon premier souci est de m’assurer une certaine tranquillité financière afin d’écrire. Si je décroche un mandat en or « au travail », ou que je gagne Lotto (il faudrait déjà commencer par acheter des billets), cela peut aussi jouer 😉

Très chers lecteurs, je fais donc comme d’habitude appel à votre soutien et à vos sages conseils. À qui m’adresser pour une demande de fonds ? Avez-vous des contacts directs avec des personnes qui pourraient m’aider ? Êtes-vous un riche mécène qui cherchait justement un auteur en devenir à subventionner ?

Il va sans dire que je prépare un dossier en béton qui démontrera que ce livre répond à un vrai besoin et qu’il se vendra extrêmement bien !

Note: article dicté, et pas vraiment relu, donc pas de craintes si vous voyez des fautes bizarres: c’est la faute au Dragon!

Too Many People [en]

[fr] J'ai atteint un point où je n'ai plus envie de faire de nouvelles connaissances. Je n'arrive déjà pas à voir les gens qui me sont chers autant que je voudrais. En ligne, les relations "délicates" (asymétriques, par exemple) sont plus faciles à gérer qu'hors ligne. De plus, les outils de "réseautage en ligne" nous aident à rester en contact avec plus de personnes qu'il ne nous serait normalement possible. Quand tout ça passe hors ligne, cela frise l'overdose.

This is a post in which I expect to be misunderstood, judged, and which will probably upset some. But it’s something that needs to be spoken about, because I’m certain I’m not the only one going through this, and I think it’s strongly related to what changes the internet is bringing into our lives when it comes to relating to people.

I’ve argued many times that online relationships and behaviors in general reproduce what goes on offline, so it may seem that I’m contradicting myself somewhat. But I think it’s also clear for everybody in this space that technology does change the way we live with others. Right now I see that our world is changing — it’s a bit blurry ahead, and actually I’m quite scared to see more clearly — and in our lifetimes, chances are the nature of human relationships will be deeply impacted by the technologies we are using and developing.

If all this doesn’t make sense, don’t worry. I’m not sure I understand what I’m saying myself. These might just be the tired rantings of a burnt-out and frustrated node in the network.

“Being an online person”, as I call it, means two things:

  • there are people out there who know you, sometimes quite well, but that you have never heard of
  • the “presence” dimension of our social tools allow you to keep in touch with more people (and better) than you would be able to offline

With their consequences, when your “online social life” goes offline:

  • micro-celebrity, micro-fame, fans
  • more relationships to nurture than the limited space and time permits

Our online social network does not necessarily translate well offline.

Let’s have a look at a few aspects of our relationships with others that we are maybe not necessarily the most proud of:

  • we like (or even love) some people more than others — or perhaps simply differently
  • we find some people more interesting than others
  • some people we are happy to spend long periods of time with, but infrequently — if we saw them every day they would drive us up the wall
  • some people we are happy to see a little each day, but would not want to spend a whole afternoon with
  • we sometimes want to spend time with one person (or some people) at the exclusion of others (others who can be people we care about, too)
  • we keep in touch with some people or are nice to them because they are useful to us
  • we like some people less than they like us (and vice-versa)
  • some people are business contacts to us, but would like to be our personal friend (or even get into our pants)

I think that if you look honestly, you will recognize yourself here. These facts about our social life are uncomfortable to deal with, and awkward. We don’t like thinking about them, much less talking about them. And we very rarely deal with them directly in the relationships they apply to.

Offline, we deal with a lot of this social awkwardness by avoiding it. This is why I argue that contact tagging, if done to structure our personal social network, must remain a private matter. We don’t tell some people certain things. We don’t mention that we’re meeting with Judy after lunch. We act a bit more distant with Tom than with Peter, hoping he’ll “get the message”. We tell Susie we’re too busy to see her, but drop everything when Mike invites us on a date.

Online, it’s even easier. We don’t respond to IMs or e-mails. We read certain blogs but not others. We chat absent-mindedly with Joe who is telling us his life-story, while we have a heart-to-heart discussion with Jack. We mark our status as DND but still respond to our best friend. We receive Twitter notifications on our phone from a select few, and keep a distracted eye on others’ updates. We lie more easily.

So, online, we actually have more freedom of movement (mainly because our emotional reactions are not so readily readable on the moment) to deal with some of these “awkward relationships” than offline — particularly, I would say, what I’d call the asymmetrical ones. From a networking point of view, being online is a huge advantage: the technology allows you to “stay in touch” with people who are geographically estranged from you, with a greater number of people than you could actually manage offline (“continuous partial friendship“), and it also allows you to keep in your network people who would probably not be in your offline circle, because it helps you tone down relationship awkwardness.

Conferences have lost their magic for me. I know, I know, I’m coming to this 18 months after everybody I know (I mean, I know I’m not alone and this is a normal process — but I’m still interested in analysing it). The first conferences I went to were bloody exciting. I got to meet all these people who were just names in my online universe, or with whom I’d been chatting for months or years, or whose blog I’d been reading in awe for ages. I made a lot of friends. (Maybe they wouldn’t agree, but that’s what it was like for me.) I met many people that I found interesting, likeable, wonderful, even. Some of them who also seemed to appreciate me back (as far as I can tell).

Over the last six months, conferences have become more and more frustrating. I’m speaking only of the social/networking aspect here. A dozen if not twenty people I really like are in town, sometimes more. Getting to see them offline is a rare occasion for me, and I’d like to spend half a day with each of them. But there is no time for that. People are here, and gone. They also have their other friends to see, which might not be mine.

To some, maybe, I’m “just another fan” — that I can live with, even if nobody likes being “just another fan”. But does one have to make conversation and appreciate every reader of one’s blog? If you like somebody’s blog, does that automatically mean they’re going to like you? Find your presence or conversation interesting? The hard reality of celebrity and fandom, even micro, is that the answer is “no”. It doesn’t mean that as a fan, I’m not an interesting person in my own right. It doesn’t mean that if I got to spend enough time with the person I’m fan of, they wouldn’t appreciate my company and find it enriching. But the fact I’m a fan, or a reader, doesn’t earn me any rights.

And increasingly, I’ve noted over the four or five last conferences I attended that there seem to be more people who want to get to know me than people I want to get to know. Or people who are interested in me for business reasons, but of the type where they get something out of me, and I don’t get much out of them. Or people who have been reading my blog for ages and are happy to be able to talk to me, but I know nothing of them.

I’ve reached a point where I don’t want any more people. I can’t keep up with my people, to start with. I feel spread too thin. I want to deepen relationships, not collect superficial ones. Contacts are useful for business, and though I’ve said many a time that the line between business and personal is more and more blurred, business contacts do not have to become personal friends. I know there are lots of wonderful people out there I don’t know. Lots of wonderful people I’ve maybe brushed aside or pushed away when suffering from “people overload”, when all I want to do is climb into my cave and stay there.

But you know, there are way too many great, interesting, fascinating people in the world to give them all the attention they deserve. Even if the world, here, is just “Web2.0-land”. But there is also a limit to how many meaningful conversations one can have in a day, and to how many meaningful relationships one can fit in a life. Those limits are personal. They vary from person to person. Some have them low, some have them high. But when the limit is reached, it’s reached.

So at some point, I need to choose who I spend my time with. In a very selfish way, I choose to give priority to the people in my life that I care for, and who bring me something. I’m there for me first, others after. I consider that one can only truly give and bring value to others when it is not at one’s own expense. I think this is valid in the economy of social relationships too. Being spread too thin impairs my ability to care — and I don’t want that.

Choosing who I spend my time with online is rather easy. I can tell the umpteenth guy who wants to “be friends” with me on IM that I have enough friends, I’m not looking for more, don’t chat with people I don’t know, and really can’t chat with him now. If he insists, I can ask him to leave me alone, and tell him that if he doesn’t, I’m going to have to block him. I can keep him out.

Offline, in a conference, it’s way more difficult. Maybe we need to take inspiration from Aram Bartholl and hang status messages around our necks, or chat windows (with curtains?) that we can close. I’m kidding, I honestly don’t think there is a real solution apart from being honest — in a socially acceptable and non-rejecting way (easier said than done).

I think we need more awareness of the complications offline to online transitions bring about. Maybe we’re going to have to start being explicit about these “social awkwardnesses” that I mentioned above — because changing the setting from online to offline makes it much more difficult to resolve them by ignoring them.

We’ve all been through the very unpleasant experience of being “stuck” in a conversation we don’t find interesting, but which is obviously fascinating for the other party. It happens even with our friends: I’m talking with Jill, and hear with my spare ear that Bill and Kate are talking about something much more interesting to me, but I can’t just dump Jill, can I? But what if Jill is somebody I’ve met 3 minutes ago — does that change anything? And of course, this dreadful thought: heck, could it be that I’m his/her Jill? Have I been the dreadful boring person one tries to shake off, without noticing?

These are human problems — they’re not technological. I feel I’m getting tired now and before I ramble too much (I feel I’m not very coherent anymore), I’ll don my flame-retardant suit (you never know) and hit publish. I’m looking forward to reading your reactions — whether you agree or disagree with me, of course.

Another RSI Break [en]

[fr] Vilain accès de TMS. Utilisez le téléphone ou skype si je dois vous répondre. Le Dragon est en panne, je serai de retour une fois qu'il sera réparé.

This post will be brief, obviously: I’m suffering from another very bad bout of RSI (with a proper tendonitis in my right arm, it seems).

To top it all, my dictation system has broken down (maybe just a dead microphone, hopefully). Basically, I’m mute. Think “losing one’s voice” or “having to spell words out rather than speak” to get an idea.

So, skype or call if I need to answer. I can read, though.

Will be back when things calm down or the Dragon starts working again.

Five Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me [en]

[fr] Cinq choses que vous ne saviez probablement pas à mon sujet. Un petit jeu qui tourne dans la blogosphère.

This is way overdue, but I have a guilty conscience after having been tagged by Jonas, Ric, and Dannie. I think the main reason I haven’t yet published this post (well, I have now, but look at the dates I was tagged upon and you’ll understand) is the difficulty in figuring out how I can tell a very varied audience (which includes family, strangers, IRC buddies, close friends online and off, googlers, passing acquaintances, work relations and all the others) things that “they” probably don’t know about me.

So. I’ve had to conjure up a target audience. Let’s say the target audience are people, online or off, who know me somewhat but not that well and have maybe not known me for many many years. My close friends and family will probably know the five things I’m bringing up here, and none of them are “secrets”. Some of these facts are even already “out there” if you care to look for them.

That said, here goes.

  1. I have a 21cm-long scar. I got it for my sixth birthday, and it beats all the other birthday presents I ever got. (Came with a price, though.)

  2. My middle name is Jane. I like having a middle name, and I quite like the one that was chosen for me. This hasn’t always been the case.

  3. My mother died of cancer when I was 10. It was only about fifteen years later that I managed to ask my dad which type of cancer she had, and details about her illness.

  4. I usually start writing my posts at the beginning, work straight down, tag and categorize, and hit publish. I rarely proof-read or re-read.

  5. My “pre-bunny” nickname was Gummywabbit. People kept thinking I was a guy, and I got sick of it.

What I chose to list here obviously says a sixth thing about me: I have a tendancy to get caught up in extremes. Too dramatic or too futile, too much or nothing at all. I work hard towards exploring the middle ground, but as you can see, I’m not always successful. Lucky you anyway, you got sixth things for the price of five!

I’m not tagging anyone myself (peer-pressure etc), but I’ll be happy to tag the first five people who ask me in the comments. And anyway, anybody is free to take up the meme and post their one — aren’t they?

Week-end chanson française [fr]

[en] I'm singing this week-end with Café-Café (we're about 70 singers) in Montreux (Friday), Chézard (Saturday) and Romont (Sunday). Come and listen to us!

Petit rappel: c’est ce week-end que vous avez le choix entre venir écouter chanter Café-Café (et donc moi) à Montreux (demain soir, vendredi), Chézard (samedi) ou Romont (dimanche). Dur de choisir!

Pour les geeks, j’ai mis le concert de Montreux à l’Auditorium Stravinsky sur upcoming.org.