Stephanie Booth's online ramblings
A bird has been hidden in this picture. Can you find it?
[Raph, je sais pas où tu les trouves!]
Anita suggests a caption contest. So here we go!
So you want the whole story about this AntiBloggie award, huh? How much are you willing to pay?
I’ll give you a hint, though: take a look at the prize.
Now, who wouldn’t love to have a t-shirt with naked Karl posing on it, front and back? Well, what do you think? Would you have hesitated?
Obviously, you all did — that’s why I‘m the one who won the t-shirt (and the *hrmm* honours). I won’t tell you what it cost me in bribery, though. Ask Dave if you really want that part of the story.
[Actually, you don’t want to know that part. No, Grandma. You really don’t.]
Oh and of course, the most important. There never was any CafePress gear on this site. *Scandal, scandal!*
Et pas n’importe laquelle: la mienne. Deux carnets, trésor retrouvé au fond d’une boîte bleue en métal, mémoire d’un passé sinon oublié.
Wil did get an obscene amount of Bloggies, though. Oh, and for the record, I only discovered he was an offline celebrity two days ago. Yeah, I know. No culture whatsoever. I did watch TNG, though – all the way from India.
I’m aware you’re all here looking for the CafePress gear. Actually, it sucked so badly I had to take it offline. Honest. (No, don’t you go and peek in the Google cache to check.)
I’ll comment on this extreme honour tomorrow, once I’ve finished dealing with all the fan email I received. Well yes, what did you think? (Thanks for the mail, Meryl, by the way!)
Websites (otherwise interesting!) which offer no means of getting in touch with their author.
Just in case you were wondering what my final philosophy exam was about: Ricœur and Changeux: What Makes Us Think?
Les vacances s’étiraient interminablement devant et derrière elle. Une grande plaine de vide, morne et grise.
Elle avait épuisé les activités qu’elle pouvait mener d’elle-même. Elle avait ralenti et n’attendait plus que la rentrée, là , dans plusieurs semaines.
Tout serait simple. On lui dirait quoi faire, elle le ferait, on serait content d’elle, elle serait heureuse en retour. C’est important de faire pour quelqu’un.
Sans le regard des autres, d’ailleurs, elle n’existait pas vraiment. C’est pour cela qu’elle n’aimait pas l’été. Trop long, trop vide, plus personne ne la regardait.
Il y a la fuite. Et il y a la fuite de la fuite.
C’est cette dernière qui empêche la fuite d’être productive.
C’est une trouée dans le ciel
D’où coule le soleil
La pluie est rentrée
Papillon, envole-toi.
At many points in my procrastinator’s life, I’ve had an inkling this was the way to go.
All procrastinators put off things they have to do. Structured procrastination is the art of making this bad trait work for you. The key idea is that procrastinating does not mean doing absolutely nothing. […] The procrastinator can be motivated to do difficult, timely and important tasks, as long as these tasks are a way of not doing something more important.
John Perry, Structured Procrastination.
Look at what I’m doing now: I have exams to prepare, laundry to do, piles of books to read, a website to update. And I’m writing for my weblog. Writing for my weblog is definitely not a high-priority task. But on the other hand, over the past year or so, I’ve started to gain a reputation for being an active weblogger, worth reading by some.
Now, this doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop fighting my procrastination. Actually, one of the reasons I’ve been “going the wrong way” lately (ie. refusing commitments) is very precisely because I’m trying to get to the root of my procrastination. I’m inching nearer each day, actually. But on the other hand, when I’m deep in it, I might as well do something useful, mightn’t I?
[link from Glenn, again!]