Escape Writing

Quote of the day

2005-11-17T20:48:00.000+03:00

It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.
Oscar Wilde

Messy France

2005-11-15T15:09:00.000+03:00

While looking at different newspapers from different countries today, I noticed one thing : people over the world seem to think France is at war or something. Well, let me tell you, it's not that bad; I mean, yeah, cars burn, that's not good. But seriously, in real riots, there are deaths every day, and you count them more by dozens than one by one. In real war, the military is involved. In real emergency context, women are afraid to get out because they might get raped.
I'm not afraid. I haven't seen anymore soldiers than before. I'm very much alive, thank you. There are indeed things shocking, but it's not necessarely what you see. What is shocking is some of our politicians are all surprised about this, and pretty much saying "Why are all those immigrants mad at us after all we've done for them?" The thing is, they don't want to admit they have done nothing for those people, and that's what they're mad today. Jacques Chirac, ten years ago, went on campaign to become president, and was elected because he promised to solve the problem of the huge gap between social classes. He has done nothing, and today, all he can do is say how lucky we all are to live in such a wonderful country. Wonderful, my ass. The percentage of unemployed immigrants is a lot higher than of nice white people.
I don't really know how this is all going to end, but I'm pretty sure that when things calm down, our politicians will forget all about the current problem, and go back to helping the poor rich families, and give them another tax cut.
Thanks for reading.

Quote of the day
I have come to the conclusion that politics are too serious a matter to be left to politicians.
Charles de Gaulle

Procrastinating

2005-11-14T19:58:00.000+03:00

Did you ever wonder why it's in the moments you have the most time that you do the less? I have just spent a three day week-end (yeah, because Novembre 11th is free in France, to celebrate how Europe managed to kill a few million people in just four years) doing absolutely nothing. It's not like I don't have anything to do :
1) I have to study in general, in order to get better grades and be a little higher in my class.
2) I have to learn my part for the theater show in two weeks (yeah, two weeks, that's awfully close).
3) I have to write my book, so I can become rich anf famous, and so people might be interested in reading this blog.
4) I have to tidy up my room (did I ever mention I'm possibly the messiest person to ever walk on this planet?)
And what did I do all week-end? I read (a lot, more about that later), I went shopping with my flatmate and my sister, I called my friends, I slept, I watched TV, and especially E.R. (Carter is gone for good! I can't believe it!). All in all, my mother would say I've been a very bad girl.
Well, that just means the coming two weeks are going to be hell. And I do mean hell. As in totally not heaven. I have so much to do and so little time. I guess that's just what happens when you grow up. We I was younger, I felt bored most of the time. Now I'm hoping I have time to be bored.
Now, onto books. I read Uptown Girl by Olivia Goldsmith. You just have to read it. At least, you do if you're a girl. If you're a bioy, it might just bore you. If you're not into romance, i have nothing to recomand for you, so you might want to move on to the next paragraph. It's the story of a thirty year old woman looking for Mr Right and only seems to find Mr Wrong (surprise, surprise!). Not to screwed up the end for you, but this one more heir to the wonderful Pride and Prejudice, so you can guess yourself who she ends up with. What I love with those books is that you know exactly how they'ere going to end. I understand that to most people, that's a reason not to enjoy them, but hey! I like them.
On other matters, I think I just understood why nobody visits my blog. It's written up there my blog ID is number 15 799 843. That means there are at least fifteen million seven hundred and ninety nine thousand eight hundred and forty three other blogs out there for people to choose from. And that's only blogger. Then, there's live journal and all the other blogging ressources out there. No wonder people don't care. The one comforting thing is that since nobody reads this, I can go really crazy. I mean, it's not like anyone cares.
On this particularly happy note, I'll let you get on with your lives.

Quote of the day
I envy people who drink. At least they have something to blame everything on.
Oscar Levant

Quote of the day

2005-11-10T16:48:00.000+03:00

The only thing to do with good advice is to pass it on. It is never any use to oneself.
Oscar Wilde

Birthadya Girl... Not Anymore

2005-11-08T15:35:00.000+03:00

I turned 20 last Saturday, and amazingly, I felt absolutely nothing. My birthdays are usually very important for me, it's the time of the year I look forward to three months in advance. I used to bring candies at school and give them to everyone wishing me a happy birthday. Well, for a start, I wasn't in school for my birthday this year, and also, I totally wasn't looking forward to it. It's weird, though not so bad, since it wasn't that fun at all in the end.
The best present is the one I bought myself. I got a brand new laptop computer, it's really awesome. One problem though is that I still don't have internet in my flat, so I'm really not getting far. I can put my lessons on it, though, which forces me to study a bit more than I did last year.
My mother got me a cooking book for students, with cheap recipes that you can do without an oven and a thousand special ingrdients that nobody in college can afford.
My father helped me in buying the computer, and my siblings got me nice jewlery.
The big surprise for my birthday is that my grand parents came (well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but I totally expected it.) It was nice to see them, but they stayed with me for three days, and in the end, it got very annoying. They're very much your typical grand parents, thinking you're still five years old, and I wanted to yell all along "Hello? You're here to celebrate my 20th birthday!" Seriously. How can they think I still enjoy them affectionally pinching my cheek? In what kind of world do grand parents live?
Plus, my grand father was being really annoying about computers. I explained him how gerat it is to have internet, and be able to communicate very fast with people one the other side of the world, and all he could answer is that 50 years ago, they were fine without computers. Hello? Fifty years ago, people died in hospital! How is that good? Plus, if in fifty years' time, they tell me I can do things I couldn't when I was 20, I'm in! For example, if, say, we can go on vacation on the moon, why would you refuse on the simple reason that you couldn't fifty years ago and were fine? That's just very stupid if you ask me.
Whatever. I'm rambling.
On another topic (which is actually the one this blog is supposed to be about), now that I have a computer, I can write all the time! Which means I might actually put another short story up soon (if I find something interesting to write about, that is).
Enough rambling for today, I've got to go in class.

Quote of the day :

Where a calculator on the ENIAC is equipped with 18,000 vacuum tubes and weighs 30 tons, computers in the future may have only 1,000 vaccuum tubes and perhaps weigh 1.5 tons.
Unknown, Popular Mechanics, March 1949

Quote of the day

2005-11-02T14:06:00.000+03:00

This is one of my favorite quotes. If only everybody could live by it, the world would be a way less stressful place.

If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain.
Maya Angelou

Quote of the day

2005-10-30T19:46:00.000+03:00

My definition of an expert in any field is a person who knows enough about what's really going on to be scared.
J. Plauger

Quote of the day

2005-10-29T16:06:00.000+03:00

Before a war military science seems a real science, like astronomy; but after a war it seems more like astrology.
Rebecca West

Quote of the day

2005-10-26T18:39:00.000+03:00

Drama is life with the dull bits cut out.
Alfred Hitchcock

Birthday Girl

2005-10-25T13:15:00.001+03:00

My birthday is coming up awfully fast. I'll turn 20 on Novembre 5th, and that shall be the most depressing birthday ever.
Reasons why it will be depressing :
- that will be my first birthday with my parents divorced. Birthdays used to be a family reunion. They're totally not anymore.
- I'm usually looking forward to my birthdays. This year, I don't even care.
- My parenst are getting divorced, and are still insisting that we celebrate it as a family. We're not a family anymore. Tensions will very much arise.
- I am overloaded with work, and therefore will not even be able to onjoy the fact that it's my birthday.
- Did I mention that I'm depressed because my parents are getting divorced?

As for the good things, my father did mention that I'd be getting more presents this year, since there won't be a general present from my parennts. I guess that's good news. Not.

I am also the crappiest friend on the planet, since I don't answer to half my friends' text messages.

I have way too much work for a girl who isn't even working.

And, what annoys me most, I don't have time to write the novel which is supposed to make me very rich and world famous.

As you can guess, I'm not in a very good mood in general. Neither is my roomate, which means I get about no relief.

Due to popular demand (not), here is the quote of the day :

Hapiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.
George Burns

Crazyness

2005-10-20T16:11:00.000+03:00

My life has been absolutely insane for the past month. From vacation time, during which I had pretty much nothing to do, to college life, which is, I heard, the busiest time of your life, transition is very hard.
First of all, I'm having big problems with my new apartment. You might not be aware, but in France, you're pretty much left on your own to get a place to live in when you're a college student. It's extremely hard to get a room in a dorm, which means that when you don't have much money, or when you encounter personal problems (like I am right now), you end up living far away in a crappy apartment. For instance, as of two days ago, my window was broken. This is illegal, of course, and the owner was supposed to change it. He had been saying for three months that he would do it, but we pretty much understood (we meaning me and my flatmate Lola) that he never would, so we ended up doing it ourselves. Ditto for the phone, which we are going to take care of ourselves. That takes a lot of time.
Then, college life is killing me (though not as much as it is killing Lola, who is getting nearer every day to a nervous breakdown). I have meetings all the time, or have some photocopies to make (that's because I'm communication secretary for my school's Office of arts).
Finally, there is this tiny little thing college is supposed to be about in the first place : work. I had not noticed till this week that I was supposed to be working, since most of my classes hadn't started yet. You can imagine my pain now, if you are (or have been) a college student. I also have to get ready for next year (yes, I know, already), which is supposed to be my year abroad. I want to spend it in Italy, which is very much possible, but I also want to do an Internship in an embassy or consulate the summer before, which is very much less possible. Whatever. I'm sure it only takes believing in it. Or not.

On others matters, I just finished reading Ready or Not by Meg Cabot, and I have to say I loved it. It's nice to have a book that de-dramatizes sex a bit. Just a bit, though, since Sam freaks out during most of the book.
I also read Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen, which kind of disappointed me. However, it's true that when you start reading Pride and Predjudice, and then read her other books, Jane Austen can only disappoint you, P&P being one of the best books on the planet.
I read many other books this past month, but it would take too long to write about them all. I did read The Hitchhiker's guide to Galaxy, but will only comment on it when I've read the four other books of the trilogy.

Thank you for reading about my immensly interesting life. I'm deeply sorry about the crappy writing, but college is taking my brain away, and I can't think of funny catch lines.

Juliette

Sorry...

2005-09-27T19:43:00.000+03:00

I'm deeply sorry for not updating this blog. My computer at home went completely down, and then I had to move to college. Since I don't have a computer in my room, I have to use the university's, and there a permanent fight between students to get access. You have to stay pretty late in order to use a computer without having other students look at you like you're completely wasting their time.
That problem will last as long as I don't have a computer and Internet in my room, which is probably a long time... Wait and see.
I just want you to know I am not giving up this blog.

Boring Life

2005-09-15T23:20:00.000+03:00

I spent half my day yesterday and today in the train. I will again tomorrow, the day after, and then on Monday. I haven't been so busy since I'm on vacation. My summer job ended, and I thought I would get some well deserved rest, but I just don't.

Anyway, being on the train all the time, I don't have time to check out the Internet, or write, since I don't own a laptop. My life therefore gets pretty boring, and the best part of my day today was getting a question I asked answered by Meg Cabot on her "Ask Meg" forums. She is one of my favorite authors, but still, that is pretty pathetic.

So, before I bore any of you to death, here is the quote of the day :

The saying "Getting there is half the fun" became obsolete with the advent of commercial airlines.
Henry J. Tillman

We could say the same about trains. Except trains don't have this tendency to crash in the middle of the ocean.

Bad Day

2005-09-13T20:35:00.000+03:00

You know those days when, for no specific reason, you're feeling bad, tired tec? I'm having one of those days. No comment.
On a side note, I won't post for the ext two days, due to visiting my grandparents, who don't own a computer, so no Internet for me.

Quote of the day

2005-09-13T20:33:00.000+03:00

The scientific name for an animal that doesn't either run from or fight its enemies is lunch.
Michael Friedman

The Meatrix Again

2005-09-13T11:09:00.000+03:00

I sent the link to the Meatrix to many of my friends, inlcuding one whose father is a vet. She asked her father about more details, and here is what he had to say :

Becky,

They sure present it as everyone who eats meat, are really bad, stupid people. It isn't that simple.

Do you remember when we had chickens and biggest roosters would keep the rest of the hens and smaller roosters from eating and they would peck at each other? That is the way nature is. Our chickens were not overcrowded nor raised in bad conditions. But in an intensive raising facility they would have been debeaked them as day old chicks, so they wouldn't be able to peck at each other. Cannibals are what they are! The dominant male wants to control the group and reserve all breeding rights.

Yes, chickens and pigs are raised in small pens, which keep them fromhurting each other. Ventilation is good, or they will get pneumonia and die and that isn't profitable. Happiness is measured by rate of gain and production of eggs. If animals aren't healthy or content, they don't have the best production.

Antibiotics are fed to dairy cattle today for a specific reason. We recommend one called monesin. It is an ionophore (antibiotic) that isn't absorbed thru the stomach or intestine. But in a ruminate, it changes the bacteria populations that digest the forages in the ration in the rumen. It will inhibit some bacteria and encourage others, so the cow will have more 3-carbon structures available to absorb thru the rumen wall, which is healthier for the liver and the cow and encourages more milk. It also inhibits a endemic parasite that causes diarrhea called coccidia. Approved in the US for use, only after decades of studies to prove safety and efficacy. It is interesting to note that imported food products, have few or no rules as to products used in production. While this product was studied here, it was used internationally.

Free range animals as left to the forces of nature, won't produce enough protein to feed the world. Success in western culture has come because of the successes of American agriculture. We only spend 11 cents of the dollar on food, so we have lots of cash left for everything else.

I don't know of any factory farms, all of the farms locally are owned by families. They all have a human element.

Enough rambling?

I know nothing about this whole subject. I linked to the Meatrix, because it is, wether truth or lies, a really well done movie.

I know my friend Becky's Dad, and he's totally not a liar, and doesn't support any huge factory. He lives in southern Wisconsin, and belive, there are indeed not factory farms out there (or if there are, they're well hidden, since I have yet to see one, and I was there just a couple month ago).

So there. I'm not saying the Meatrix is telling lies, more like not the entire truth. As usual, the world is not entirely black and white, there are lots of shades of grey.

PS : and before you ask, I have no idea what the part with the ionophore was about. I gave up science class over a year ago, and I'm proud to say I managed to forget all I learned in that space of time.

Bad choices

2005-09-12T16:57:00.000+03:00

This is what happens when politicians want to put their friends in high positions : they get caught when a bad disaster strikes.

You've got to love the NYTimes columnists. My favorite is Maureen Dowd, but you would have figured that out by the number of times I have linked (and will do it again) to one of her columns, but then I do that because I'm just as liberal as she is.

I don't really know what newspapers are more conservative. Could anybody tell me so I can try not to be so biaised?

Peaceful Dawn

2005-09-12T16:40:00.000+03:00

This is a piece of Harry Potter fanfiction I wrote a few weeks ago. I thought any Harry Potter fans out there might enjoy it.

Disclaimer : Harry Potter and co. all belong to JK Rowling. I'm not making any money out of this story.

It wasn’t at all what he had imagined. He thought that after the victory, he would feel terrible about killing someone. He thought the Order would be counting its dead, and that there would be no rejoicing, just more funerals. He had been wondering how many of his friends he would bring to the grave. This wasn’t it at all.
The morning was peaceful. Just last night, he had found Nagini. She had been fourth on his list of Horcruxes to destroy before going after Voldemort. He hadn’t expected Voldemort to go after him right after finding his pet snake dead.
What Voldemort hadn’t counted on was that Harry had destroyed four other Horcruxes already, and that by that time, he was mortal again.
Voldemort had cornered Harry right when he arrived in Godric’s Hollow, where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. Harry was exhausted and in no state to fight. He had thought he was over and done with, when Ron had managed to come behind Voldemort and kill him, just as dawn came. Voldemort had died as the day began, by the hand of Ron Weasley. It made sense to Harry, now. The prophecy was just that, a prophecy. It wasn’t the future, it was what people made of it. Harry had, in one sense, killed Voldemort by going after and destroying five Horcruxes. The final touch had been Ron’s.
Harry knew that the war wasn’t over yet, there were still too many Death Eaters at large, but he felt at rest when Hermione approached Voldemort’s body and confirmed that he was dead. Their part was over. The ministry could deal with the others.
Harry had one thing in mind, as the sun rose. There was one person he wanted to find.

***

Ginny Weasley was watching the sun rising. She had to get to work soon. Some people might think that working for her brothers would mean less hard work, but they obviously did not know Fred and George Weasley.
They had hired her when she told them she was bored beyond sanity at the Burrow. Hogwarts hadn’t re-opened for her sixth year, and since she was the only Weasley still underage, she was spending her days with her mother. There was only so much cleaning that could be done in a house inhabited by two people, which meant that Ginny spent her days with nothing to do.
The twins needed to hire someone. Their business being one of the few in the Wizarding world to extend in those times of darkness, extra help was very welcome. That was how Ginny had found herself working in Diagon Alley every morning for the past few months.
She had expected it to be more interesting. Working in a joke shop seemed like fun, but she discovered an entire new side of the twins, the one with which they had made Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes so successful. They were business driven, and made her work hard.
Ginny didn’t mind, though. It took her mind off things. She could stop wondering where Ron, Hermione and Harry were off to, for a few hours.
They had stopped a couple times at the shop, to get stuff she had no idea what they used for. It didn’t look at first as if Puking Pastilles would be of any use to kill Voldemort, but they seemed to think it did.
Those visits always overjoyed her. The Trio rarely came to the Burrow, it looked like they spent most of their time in Godric’s Hollow, or went off to places known only by them.
The first time they came, Harry had somehow managed to get Ginny alone and had kissed her senseless. He hadn’t talked to her after that, just smiled and left. She had spent the next month wondering whether it had really happened, when he came back and did the same thing all over again. Each of the Trio’s visits would finish with a wonderful snogfest.
She never really knew if she was angry at Harry or elated after those few minutes spent together. She just found herself waiting more and more for the next visit, when they would come back from wherever they had gone.
Ginny had been wondering exactly what they were doing, since they were supposed to be trying to kill Voldemort, but Tom Riddle seemed very much alive. She wanted the war to be over just like the next person, but even more because so many people she loved were deeply involved.
The sun was completely up. The sky had lost its pink, and there wasn’t a cloud to see for miles. The air was pure, and she could see the next town from her bed.
She moved away from the window to get dressed, and then get to work. There was something peaceful about that morning, and she was eager to get going.

***

Harry Potter arrived in Diagon Alley two hours after Voldemort’s death. The street was gloomy. Half the shops were closed. Harry felt shivers walking by Florean Fortescue’s, remembering the summer before third year, and all the free ice creams he got. He hoped that wherever Florean was now, he was happy that the war that had cost him his life was over.
People were walking fast, not yet knowing that there was much less to be afraid of. Hermione had sent a report only to the Ministry to announce the death, and where to find the body. They needed the Wizarding community to learn the good news as fast as possible, and they knew the Ministry would announce it faster than you could say Quidditch. Scrimgeour would take good news any day. The Minister wasn’t exactly popular at the moment.
Hermione and Ron had taken off for some alone time right after that. They needed to talk a lot, and hopefully, Harry thought, do more than that. Ron was shaken from killing someone, but had no regrets whatsoever.
The joke shop had just opened. Harry first noticed Ginny when he saw her red hair clashing with the purple and green window. He had been dreaming of that moment for months, the moment he would tell her it was all over.
She had been so mad when Hogwarts had closed before she could even sit for her O.W.L.s. She had been pretty angry when Harry, Ron and Hermione took off after Fleur and Bill’s wedding. However, no matter how mad she was, – and deserved to be – she hadn’t minded when he told her, in more actions than words, that she was still the one he was thinking about when he went to sleep at night.
Harry opened the locked door with his wand. Without turning around, Ginny said, “We’re not open yet. Please come back in ten minutes.”
Harry didn’t answer at first, waiting for her to move from her task. When she didn’t, he looked closer, and saw her tense up and slowly move her hand towards her wand. Idiot, he thought. She thinks I’m a Death Eater.
“Ginny,” he said simply, to calm her down.
She turned around suddenly. She took her time taking in his appearance. He still had some blood from Nagini on his cloak, his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and he had dirt on his face from the moment Voldemort had cornered him. She smirked.
“Well, someone looks like shit.”
The sound of her voice was all it took. In a few strides, he covered the distance that separated them and kissed her.
It was very much like their first kiss, unexpected, but so much awaited. They kissed as if their lives depended on it, until they were rudely interrupted by George.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
He had a huge smirk on his face that made it impossible to know whether he was thinking of endless teasing or simply just happy for them.
“Are you celebrating something?” Fred asked, joining his twin’s side.
“No,” Ginny answered, just as Harry said “Yes.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“Voldemort is dead,” he answered. “It’s all over.”
Fred, George and Ginny stayed quiet for a minute pondering this news. Harry watched them going form disbelief to realisation. Then, Ginny said, “You’re wrong, Harry. It’s not over.”
It was his turn to look at her quizzically.
“It’s only the beginning.”

Thank you to PythonBlossom for beta-ing!

Quote of the day

2005-09-12T16:26:00.000+03:00

If you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time.
JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

9/11

2005-09-11T19:12:00.000+03:00

I know I've linked to this blog before, but you really should check out today's entry. It's very sad, but represents excactly what happened four years ago.

I suppose everyone remeber where they were four yuears ago, and what they were doing.

I was at school when it happened, but I only found out about it when I came back home. My sister called and said "There was a terrorist attack in New York and Washington". Due to time changes, this was in the afternoon for me. I spent the rest of the day watching TV, not quite believing what I was seeing. I cried. I was thinking of all the people who had died, not having a clue why they died. I was shaking. I called my friend Stéphanie, and we spent half an hour wondering who could have done something so horrible.

Some idiots said that America deserved it, the same idiots who are saying the US doesn't deserve our help with Katrina today. That's all they are. Idiots. I may disagree with how the war on terror is lead, but I certainly don't disagree that we need a war on terror. The people who organized this need to face trial. Everyone who died that day, the one who died in the falling of the building, the ones who burned to death, the ones who jumped through the windows to escape the heat, the ones who went in there to help and were rewarded by dying, they deserve justice.

This is sad entry, but I needed to make it clear. When countries like France don't go on war with the US, it's not because we disagree on war on terror, it's because we disagree on how it's done. We've had terrorist attcks. We know what it is to be afraid to leave your home. We're on your side, believe me.

I love America...

2005-09-11T14:52:00.000+03:00

... and it seems that despite websites such as the ones I linked to in the post"Getting Worried", America kind of likes us too. This is most likely politics, but it makes my heart a lot of good, after reading what French haters had to say about us.
It goes to show the diplomacy is not overrated.

The meatrix

2005-09-11T14:36:00.000+03:00

Do you want to know what it is?

Quote of the day

2005-09-11T01:41:00.000+03:00

Here is one of my all times favorite...

There is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
Douglas Adams

Life with Lucy

2005-09-10T22:43:00.000+03:00

As promised, this is the preview to the sotry that I just thought of. It's translated from French, and I suck very much at translation, so please forgive anything that might not make sense...
The title for this story should be Life With Lucy, though right now, it won't make much sense.

I got the phone call in the middle of the night. I was to go to St John hospital right away. A stupid accident. Liliane was coming back from her first date with Martin, and the other guy was drunk. he had deviated, and came crashing into Liliane's car.
When I arrived in the hospital, Liliane was in an artificial coma, and the other guy was hungover. The police was waiting for him outside the room, but that didn't lessen the fact that Liliane was in danger of death, and he was very much alive.
I wasn't allowed to see her, she was in intensive care. They had only called me to sign papers, since they couldn't find Liliane's relatives. they asked me if I knew where they were, and I said they were dead. Or at least, they were to Liliane. I had never met her parents, but Liliane didn't seem to think I was missing much.
The doctors decided I was the closest person to the patient (they never stopped calling her "the patient" and I want to scream "Her name is Liliane!"), and therefore, I was to sign all the papers. I seriously dopubted that was legal, but I didn't really care since I thought I really was the closest person to her emotionally, if not for the law.

Quote of the day

2005-09-10T22:17:00.000+03:00

I hate television. I hate it as much as I hate peanuts. But I can't stop eating peanuts.
Orson Welles

Getting worried

2005-09-10T00:28:00.000+03:00

When I see things like this (warning : you might not want to spend more than a minute there, and if you're under 13, just don't even go) I get seriously worried for the human gender. This is one of the most racist websites I ever saw, and god knows I've spent a lot of time on Internet.
Seriously. I get shivers. That sort of things doesn't make me feel any better.
Some people really need help. And I mean, really. Could someone please tell me they disagree, so I might get some more hope for humanity? Please? I'm begging here...

Hoping

2005-09-10T00:10:00.000+03:00

Now that Outercast has updated its website with the new authors (that includes me! I'm an actual author *does a little dance in front of her computer*), I'm kind of hoping more people will link to my blog. Not that I'm not happy to have already one person coming more than once... (Thanks Ali!)

I stop workiing tomorrow, and then I will be doing some sort of a marathon. I want to go visit my godmother, then my grandparents, then I have to move back to college. That will make me go in all four corners of the country... I can't believe school starts again in two weeks time! (but then, most people have already started again, so I guess I should consider myself lucky. I just don't).

Also, I realize this blog has started to be more my ramblings than anything else. That shouldn't last. I've just had a great idea for a story, and might give you a bit of a preview. However, this is a story I'm planning on writing in French, so if you can't read French... that's just too bad for you.

Sanity again

2005-09-09T23:59:00.000+03:00

This is the edited version of "Sanity" which will be published in the Autumn issue of Outercast. Link is on your right.
I have to say, I'm pretty proud of it.

Up until I met Ethan Lint, I believed in sanity. I was the one teaching people normalcy. I loved my job. I thought I was always doing the right thing. I, Liza Dalrymple, had achieved my goal in life to be the normal one.
My entire childhood had been spent with kids laughing at me because they thought I wasn’t normal. They called me Dalpimple because I had a bit too much of acne. I was the freak at school. I didn’t care, though. They could throw as many snowballs they wanted at me, as long as I knew deep down that I was the normal one. I knew I was sane, and they were just idiots.
After a hard day at school, I would come home and study. I was a geek, and proud of it. I kept thinking “I’ll show them in the end”. Show what, I didn’t exactly know. I just knew that some day, I would be the one deciding what was cool and what wasn’t. In school it was the main thing that bullied kids hoped for and clung to.
My neighbour was a doctor, and I loved to see her. When I reached the legal age, I started to work as a secretary for her, and I knew then I wanted to be a doctor.
I went to college, and was easily admitted in medical school. When I got top grades, I was comforted in my belief that I was the smart, normal one, and the others were idiots. When I chose psychiatry, I thought I did because it was so interesting, but looking back, I know it was only because it made me feel normal. I fringed upon insanity. Whenever someone in trial was cleared of charges for insanity, I thought the judicial system was rotten.
My views changed, but not too much, when I started my internship at a psychiatric ward. The first patient I treated thought he was a duck. If that was all of it, it would have been all right, but the man had tried to strangle his neighbour because she had attempted to convince him that he was, indeed, human. They had to lock him up. Couldn’t exactly put a man who thought he was a duck in jail, but they couldn’t either let a duck who tried to strangle his neighbour walk free.
There were many others like that, whose mind was in another place. I think I will always remember this girl, who had, at age six, killed her mother. After too many scary bedtime stories, she was sure that her mother wanted to kill her. It was, as she saw it, self-defence.
As a medical student, I was proud of myself in being reasonable, and at times, when I had drunk a bit too much, I would tell my friends those stories like fun jokes, despite the medical secrecy I was supposed to uphold.
All those mentally sick people around me, living outside the regular world, they made me feel sane. It was such a good feeling.
When I started working as a fully trained doctor, I felt so special. I had an office with “Liza Dalrymple” written in big bold letters on the door. I was the one saying what normalcy was. It wasn’t anything conceited, like “I know what’s right and wrong, you don’t”, but I was pretty sure that when I told someone that there wasn’t an elephant in his room trying to squash him, I was in my right mind.
It was hard, though, at times, to see some of my patients crying at night, because they thought they saw someone hiding behind the chair in their room. Trying to comfort kids at two in the morning who didn’t understand why their mommy and daddy weren’t sitting next to them, when their parents had in fact been killed in a shooting. I witnessed things that were not pretty. It made me enjoy my normal life even more. That, however, stopped when I met Ethan Lint.
Ethan’s boss had brought him to our attention one day, saying his employee said he communicated with Martians every night. His boss, a nice guy, didn’t mind this little bit of insanity, and had just asked for advice on what to do when Ethan randomly stopped taking care of customers when he had some urgent business to attend to with his extra terrestrial friends.
It wasn’t enough yet to make him a permanent resident of our ward. I just went to talk with him every few days, and soon enough, he started telling me about his alien friends. They seemed nice and harmless enough.
The patriarch, Robert ― who had surprisingly a human name, like the others ― was very wise, but liked to crack a joke from time to time. One day, he had tricked Janice, his niece, into believing they were going to leave Earth to visit Jupiter. It was that day, when Janice burst into tears that she liked Earth too much, that they had found out that she was in love with Ethan. Ethan had then confessed his love back, and they had been living a happy love story ever since. The only one to frown upon this relationship was James, Janice’s brother. He was convinced that his best friend, who was still living on Mars, should have been her love. Even though his best friend, Ethan had told me with a smirk, was already married. Ethan didn’t like James.
I agreed with Ethan’s boss; this bit of insanity was harmless enough, and though Ethan would be better of sane, there was no urgent need to cure him. I managed to convince him that his friends didn’t really want him to stop working at random just to spend time with them. His boss was happy with me, and since Ethan didn’t look like a threat to himself or anybody else, I left it at that.
I regretted it deeply when one day, Ethan was admitted in my hospital’s ER. He had jumped through his window. When I first came to see him, he was unconscious. Once a handsome young man, Ethan was now covered with bruises. His nose was broken and swollen, and so were both his legs. His head had been shaved in order to let the cuts on his skull heal.
When I came back a few days later, he was conscious again. I had dreaded this moment, because I had to find out why he had tried to commit suicide, and then take the decision whether he should be locked up in the psychiatric ward. It was, as you can imagine, a hard decision to take.
When I asked him why he had jumped through the window, his answer was the kind I had feared. He told me that James had caught Janice and himself in a compromising position, and since he couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour, they had left for Jupiter. To him, it was a perfect reason to die. To me, it was a perfect reason to make him a resident of my ward.
At first, Ethan thought my ward was just a special place for people whose heart had been broken. He thought my job was to mend it. Slowly enough, he understood that he could leave not when his heart would be mended, but when his mind would be put back in place.
I never forgot the day he fully realised that. He was in my office, talking about Janice, and he suddenly stopped speaking. I asked him what was wrong, and he looked at me straight in the eyes and said, “You think I’m insane, don’t you? You think Janice doesn’t exist and my heart isn’t really broken?”
I had a principle: I never lied to my patients, only tried to avoid the cold hard truth. However, there was no way I could avoid it that day. I looked back in his eyes, and said, “Ethan, nobody has ever met Robert, Janice or James before. It is hard for us to believe you. I, for one, do not believe that Janice exists. However, as long as you think she exists, I will listen to you.”
“And what happens the day I don’t believe she exists any-more?”, he asked.
“That day, you will be able to leave the ward.”
Ethan left my office ponderingly. He came back the next day, and told me that maybe Robert, Janice and James had been a fragment of his imagination and that he didn’t believe they existed anymore. Once again, I told him the truth. It was obvious enough that he had said that just to get out.
He reminded me of the old joke of a psychiatric patient who thought his toothbrush was a dog. He kept dragging it around on a leash. One day, he goes see the psychiatrist and says “Don’t you think my toothbrush is pretty?”
The doctor answers “You don’t think it’s a dog anymore?”
“Well, no, doctor, it’s quite obvious a toothbrush.”
“All right,” the doctor answers, “You’re fit to leave then!”
When the man reaches the exit, he takes his toothbrush out of his pocket and whispers, “We got him, Rex!”
Ethan spent the next two weeks trying to convince me that his Martian friends didn’t exist. I was sceptical at first, but then noticed that he was getting more sullen every day. That was usually a sign that the patient came back to normalcy, and that they realised that they had been living in a dream for years. It was good to see them slip out of insanity, but also sad to watch them lose their years long daydream.
The day before Ethan left the ward, I found him in his room, crying. I sat beside him, and waited for him to talk. Recently, I had come to the conclusion that Ethan only talked when he was ready. Finally, he started.
“When I was a kid, in pre-school, everybody had a secret friend they talked to. I had one too. It was Janice. She always understood me. She was the coolest imaginary friend ever. She was from another planet. Janice understood me better than anyone. She was smart and pretty. And, then, I grew up, and I grew out of it.
“Then, just a few years ago, at a time when I was very lonely, she came back. She wasn’t alone, there was also Robert and James with her. I had three friends, then. At first, they were just in my mind, but they grew silently, and came in my life. I couldn’t live without them, do you understand, Doctor Dalrymple? They were the only ones who talked to me. Everybody thought I was a weirdo. I know now that they weren’t real, but they were so nice, that I made myself believe it. I loved them. They were all I had.”
That night, I signed Ethan Lint’s release papers.
When I came home, I felt completely crushed. I tried to make myself believe that I had done something right, that now Ethan wasn’t a danger to himself anymore. I tried to remember what he looked like when he first came in my ward, bruised and both legs broken from jumping through a window. He thought my job was to mend his heart. I just couldn’t get around the fact that I had broken it once more.
The next day, Ethan left the hospital. I decided to follow him for his first morning out, as I often did with my most difficult patients. Ethan wasn’t a difficult patient though, I was merely curious. He first went to see his former boss, probably to know if he could get his job back. He then wandered in the streets, stopping in his favourite shops. He kept smiling, looking around, like a child on his first visit to the zoo. He looked very much like an ex-convict just out of jail.
After a few hours, he went into a shop I had never noticed before; a hole in the wall that you can miss when you walk by. It was an astronomy shop. I heard him ask the shop attendant, “Would you have maps of Jupiter, by any chance?”
I smiled at myself and left him at that. Sometimes, I thought, sanity is way overrated.

I shouldn't talk (or write) too fast...

2005-09-09T22:19:00.000+03:00

There I am, just a few days ago writing about blogs that aren't updated, and not updating mine fro two days in a row... For my defence, my computer completely broke down, and I couldn't access Internet. I suppose that's a good enough excuse.
So, I've been living for the past two days without Internet. My conclusion : Internet is absolutely not overrated. You know thosr stories about families that re-discover what life is about when they are without electricity, and have fun and all? Well, they're not true. I was bored out of my mind without Internert. My entire life depends on Internet. I read, write, make friends, keep up on the news there. If it wasn't for Internet, nobody would read the stories I write.
So, therefore, here is my quote of the day...
I do not fear computers. I fear the lack of them.
Isaac Asimov

Thabks to Ali for officially being the first regular on my blog, since she commented twice!

Idiots

2005-09-06T21:56:00.000+03:00

My favorite website has started a drive for Katrina victims, to donate to the red croos in the name of all Harry Potter fans. This is good.
What bothers me is what an idiot wrote in the comments :
"They should be giving the money to Iraq war victims, not wasting it on these spoiled american brats." Not my words.
This is really annoying me (and I'm being extremely polite). There are kids, infants dying out there! How could anyone think they don't deserve help? How? This is totally not the time to try and find out which disaster was the worse. A disaster is a disaster, period.
As for the people who say that the Red Cross doesn't give out all the money they get... Yeah. You're right. The thing is, the victims and their families usually don't need all the money the Red Cross gets. During shocking disasters like 9/11 or the Tsunamis, people get very emotional and all want to give out money. When too much money is given, the Red Cross just uses it for other disasters, that we don't hear about so much, but also desperately need help.
As for the ones that say "Hey, you didn't start donating for the tsunamis, why are you doing it now?", well, do you want people never to donate because they didn't do it once? It's a good time to start.
So, there. Idiots. Again, as long as people are dying, it's not a time for polemics. Later, yeah, you can criticize all you want. Not now.

Writing Fix

2005-09-06T01:20:00.000+03:00

To anymore wrinting addicts like me, you can get your daily writing fix here.
That's where I find a lot of inspiration for my stories...

Quote of the day

2005-09-06T01:18:00.000+03:00

I'm still an atheist, Thank God.
Luis Bunuel

Forget what I wrote...

2005-09-05T20:29:00.000+03:00

Forget what I wrote before. Bush is guilty of all charges.

Blog Browsing

2005-09-05T16:36:00.000+03:00

As I browse through blogs, I start to realize that most of them have just been created, and I wonder if that is because only a few blogs do "stay alive" after a month or so.
I think keeping a blog is very much like keeping a journal, you have to set your mind on it. Most blogs that "stay alive" are either journalist blogs, or completely pointless blogs where people put pictures of their last vacations. That's why I thought this one was pretty amazing : it's old enough (a few months definitely can be considered as "old" for a blog), and funny enough, even if I have yet to find a point. However, there are things to read, each sentence has proper punctuation, grammar and spelling, which makes it rare enough. That's another one I'll have to check out from time to time.

A/N : and yes, I'm aware my blog is young and pointless, but I promise that will change sometime in the future.
A/N again : can you believe the spell checker doesn't know the word "blog"? I think that's ridiculous.

Katrina again

2005-09-05T14:46:00.000+03:00

OK folks, I know I said I didn't want to deal with Katrina anymore, since it was way too depressing, but when you read this and then this, you think some people really need to sort their priorities. First, you save people, then you try and find out whose fault it is.

Also, I think it's pretty easy to point the finger, but kind of useless. I'm totally not a Bush supporter, but come one, guys, this is a natural disaster! Most people living there didn't leave their houses because they thought it couldn't get that bad. How was Bush, far away from there, not knowing what it was like, supposed to know better? He got the same weather forecast than everybody else. I understand why some people didn't want to leave, seeing as home is so important. On the other hand, you can't blame someone for not evacuating people who don't want to leave in the first place.

That being said, I agree that some things went wrong. However, I will tell you my opinion when everybody is safe. Now is not the time.

Also, I wonder how Bush is doind, having to deal with Katrina and losing Rehnquist... I don't think he's getting much sleep right now.

Quote of the day

2005-09-05T13:17:00.000+03:00

It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.
Voltaire

Handicap international

2005-09-04T19:35:00.000+03:00

Handicap international is a association which aims at baning the use of mines, and making sure that anybody with a handicap has a chance to live as normaly as possible.

I am not telling you all this for no reason. An international agreement has been signed to ban mines by 75% of the countries on Earth. 75% unfortunately does not include the United States, China and Russia. As members of the UN security council, they are pretty good countries to hide behind for undemocratic countries who don't want to sign the agreement either. Why a country wouldn't want to ban those which make mainly non military-victims in beyond me.
HI has a petition you can sign on line to make countries sign the agreement. Unlike idiots petitioning to change a book (see previous posts), this is extremely important.

Also, HI is organizing a "Pyramid of Shoes" on October 8th. This is mainly why I'm posting here. This event is unfortunately organized in only a few countries (last time I checked, it was France, Luxemburg and Germany). However, these events are very important to raise awareness. I'm sure if you organize your own Pyramid of Shoes in your town, it won't hurt.

So there, if you want to help people to live standing, you can do either or bot of these : sign a petition (which takes about a minute) or organize a Pyramid of shoes (which takes longer, but will lead a lot of people to sign the petition.

On a side note, HI is part of the "Make Poverty History" Campaign.

Bottom Note : if any of you knows an equivalent to "sign", please let me know, I think I used it way too often

Harry Potter and the Great Shipping War

2005-09-04T17:26:00.000+03:00

I used to think I was an obsessive Harry Potter fan. I mean, I go to midnight parties so I could buy the books the minute they come out. I spend hours on Internet discussing the books inside and out. I almost cried when I went to see the first movie and there wans't anymore room. I've read each book around ten times.

So, yeah, I thought that would be enough to make me one of the most insane Harry Potter fans.

I was wrong.

First of all, let me introduce you to the Potterverse if you don't belong to it. There are three very important parts.

Number one are the big websites, such as Mugglenet and The Leaky Cauldron. If you want to be up to date on all Harry Potter things, those two websites are the places to go. Mugglenet webmaster Emerson and Leaky Cauldron chief editor Melissa are two of the most proeminent representatives of the Harry Potter fans. That is why, as the sixth Harry Potter book came out, they had the huge privilege to go interview JK Rowling. Also, those two websites got the very much wanted Favorite Site Award from JK Rwoling.

Number two is JK Rowling herself. She rarely communicates with her fans, which makes it even more important anytime she does let us know things. She either does it on her website or in very rare interviews.

Number three is the shippers. The shippers are frightening. They're powerful (or at least, they like to think they are). They're numerous.

A bit of vocab : "Ship" is short for relationship, and a shipper is someone who belives in a particular ship. There are as many ships are there are charcters, and even more. From Harry/Snape to the Giant Squib/Moaning Myrtle, there are a lot of ships. Most of them are just here for fun, but some of them are really serious. That's where shippers start becoming frightening.

There are three main ships out there : Harry/Hermione (which in short is called Harmony), Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny. It is obvious where these ships contradict, namely who do Harry (the hero) and Hermione (the girl) end up with.

This issue was solved during the last book, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (in short, HBP). **Spoiler warning**

Harry and Ginny started dating, and JK Rowling made it pretty clear that Harry wasn't interested with Hermione romance-wise.

HMS Harmony sunk.

During the interview with Emerson and Melissa, Emeron called the Harmionians "delusional".

And hell broke lose.

Harmonians have been pretty loud ever since, trying to get JK Rowling to change her story. Yes, indeed, they are petitioning an author to change a stroy that has been in the making for over 10 years. I never thought it could go that far.

This is really insane. There are people out there more obsessed with Harry Potter than me. In the midst of all this, someone managed to put in a little fun and Emerson has started a special edition of his Wall of Shame, which is where he usually puts all the hate mail he gets.

One can only hope that like Pumpkinhead's Un-Tribute to JK Rowling, Otter Snow's petition is a joke.

If not, I'm starting to be really worried for the human race in general.

Another quote of the day

2005-09-04T12:41:00.000+03:00

What can i say? I love quotes. If you stick around this blog, you'll read thousands of them.
I found a new one that I thought was hilarious.

Last night, I dreaned I ate a ten-pound marshmallow, and when I woke up the pillow was gone.
Tommy Cooper

Sleep

2005-09-04T12:22:00.000+03:00

There is a saying stating that the world belongs to early risers. I couldn’t disagree more.

The world absolutely does not belong to early risers. Or at least, I hope not, since there is not much I love more than getting up late. When possible, I don’t get out of bed before 10 am, and when I do have to get up and go to work, I make sure I do as much as possible the night before, so I can grab a minute or so of sleep here and there. My calculations are to the second, and right now, I have to get up exactly 35 minutes before leaving. I’m still trying to figure out how I could do less, while still eating breakfast (I can’t spend a day without something in my stomach) and taking a shower (which is still the only way to properly wake myself up).
Why do I need to stay in bed? Some people (including some very close family members who shall not be named here) just can’t stand to stay in bed after waking up. I LOVE it. It’s the one moment of the day that belongs to me, and only me. I can think of what I want to do with the time I have. That’s also when I come up with ideas on writing. So, yeah, in short, I just need this time. Also, I happen to need a lot of sleep. Some of us can rest for five hours and then be up and about. I totally can’t. I need nine hours of sleep, no less. Otherwise, I’ll sleep during class.
However, the People-Who-Get-Up-Early (probably the same who came up with this stupid saying in the first place) feel compelled to make me get up, most of the time by either barging in my room at ungodly hours (and yes, 9 am is an ungodly hour) or calling me at the same time. They seem to think that I’m missing out on something wonderful by not getting up. Apparently, the hour I spend only half-awake, wondering why I’m not in my bed is important.
This is a dictatorship, and I’m rebelling. After all, how do they know for sure that getting up early really makes your day? It’s only a matter of perspective! It all depends on the person! However, since us, late risers cannot possibly make them stay in bed late (since that would mean we have to get up early to make sure they do stay in bed), there is no way we can make our point! It’s completely unfair!
If you agree with this revolution, please let me know. If I hear from 10 or more people, I will start a petition to the early risers.

Quote of the day :
I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting.
Mark Twain

To people who were wondering what kind of mother stories I need, here is the answer : ANYTHING! Really. Most likely, I'll just use anecdotes as starting points, and then will let my imagination wander. I just need to start somewhere.

Quote of the day

2005-09-03T23:23:00.000+03:00

Don't knock the weather. If it didn't change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn't start a conversation.
Kin Hubbard

Mother stories

2005-09-03T23:09:00.000+03:00

I'm currently trying to write a short story about a mother/daughter relationship for a short story contest. However, relations with my mother are currently not-so-good, so I don't want to write about myself. If anybody who happens to read this blog (I'm starting to wonder whether people actually do read this blog) has a fun anecdote they would like to share and don't mind me using it, please leave a comment!

Also, I noticed that many blogs poped up recetly about Katrina. I won't talk about Katrina here anymore, it's too de pressing, and there's nothing I can add to the subject that hasn't already been told a million times. If you want to hear more about what's going on, you can go here or here, they have frequent detailed reports.

Jealous of these authors

2005-09-02T22:57:00.000+03:00

Outercast e-mailed me today asking me to answer some questions for the autumn issue in which I'll be published. One of the questions was "I'm jealous of these authors..."

The list could be very long. I'm pretty much jealous of any author that gets published and that people enjoy. However, I'm even more jealous of the authors I enjoy, because they are, of course, the best.

Unfortunately, I didn't dare putting all those authors in my list, because it would have been way too long. So, here, in exclusivity, you get the full list :

English language authors

1) JK Rowling (Harry Potter is still a strong number one on my favorite books list!)
2) Meg Cabot (she incidently has the coolest blog ever. Link is on your right)
3) John Grisham
4) Anne Perry
5) Lilian Jackson Braun (whose website I couldn't find. If there is one, please let me know!)
6) Jane Austen. She practically invented modern romance. She inspired about every single romance books out there. Need I say more?

French authors

1) Daniel Pennac (no website either...)
2) Catherine Missonier (her book "Le gout de la Mangue", in English "The taste of the Mango" is still number 2 in my favorite book list, it has been there ever since I read it. It's a beautiful love story)
3) Victor Hugo (he is the only one excused for not having a website since he died over a century ago).
I don't think I forgot any of my favorite authors. I have a very long list of favorite books, that also have great authors who didn't make the list. I'll tell you someday, but not today, since this is my forth post of the day and I think it's more than enough.

Looking for fun blogs

2005-09-02T21:06:00.000+03:00

While going round the internet, I found this blog. It looks like anice one, so if you're bored of mine, you can go there. It's pretty much one person telling about her life, but in a way that makes it more interesting than blogs where you read a line a day, that is usually completely misspelled.
Update : This one also looks like fun, but I'll have to check whether it's actully serious or not.
Finally, if in the midst of Katrina and the anniversary of the Beslam tragedy, you're looking for a bit of fun, I would advice this one. It's not a blog, but unless you think you can't laugh a bit with religion, you'll like it (warning : if you're a strong creationist, you won't like it. You might want to try another website such as this one which is a bit more neutral, though obviously not completely since I like it). Make sure you do read the part about the pizza in the end.

Katrina

2005-09-02T14:40:00.000+03:00

I may live pretty far away from the United States, but believe me, Katrina and the damages that she has done (I suppose it's a she, since her name is Katrina) are of concern to us as well. There isn't much I can do, though, besides linking to the Eye of the Storm and advice any of you who wants to help somehow to go to the Red Cross. I'm sure the people in New Orleans and Biloxi will take any help they can get.

Update : there is more you can do if you live in the US. You can offer housing to homeless people.

Doctors

2005-09-02T12:27:00.000+03:00

I can't say I'm not happy to get comments. I'm glad to see that some people find their way to my blog, and even want to bookmark them. However, I don't know when I gave you all the impression that I am sick or poor.

Out of the four posts I got, I had to delete one because they didn't even bother to give me feed back such as "you rock" or "you suck".

One other was giving me advice on how to get money. That's nice of you, man, but I just got paid AND I'm going to be published, so finances are not that terrible right now.

The two last were nice, even saying that they would bookmark my blog. However, the effect was a bit ruined when they offered links to medical websites. guys, I'm not sick. Well, like everybody, I get the flu every other winter or so, and a headache about once a month, but really, that's it. And, the day I actually feel something is wrong, I promise, I'll go check with my doctor.

I know your websites are serious, diabet is not something fun, and such websites are probably useful for diabetic people. However, I am not diabetic. Last time I made a general check up, belive me, I was in perfect health (and I was really checked for EVERYTHING). So there. Don't bother with medical websites.

However, if you want to link to your blog, feel free to do so, I'll check it out, and maybe bookmark it if I like it.

All this, however made me find my theme for the quote of the day, which is :

One of the first duties of the physician is to educate the masses not to take medecine.

Sir Willian Osler

If you have quotes that you think are cool enough to get on my blog (and I want really cool or fun quotes), feel free to tell me about them in a comment!

ETA : I have now turned on the word verification for comments. I know it's a bummer, but at least, it won't stupidly get my hopes up anytime I get a comment.

Great news

2005-09-02T11:22:00.000+03:00

This is a time of celebration! Two things happened since my last post : first of all, I found out that my story Sanity will be published in the autumn issue of the magazine Outercast (link is on the right hand side of the screen). Second of all, I got my first comments, which means some people do read my blog. I feel a lot less lonely!
Tank you for taking time to read this!

Presidents

2005-09-01T22:15:00.000+03:00

I was looking for a cool quote of the day for tomorrow, and I found this :
Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job.
Douglas Adams.

I love Douglas Adams, he has the funniest quotes out there. Anyway, I'm putting it up today even though I already have a quote for today, because this reminded me of a joke I found preety funny. Here's for your enjoyment :

Bill and Hillary Clinton (or any First Couple you can think of, this works for everybody) are in their car, going on vacation. They run out of gas, so they stop in the nearest gas station. As the get in, the pump attendant goes :
"Hillary! How are you? What have you been up to, I haven't seen you in ages!"
And so Hillary answers, because she seems to know the guy, and they start talking about old school days and old friends... you know how that is.
When they finally hit the road again, Bill asks, "Who was that guy?"
"Oh," Hillary answers, "He was an old school friend. We kind of dated for a while..."
So Bill goes, pretty proud, "Well, you see, if you had married him, you would be a pump attendant!"
Hillary looks at him and answers, "Now, Bill, you don't get it. If I had married him, he would be President."

Ain't that funny?

Quote of the day

2005-09-01T20:18:00.000+03:00

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.
Herm Albright

Quote of the day

2005-08-31T23:05:00.000+03:00

Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.
Mark Twain

Quote of the day

2005-08-30T22:45:00.000+03:00

"So please, oh PLEASE, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install,
Alovely bookshelf on the wall."
Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Quote of the day

2005-08-28T00:14:00.000+03:00

Good friends, good books and a sleppy conscience : this is the ideal life.
Mark Twain

Cashiers

2005-08-27T01:32:00.000+03:00

Here is an essay on being a cashier.

Cashiers

As a human being, I’m sure you’ve already been in a store. If this store was somehow normal, you probably had to deal with a cashier. Depending on your mood, how long it took you to find your purchases, whether or not you were able to find an associate in the store, you were rather good or rather bad mood by the time you got to the cash register. If, unfortunately, it was a bad day, you most likely, as a human being, took it all out on one person : the cashier.
I am a cashier. It’s not my lifetime job, thank God, but only a summer job. However, for the past month, I’ve had a pretty good idea of what it’s like to get up in the morning and to go to work knowing that you’ll most likely get yelled at for most of the day. Guess what? It’s not fun.
I have noticed one thing : customers get in the store with a pretty good idea of what they would like to buy (in general). However, they might still need a piece of advice, and not find someone who can help them. That is a bit irritating. Then, whatever object they want to buy, it isn’t in the store. A close version is there, but they’re sort of disappointed not to find it. Another thing that could happen is that they find it, but it’s broken. That is another source of disappointment.
Anyway, you’re a regular customer of a store, I don’t have to tell you everything that could go wrong. My point is, when the customers finally get to the register, they’re annoyed. That’s alright. They lash it all out on the cashier. That is not alright.
Guess what? It’s not the cashier fault that you’re having a bad day. It’s not her (or his) fault either that people in the store are not helpful. She isn’t the one to blame if there aren’t enough associates in the store. She is not the boss. Far from it. She has a difficult, bad paid, boring and tiring job.
My point is : don’t yell at the cashier. There isn’t much she can do for you, and yelling will get you nowhere. However, there is much you can do for her, to help her have a slightly better day. Warning : some of these things are highly surprising and shocking I suggest you take a chair.

1) Smile (Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. I warned you, though).
2) Make up you mind on what you want and don’t want before you get to the cash register.
3) Give her the exact change.
4) Make sure you have a way to pay before she went through all 400 things you want to buy.
5) When she asks “How are you today?”, kindly answer, and inquire about her day.
6) Tell her a joke. They don’t have much occasions of laughing.
7) If your change is only one or two cents, tell her to keep it. In her pocket.
8) If you notice the customer before you is being an ass, support her. She can’t talk back to bad customers. You can.
9) Sweet talk to her.
10) Stop sweet talking to her if you see someone that looks like her boss around.

I do hope you’re not in shock. These things seem terribly hard to achieve, I know, but believe me. You can do it!

Quote of the day

2005-08-26T22:43:00.000+03:00

When I am dead, I hope it may be said,
His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.
Hilaire Belloc

Quote of the day

2005-08-26T00:12:00.000+03:00

Outside of of dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.
Groucho Marx

Sanity

2005-08-25T23:35:00.000+03:00

Here is my first short story. It has been submitted for the second issue of Outercast. It's the first draft.

Sanity

Up until I met Ethan Lint, I believed in sanity. I was the one teaching people normalcy. I loved my job. I thought I was always doing the right thing. I, Liza Dalrymple, had achieved my goal in life to be the normal one.
My entire childhood had been spent with kids laughing at me because they thought I wasn’t normal. They called me Dalpimple because I had a bit too much of acne. I was the freak at school. I didn’t care, though. They could throw as many snowballs they wanted at me, as long as I knew deep down that I was the normal one. I knew I was sane, and they were just idiots.
After a hard day at school, I would come home and study. I was a geek, and proud of it. I kept thinking “I’ll show them in the end”. Show what, I didn’t exactly know. I just knew that someday, I would be the one deciding what was cool and what wasn’t. It is the main hope that kids who are made fun of during school cling to. My neighbour was a doctor, and I loved going to see her. When I reached the legal age, I started to work as a secretary for her, and I knew then I wanted to be a doctor.
I went to college, and was easily admitted in medical school. When I got top grades, I was comforted in my belief that I was the smart, normal one, and the others were idiots. When I chose psychiatry, I thought I did because it was so interesting, but looking back, I know I did it only because it made me feel normal. I fringed upon insanity. Whenever someone in trial was cleared of charges for insanity, I thought the judicial system was rotten.
My views changed a bit, but not too much, when I started my internship in a psychiatric ward.
The first patient I treated thought he was a duck. If that was all of it, it would have been alright, but the man had tried to throttle his neighbour because she had attempted to convince him that he was, indeed, human. They had to lock him up. Couldn’t exactly put a man who thought he was a duck in jail, but they couldn’t either let a duck who tried to throttle his neighbour walk free.
There were many like him in the ward. I think I will always remember this kid, who had, at age six, killed her mother. After too many scary bedtime stories, she had become sure that her mother wanted to kill her. It was, as she saw it, self defence.
There were many others like that, whose mind was in another place. As a medical student, I prouded myself in being reasonable, and sometimes, when I had drunk a bit too much, I would tell my friends those stories like fun jokes, despite the medical secrecy I was supposed to hold.
All those mentally sick people around me, living outside the regular world, they made me feel sane. It was such a good feeling.
When I started working as a fully learnt doctor, I felt so special. I had an office with “Liza Dalrymple” written in big bold letters on the door. I was the one saying what normalcy was. It wasn’t anything conceited, like “I know what’s right and wrong, you don’t”, but I was pretty sure that when I told someone that there wasn’t an elephant in his room trying to squash him, I was in my right mind.
It was hard, though, at times, to see some of my patients crying at night, because they thought they saw someone hiding behind the chair in their room. It was so trying to comfort kids at two in the morning who didn’t understand why their parents weren’t sitting next to them, when their parents had in fact been killed in a shooting in the street. I saw things that were not pretty. It made me enjoy my normal life even more.
That, however, stopped when I met Ethan Lint.
Ethan’s boss had brought him to our attention one day, saying his employee said he communicated with Martians every night. His boss, a nice guy, didn’t mind this little bit of insanity, and had just asked for advice on what to do when Ethan randomly stopped taking care of customers because he had some urgent business to attend to with his extra terrestrial friends.
It wasn’t enough yet to make him a permanent resident of our ward. I just went to talk with him every few days, and soon enough, he started telling me about his friends. They seemed nice and harmless enough.
The patriarch, Robert (I was surprised that they had normal, human names), was very wise, but liked to crack a joke from time to time. One day, he had tricked Janice (his niece) into believing they were going to leave Earth to visit Jupiter. It was that day, when Janice burst in tears that she liked Earth too much, that they had found out that she was in love with Ethan. Ethan had then confessed his love back, and they had been living a happy love story ever since. The only one to frown upon this relationship was James, Janice’s brother. He was convinced that his sister’s true love was his best friend, who was still living on Mars, even though said best friend, Ethan told me with a smirk, was already married. Ethan didn’t like James.
I agreed with Ethan’s boss, this bit of insanity was harmless enough, and though Ethan would be better of sane, there was no urgent need to cure him. I managed to convince him that his friends didn’t really want him to stop working randomly to do business with them.
His boss was happy with me, and since Ethan didn’t look like a threat to himself or anybody else, I left it at that.
I regretted it deeply when one day, Ethan was admitted in my hospital’s ER. He had jumped through his window. When I first came to see him, he was unconscious. I took long look at him. Once a handsome young man, Ethan was now covered with bruises. His nose was broken and swollen, and so were both his legs. His head had been shaved in order to heal the cuts on his skull.
When I came back a few days later, he was conscious again. I had dreaded this moment, because I had to find out why he had tried to commit suicide, and then take the decision whether he should be locked in the psychiatric ward or not. It was, as you can imagine, a hard decision to take.
When I asked him why him jumped through the window, his answer was the kind I had feared. He told me that James had caught him and Janice in a compromising position, and since he couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour, they had left for Jupiter. To him, it was a perfect reason to die. To me, it was a perfect reason to make him a resident of my ward.
At first, Ethan thought my ward was just a special place for people whose heart had been broken. He thought my job was to mend it. Slowly, though, he understood that he would leave not when his heart would be mended, but when his mind would be put back in place.
I will never forget the day he fully realised that. He was in my office, talking about Janice, and he suddenly stopped speaking. I asked him what was wrong, and he looked at me straight in the eyes and said, “You think I’m insane, don’t you? You think Janice doesn’t exist and my heart isn’t really broken?”
I had a principle : I never lied to my patients, only tried to avoid the cold hard truth. However, there was no way I could avoid it that day. I looked back in his eyes, and said, “Ethan, nobody has ever met Robert, Janice or James before. It is hard for us to believe you. I, for one, do not believe that Janice exists. However, as long as you think she exists, I will listen to you.”
“And what happens the day I don’t believe she exists anymore?” he asked.
“That day, you will be able to leave the ward.”
Ethan left my office pensively.
He came back the next day, and told me that maybe Robert, Janice and James had been a fragment of his imagination and that he didn’t quite believe they existed anymore. Once again, I told him the truth. It was obvious enough that he had said that just to get out.
He reminded me of the old joke of a psychiatric patient who thought his toothbrush was a dog. He kept dragging it around on a leach. One day, he goes see the psychiatrist and says “Don’t you think my toothbrush is pretty?”
The doctor answers “You don’t think it’s a dog anymore?”
“Well, no, doctor, it’s pretty obvious it’s a toothbrush.”
“Alright,” the doctor answers, “You’re fit to leave, then!”
When the man reaches the exit, he takes his toothbrush out of his pocket and whispers, “We got him, Rex!”
Ethan spent the next two weeks trying to convince me that his Martians friends didn’t exist. I was sceptical at first, but then noticed that he was getting more sullen every day. That was usually a sign that the patient came back to normalcy, and that they realised that they had been living in a dream for years. It was good to see them slip out of insanity, but also sad to watch them lose their years long daydream.
The day before Ethan left the ward, I found him in his room, crying. I sat beside him, and waited for him to talk. Recently, I had come to the conclusion that Ethan only talked when he was ready. Finally, he started speaking.
“When I was a kid, in pre-school, everybody had a secret friend. They all talked to their secret friend. I had one too. It was Janice. She always understood me. She was the coolest imaginary friend ever, she was from another planet. She understood me better than anybody. She was smart and pretty. And, then, I grew up, and I grew out of it.
“Then, just a few years ago, at a time when I was very lonely, she came back. She wasn’t alone, there was also Robert and James with her. I had three friends, then. At first, they were just in my mind, but they grew silently, and came in my life. I couldn’t live without them, do you understand, Dr. Dalrymple? They were the only ones who talked to me. Everybody thought I was a weirdo. I know now that they weren’t real, but they were so nice, that I made myself believe it. I loved them. They were all I had. ”
That night, I signed Ethan Lint’s release papers.
When I came home, I felt completely crushed. I tried to make myself believe that I had done something right, that now Ethan wasn’t a danger to himself anymore. I tried to remember what he looked like when he first came in my ward, bruised and both legs broken from jumping through a window. He thought my job was to mend his heart. I just couldn’t get around the fact that I had broken it once more.
The next day, Ethan left the hospital. I decided to follow him for his first morning out, as I often did with my most difficult patients. Ethan wasn’t a difficult patient, I was just curious. He first went to see his former boss, probably to know if he could get his job back. He then wandered in the streets, stopping in his favourite shops. He kept smiling, looking around, like a child on his first visit to the zoo. He looked very much like an ex-convict just out of jail.
After a few hour, he went in a shop I had never noticed, a hole in the wall that you can miss when you walk by it. It was an astronomy shop. I heard him ask the shop attendant, “Would you have maps of Jupiter, by any chance?”
I smiled to myself and left him at that.
Sometimes, I thought, sanity is way overrated.

Escape Writing

2005-08-25T23:26:00.000+03:00

Hello everybody!
I'm starting this blog to publish the stories I write. The name is "Escape writing", because just like reading, writing is my way to escape!
I hope you'll all enjoy my stories.
J.L.M.
Contact info : jlm-escapewriting@hotmail.com