OK, so work sucks lately, even more than usual because of 'politics' and silly games between some people. But my team did a great thing today, they managed to pull off a nearly impossible task my boss had set them: to organise an event for 300-400 hundred people in two weeks, including a 30 minute video with testimonies, drinks and food for every one, etc. Sure, some things could have gone better, but considering the deadline they did an awesome job. Sometimes it's good to focus on the five great colleagues you have, and not the hundreds of others who make your life hell sometimes

Dear Google/Android,

You are evil.

When I am typing a text message, I have no problem with you suggesting words. It can even be welcome sometimes. BUT what is unacceptable, is automatically replacing my perfectly typed word with yours, especially since you are wrong 90% of the time. I will be the one deciding whether your alternative word suits me, not you.

You seems to assume that every one is incapable of typing anything correctly. While there may be people to whom this applies, I am not one of them. In fact, your antics require me to reread my messages scrupulously or risk leaving in 'automatic' errors. So leave me the fuck alone

Yes, I admit it, I'm a nerd... To track my weight, and because I love messing around with Excel, I made this graph:



And confession number two: I made this graph when I was at work *gasp* So much for work ethic

The colors correspond to the BMI scale. There still a way to go, but I'm hoping the visualisation helps!

Fact is I haven't been the happiest little camper lately. Some deep-seated anxiety issues mostly, but also because of my job. Because, no matter how I look at it, it seems like a waste of time. Sure, I'm indirectly helping poor people (for those of you who don't know, I work for a social welfare organisation, behind the scenes) but it doesn't seem to matter in my mind. Because it's not what I want to do with my life.

So when I get frustrated at my job, I start thinking about leaving and looking for something better. But ultimately, even if the job is different, the feeling of wasting my life would still be there. So I stick around and get annoyed with my boss, etc. and get very grumpy.

I had a talk with BF about it, about me wanting to write, but it being almost impossible to survive on that (mortgage to pay,...). We've always been very 50/50 were costs of living are concerned, except when I was unemployed. So when he said that in a year or two, we might have enough financial leg room for me to work part-time and write part-time, where he would obviously have to bear a heavier financial burden, I was quite surprised.

Truth be told, I hadn't even dared to think about that option, as I thought it wouldn't be acceptable. But now that he mentioned it, I'm so impatient!

Wow, those four days in the north of France certainly flew by... The first day of the week is behind me and already the weekend seems very distant.

I'll sort out some pictures soon, but in the meantime, here's the funniest moment: we tried to go fishing, but as we're newbies at fishing for small freshwater fish, BF bought some bait at a specialist shop. Including a bag with (live) worms/maggots. After a day, BF discovered there was a hole in the bag: they had escaped into the box with his fishing equipment, creepy crawlies everywhere in the box, inside wrapped fishing hooks,... He had to pick them out manually one by one, I can tell you he didn't enjoy that (Yes, I'm a sadist )

So I'm off on a short holiday, four days in the north of France. It's a surprise trip actually, BF doesn't know where we're going The weather won't be the best, but at least we'll be away from work and away from familiar locations! And the hotel looks very pretty, should be a cosy and romantic setting. And free wireless internet! That's essential, lol.

Once upon a time, a girl fell asleep in the forest. Her cheeks were pink, her eyelids pale and trembling, her breathing steady as the sea.
She slept for a week, on a bed of moss. As she slept, she dreamt of a world with flying horses, furry snakes and squirrels the size of elephants. Warm rain fell from the sky.
When she finally awoke, she was greeted by squirrels the size of elephants, furry snakes and flying horses.
Her eyes went wide with wonder.
You have the power, the owl informed her as he yawned.

I thought this little puzzle was quite fun. Can you recognise them all?

Well, humans can have all sorts of crazy fetishes, particular parts of the body they prefer, particular acts, etc.

But can cats have fetishes too? Mine seems to have an obsession with tampons. One day, I found a box of tampons spread out over the bathroom floor, half of them had been 'mauled' in some fashion, some of them entirely taken out of their wrapping.

Ever since, I've become more cautious about closing the bathroom door or leaving tampons lying around, because I'm sure he'll get them, unwrap them and play with them as if they were mice... He even discovered a box once, unopened, sitting on a cupboard. I wonder if it has a particular smell...

There is an old one I keep around though, just in case I need to distract him from other misschief. I guess it triggers a primal instinct, he goes crazy for it I just hope that he never turns up with it in the living room when we have guests

She works at the light bulb factory.
She stands at the end of the production line, picks up every light bulb, turns it around in her hands, lights it up in an electrical socket and deposits it back on the conveyor belt for packaging.
With each passing light bulb, she hopes. Because, once in a blue moon, she finds a light bulb that is different. Rather than throw it in the rejected bin, she slides it into her jacket and takes it home.
At home, she sits at the window, admiring the irregularities in the glass, imagining animals, plants, objects, words.
She believes the special light bulbs are declarations of love from the light bulb machine.
She lays every special light bulb in a small white box lined with tissue paper and writes the date of production on the box with a silver pen. Each box is gingerly placed on a shelf, neatly stacked in chronological order.
She doesn’t sleep at night. She looks at the shelves, believes the light bulb machine is whispering to her through the light bulbs in the boxes.

Today her place is empty at the conveyor belt. Today the light bulbs are inexplicably blue.