#40 | Slowing things down with wholemeal crusty bread

Life's been a bit of a whirlwind recently.

I've worked and worked and worked, and I'm three months into this new job and loving it but it's busy. It's new and exciting and makes me want to get up in the morning, but also keeps me up at night. On the weekends I become busy with the housework I neglige Monday to Friday, and the friends I don't have time to see.

This week was even madder than usual, what with London Cocktail Week requiring me to be all over town. On Friday evening, after a week that included a punch pong tournament, hugs with a lizard, concrete-percolated cognac, a rainforest, several burgers, a whole day of rum university and the bashing of a giant piñata in the rain, I came home exhausted and knocked myself out with a giant bowl of chilli.

This weekend is one for taking things slow, at last. So naturally, bread happened.





What I love and find relaxing about cooking and baking is that it's a precise science, but one of imagination. There's a million real chemistry rules about what works with what and how things react. Oil, eggs, heat, yeast, and the miracle of gluten. But it's also all about putting these things together in ways always new and seeing what happens.



This time I wanted stability, so I kept to a simple crusty bread. One for the science. Water, yeast, flour, salt, and that miracle of gluten I still don't understand (nor really manage to make happen – someone tell me how to get those air bubbles to join the party).

Bread gets things slowing down. Put your yeast to work. Wait. Make a rough dough. Wait. Knead, and knead, and knead. Wait. Pop in the oven. Wait and wait and wait.

I always feel like taking a step back come the colder months. The days get shorter and all I want is to cuddle up in bed, sip on hot chocolates, put Angus and Julia Stone on, light candles and get sewing. It brings with it a bittersweetness of things ending and ended. It's that feeling when you stare into your closet trying to find your favourite, warmest, thickest winter jumper and think about everything's that's changed since you last put it on.

In turn I encourage you to take things slow: put work, and friends, and life on pause. Find your jumper and light the candles. Breathe in, breathe out. And eat warm bread spread with blackberry jam.



Recipe found here.

happy 2014!

Welcome, welcome 2014. Time flies! It's already the third new year this little blog of mine sees.

This was an incredible year for me but it absolutely flew by. I only wrote forty blog posts but they make me feel like a proud mama! Not only was it incredible, it was also a very busy year and I'm glad I managed to save some time to post some little things from time to time. I'm conscious this only matters to me... Not many people end up on this little corner on the Internet and since I barely ever hear anyone's thoughts on it, I have no idea what pleases and what doesn't... but at least it pleases me!

Here's a thing I learnt in 2013: you can't always please everyone. Sometimes, you can't even please yourself. In 2014, I hope to learn to be okay with that. Baby steps. That's another biggie from 2013 for me — one step at a time. You can't have everything at once, or learn everything at once, or fix everything at once. It's a tough thing to accept, because it means being smart enough to not throw all your efforts blindly against a wall but rather knock little things off, one by one.

In 2014, take a step back and look at the big picture. That's my advice to myself, and to you. There's a  big chance that with a little distance, things won't be so bad, and you won't be so lost. Or if you are, you're not alone — and how lost can you be if everyone is as lost as you? Doesn't that mean that we're actually all in the right place?

Or maybe I'm going nuts from having had a month-long cold.

Anyway, one thing 2014 hasn't and probably won't change is how much I can talk to not say much. What can I say, writing's my thing! I read a tweet by Caitlin Moran yesterday that said something like "Job: find what you love doing, and figure out a way to be paid for doing it." I spent the past twenty years figuring out the former, hopefully 2014 will focus on the latter...

Happy new year you all. I hope 2014 brings you all of the joy and laughs in the world, patience, strength, love, health, and mostly lots of cheese.


ps. I'd promise I have lots of great things planned for AoF this year but truth is, as always I'll be taking it as it goes with this blog. I have a messy stressful year ahead. We'll see how it goes.

pps. this is totes a photo from nov 2012. shhht secret! x g

How to make the most of your internship (and get one!)

Someone needs to re-motivate themselves to blog, ey?!

As I mentioned in my last post, I recently interned four weeks at Company magazine, hence the lack of posts. The experience was fantastic and I did my best to make the most of the four weeks there, and after spending my days writing web stories and researching the Interwebz, I have to admit blogging was the last thing I wanted to do.

But since it's now finished, I figured I'd share a few internship tips from my work experience on the Features desk at Company... Who knows, some of you might be interested?

- Make sure your CV is free of spelling mistakes and up to date. Simple but necessary.

- When writing out cover letters, always adapt them to whoever you're sending them to. That includes the person you're adressing, but also the company you want to intern with. Do some research, show you know what they do and insist on why you are the right person for this particular placement. I'd also advise to be a bit audacious with the letter if the company allows it: make jokes, send a hand-written letter, make a video... Something to get you noticed, without going past the limits.

- Yay, you got the internship! Now, make yourself heard. You want to make the most of your time there, be useful, and hopefully be remembered. So if you have an idea, share it! If you have an opinion that you believe to be interesting/critical/original on an issue, speak up. Ask if you can be credited for things you did. Be polite and remember you don't know everything, but show you're not just a plant pot.

- Always do something. If you're at a loss for things to do, let others know you're available. They probably could use some help, and it would be a shame for you to waste your internship by staring blankly into nothingness.

- When given something to do, take notes. It'll help your figure out where to start, and will avoid having to ask people to constantly repeat stuff...

- ...But do ask questions if you don't know how to do things! Better ask once and do it than try a million of things that don't work and waste everyone's time.

- Internship over, sad face! Still got ideas? Keep in touch with the company, make yourself available and suggest things you could do for them.

- Get your hands on the July 2013 issue of Company and read Alexxsia Elizabeth's feature 'How to be a good intern.' Pretty much sums up what not/to do.

Some of these might be more applicable to internships in the media than in other domains, but I think the general idea is valid. One thing's for sure: by doing that, I definitely made the most of my internship and had an absolute blast while learning a lot. You can have a look at some things I wrote for the website here, here and in here. And you can even see my face on the website! :)

And finally, the ultimate piece of advice...

love, ugh

Today's Valentine's Day—yay! Best day of the year by far. The shops are covered in pink and red stuff, trains are full of guys awkwardly carrying around huge bouquets and teddy bears in paper bags, everyone's either getting engaged or laid, and mostly, ice cream is half price absolutely everywhere.

I spent the day telling my housemate that I was my own Valentine's this year. It took me a while to understand why it sounded so sad and creepy because to me, it makes perfect sense. Love yourself and the rest will follow might be beautifully cliché, but I still maintain it's about the best advice one can get, and especially when single on Valentine's day.

Love yourself, or at least accept yourself. The loving part will take more time, but I believe it'll come around eventually. And give yourself a break. Today, treat yo' self! If you have no Valentine's, there's a large chance you are the most important person in your life. So take care of that person.

There's no shame to be had in being alone. I'm actually one for quite a lot of me time (which doesn't mean I don't have friends or don't like partying... Believe me, I do.) But I frequently need to be alone, go at my own rhythm, do things my way and not think about what anyone else thinks of me because there isn't anyone else there.

Some more important and wise advice on that matter:

If you're alone on Valentine's day and feel like crap, cheer up. Make it about happiness. Make it about food. Make it about friendship. Today, I got given a heart-shaped chocolate lollipop by one of my housemates who hid them in the house for us to find today because she's currently away. I spent the day in the library but wore bright lipstick and did my hair for myself. I had a Galentine's Day lunch date with the Sheep. And tonight, I'm hanging out with my best friend, not cooking anything, and having a good laugh. Also she got me a red rose. Friends are the best. 

Valentine's Day is about love, yes, but it's up to you to define what love means to you. If you've got a special someone, ey, why not making it about them. Yes, corporations, consumerism, way too expensive chocolate-covered unripe fruits. Whatever. Love, dude. And if that special someone is you, or a friend, or all your friends, or a random someone you meet at a bar, do make the most of it. Today's your excuse.

On imagining authors complexly

This Christmas, I decided it was about time I live in the present and asked my parents for a Kindle. I've been an intense reader ever since I was a kid. It was always all about books, books, books. That's all I ever wanted for Christmas. Read was all I ever did. I collected books like kids collect marbles (except I collected marbles too, but that's another story.) Thing is, like most people who are passionate about books, I liked BOOKS. Hardcover pages-to-turn funny-smell books. It gave me many a back ache along the years, but I loved my books.

Problem is, I'm getting old and books are just too heavy to carry around... is the excuse I was giving for not reading anymore. So I put my pride away, took a deep breath and got myself a fancy Kindle with a pink case because why would you ever get something that isn't pink?! (I think it was about time I confess how much I love pink. NOW YOU KNOW. JUDGE AWAY.)

I needed a great first book to read digitally, something really meaningful. Now, if you know me just a little, you'll know I've got a slight obsession on everything Harry Potter. Remember this? Yeah, right. So naturally, I decided to read The Casual Vacancy, J.K. Rowling's new and first adult book.

Photograph: Ben Pruchnie/Getty Images via The Guardian.

Well. How do I put this? 

I started the book a month ago and still haven't finished it. That's how I put it. J.K. Rowling wrote a book and I just don't. Like. It. Which is perfectly normal and fine, except for someone who used to idealise Rowling as the ""perfect"" human being who went from nothing and created this fantastic world; a world that meant so much to so many people, to so many of my friends and me; a world in which I grew up and characters that taught me a lot about life and myself and... 

And now she's just a normal person who writes stuff I don't really give a damn about. 

Even though it should've been obvious to me, since I like to think that I am a fairly reasonable and relatively smart person, I needed this to realise that at the end of the day, she was just another person who eats and sleeps and buys groceries in her PJs (maybe?) and, also, writes books. 

Now, this past week-end I also met another of my favourite authors, John Green. Here's a proof, that I post not so much for you readers rather than for me: 

John Green in the background + me smiling at this brother Hank

Funnily enough, despite me being as admirative of him (and his brother) as I am of Rowling, meeting them didn't feel nearly as strange and unbelievable as reading The Casual Vacancy is. Maybe because I'm so used to seeing John's face on the Internet and him talking as if we were mates in his videos, maybe because he's not nearly as famous as JK, or perhaps because I got into his books and work when I was older; I don't know why, but John Green is to me a human being before being a New York Times bestseller and one of the most famous vloggers of the YouTubez.

One of John's books, Looking for Alaska (which happens to be the first of his that I read, way before I heard about the vlogbrothers), contains this quote:

"There are so many people. It is easy to forget how full the world is of people, full to bursting, and each of them imaginable and consistently misimagined." 

I guess this is why John Green was always a normal guy to me: because he writes books about imagining people complexly. And this includes friends and parents and authors and everyone you love and admire. They're not just one thing; they're people. Sometimes they're great, sometimes they suck.

And, well, Jo, I think you should stick to wizards. 

2012 -- The year everything happened

So it looks like I took a month off. Oopsie.

The end of the year tends to always be very busy. There are presents to buy, Christmas dinners to organise, essays to research and trees to decorate. This year was no different; it was just even busier. My mum came to visit for a week-end, I went to the university """ball""" (very loose understanding of the word ball) and I had a photography project to finish and hand in before the holidays.

After all of this was done, I worked a couple shifts to win back what I'd spent on presents, packed my things and got on the Eurostar to head home for a few days. As I was enjoying a complimentary breakfast in business class (apparently, this is what happens when my mum books my tickets), I took a moment to think back on 2012.

There's this great thing on Facebook this year called "2012: Your year in reviews." Using what I'm sure are very advanced algorithms (not), it tells you what are the twenty major events of your year. I thought it'd be pretty lame; turns out it got my year quite right.

Although it did select this:

Well... Almost right.

2012 was a pretty big year for me—and that's an understatement. I turned 18, I voted in presidential elections for the first time, I moved into a house that I picked without even consulting my parents and signed a rental contract with my name on it (!!!!), I got a seriously cool job, I went to freaking New York, I made some incredible friends that contributed to big changes in how I go about my life, and last but no least—I reached 10,000 views on the blog.

Most, if not all of these things have one thing in common: they resonate with a sense of adulthood that I wasn't expecting so early. Of course, leaving home and moving abroad when I was only 17 certainly accelerated the separation from teenagehood (French understanding of teenagehood, it stops around 18 rather than 20 to me.) But as I was lying on my university halls bed, eating Ben & Jerry's from the tub while watching Twilight (this is pure fiction by the way), I most definitely did not feel like an adult.

I recently had a conversation with two good friends of mine about The Future. After a fancy greek dinner with fancy skewers and fancy fried chorizo and super tasty tzatziki, we sat down with a glass of wine and discussed Real Life Problems, things like job opportunities and youth unemployment and asked each other important questions such as 'Would you rather work for McDonald's or The Daily Mail?' The view I had on these issues was pretty pessimistic. Looking at what goes on in the outside world these days, my first instinct is to hide under my covers.

However, when I think of 2012, of all the amazing things me and my friends went through, I feel like my generation might actually be ok. It might be a hell of a ride, but at least we've been taught to fight for what we want and hold on even when things look terrible.

So—2012, the year I sort of became an adult. But only just. I still sometimes have cereals for dinner.

10 Things I Wish I Had Known & Done As A Fresher

Year two's official started! I had several lectures, several seminars, did quite a bit of reading and had my first 'omg essays to write' realisation.

So naturally I want to discuss year one.

- Join all the societies! Ok, maybe not all. But join a few. Select things you really enjoy, or things you've been wanting to get into for a while, and go to the meetings. Talk to people. Suggest things to do. In short: put yourself out there, make friends who aren't your flatmates, and find great extra-curricular activities.

This is a picture of the [smiths] logo, at my university Freshers Fayre. [smiths] is the magazine of the university and one of many examples of societies you can find at unis. I work for [smiths]. See what we do here.
*
Ceci est une photo du logo de [smiths], au forum des associations de ma fac. [smiths] est le magazine de la fac et un example parmi d'autres des clubs qu'on peut trouver à la fac. 

- Do try and get a part-time job. In your first year, you're likely to have next to no hours. So use that time wisely and get yourself some money and experience. The Students' Union of your uni might be hiring: start there. And keep looking.

- As I said, lots of time on your hands. Find a great project to work on and commit yourself to it. Mine was the blog, but it was a 'small' one, and it took me until February to start vlogging and finally sit down and get creative again. Gosh, it felt good!

- Find a nearby Aldi and do you shopping there. Everything is SO CHEAP. And get your shampoo and stuff from Poundland/99p/Pound Stretcher. You can get real nice Dove things for next to nothing.

- Explore the area you live in. You're likely to study somewhere you don't know so take that chance to discover!

- Every time you sit down in a seminar next to a person you don't know, introduce yourself. And also if you've only met them briefly and that the way they're looking at you clearly indicate they're not sure who you are.

- Do your reading the active way. Ok, there are actually two pieces of advice in here. a) Do your reading. b) Don't just read. Highlight, take notes, write summaries. Try and engage with the reading. It'll make discussions in seminars much more interesting and you might have a real idea of what's going on.

- Go out. If you enjoy it. And then don't if you don't. I don't believe forcing yourself is going to make your university experience any better. Do try new things you're interested in, though! University is all about that.

- Lots of high-street shops have student discounts. Always ask!

- If you have any health issues, don't get all worked up about getting a doctor's appointment. If you're British, you're probably used to it; if you're not, you might have like me been to exposed to frightening tales about 10 hours-long queues. Just pop in to your local pharmacy and ask them for help. Nine times out of ten I got really good advice and efficient medication. (I still haven't been to see a proper doctor, too scared I'm going to die from old age in the waiting room.)


***

Ma deuxième année a véritablement commencé ! J'ai eu pas mal d'amphis, de séminaires, j'ai eu un paquet de lectures à faire, et j'ai eu mon premier moment "omg disserts à écrire."

Donc, naturellement, je vais vous parler de la première année.

10 choses que j'aurais aimé avoir su et fait durant ma première année (attention, ces conseils s'appliquent plus à une première année à la fac au Royaume-Uni qu'à une première année de math sup…)

- Inscris-toi à tous les clubs ! Ok, peut-être pas à tous. Mais quelques uns. Sélectionne des activités qui te plaisent vraiment, ou des choses que tu avais eu envie d'essayer depuis longtemps, et va aux réunions. Parle aux gens. Propose des trucs à faire. Bref : sors-de ta bulle, fais toi des amis qui ne sont pas te colocs, et trouve toi des super activités extra-scolaires.

- Essaye de te trouver un job. Tu auras probablement pas mal de temps libre durant ta première année. Profites-en pour te faire de l'argent et de l'expérience. Ta fac recherche peut-être des étudiants pour des jobs ponctuels : voilà un point de départ. Et continue à chercher.

- Comme je l'ai dit, pas mal de temps à tuer. Ma suggestion est de trouver un projet qui te tient à coeur et d'y travailler régulièrement. Pour moi, ça a commencé avec le blog, mais c'était pour moi un "petit" projet. Il m'a fallu jusque février pour me mettre aux vlogs et enfin me remettre à créer. Ca fait du bien !

- Trouve un Liddl dans le coin et va y faire des courses. C'est vraiment pas cher -- presque gratuit ! Et s'il y a un magasin type tout à 1€ dans le coin, essaye d'y trouver ton shampooing. En Angleterre, j'y trouve mes produits Dove habituels à 25% de leur prix habituel !

- Explore le coin dans lequel tu vis ! Il y a de fortes chances que l'endroit où tu étudies ne soit pas celui où tu as grandi alors profites-en !

- A chaque séminaire où tu te retrouves à côté de quelqu'un que tu ne connais pas, re-présente toi. A appliquer aussi dans les cas où tu as rencontré la personne tellement brièvement que son regard montre qu'elle a des doutes sur qui tu es.

- Adopte la technique de la lecture active. Ok, en fait ce point contient deux conseils. a) Lis les textes qu'on te demande de lire (et d'autres aussi !) et b) Ne t'arrête pas à la lecture. Surligne, prend des notes, résume les grandes idées. Essaye d'y mettre du tien. Ca rendra les discussions en groupe bien plus intéressantes et peut-être même que tu auras une idée de ce qui se passe en cours.

Après m'être acharnée sur les théories de Weber—et encore, pas trop de notes sur ce texte!
*
Defacing Weber—although this one isn't too bad!

- Sors faire la fête. Si c'est ton truc. Et ne le fais si ce n'est pas le cas ! Je ne pense pas que se forcer soit la meilleure solution pour profiter de la fac… Mais faire de nouvelles expériences est partie ingérante de la vie étudiante, donc n'hésite pas.

- Pas mal de magasins de fringues et autres ont des réductions étudiantes. Il faut toujours poser la question !

- (Spécifique UK !) En cas de problèmes de santé, pas la peine de se prendre la tête avec les médecins. Les anglais sont habitués ; pour nous autres, l'idée de passer 10 heures dans une salle d'attente est terrifiante. Je me contente de passer à la pharmacie et de leur demande de l'aide. Ils m'ont toujours donné de bons conseils et des médocs efficaces. (Et je ne suis toujours pas allée voir un vrai docteur, trop peur de mourir de vieillesse dans la salle d'attente.)

It's not easy being the baby

When I was five, I skipped a year. I'm not really sure why. The story doesn't say much, just that my teacher thought I already had whatever skills kids are supposed to learn in their third year of pre-school (probably like, colouring inside the lines or making pasta necklaces.)

My parents say the first months of school after 'the skip' were hard on me. I personally don't remember it being a big deal—I don't remember much from that time. So I'll trust them.

To me, it wasn't such a problem until a few years later.

See, skipping a class when you're five doesn't mean you're a genius. One could probably go on to become just a regular student, or even a bad one.

But it is assumed that you're a genius. Because you're 'the kid who's one year younger', every other child at school will assume that you're a NERD.

And believe me, no one wants to be the nerd in primary school.

As soon as my classmates realised that I had indeed skipped a year, I became the nerd. Not the accepted, sort of cool and underground nerd of today. Nerd culture didn't exist at that time. It didn't mean being into Battlestar Galactica or making Youtube videos.

Rather, it was about being good at math.

(Careful: I said 'being good', not liking. People assume being good at whatever subject necessarily means you love it. NO. THAT'S A MYTH. I've always been good at math—until today. And I've always deeply disliked math. It happened that despite our tensed relationship, I understood math. And when I didn't, I still managed to make it work. I'm the luckiest, right?)

A few days ago, my friend Charlie asked me if I'd answer a few questions on my university experience as 'under-eightee' for a piece she was writing for The Guardian.

I'm using quotation marks because to me, being younger has always been more of a tag rather than an actual thing. For years it got me the 'nerd' tag. I lived with it, accepted it, and finally managed to sort of make it disappear in high school. Since I joined an international section, pretty much everyone was 'the nerd' of whichever middle school they came from.

Here's what being one year younger did: it made me want to be average.

Average is not my thing, though. It obviously didn't work well. In my first six months of high school, I had showed up at least three times with smurf-blue tights and had died my hair from very blonde to dark brown.

Despite my wishes to be more 'in the norm' (a concept I've since grown to find misleading since it's pretty much non-existent), I stayed quite close to the top of my class in high school. However, the nerd tag did wear off. I think we finally all grew up and got over some of the school stereotypes. Some people didn't, and probably won't ever; sadly, I doubt they'll ever change mindsets, and I pity them for it.

Some of it stuck, and I'm glad: that's probably what got me to London.

Now that I had lost the nerd tag, I got a new one: the underage one. Charlie got nicknamed Baby Fresher. We both had the same problem: try going through freshers' week, and a whole year of nights out when your ID displays all proudly that you're very much not allowed inside the pub, sorry Miss.

Although it did annoy me quite often, and made my life much harder than it could have been, this new tag wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Being the kid in my group of friends has taught me two things.

One: endurance. The jokes, nicknames, and mean teases you get used to. The remarks regarding your possible lack of maturity you shrug off. I've learnt to love being the kid. I took pride in seeing that people older than me weren't even mature enough to get past it.

Two: resourcefulness. I've had my share of crap administrative problems—especially since moving to London—pre nights out 'do you have a friend's ID I could borrow?!' freak-outs and chats with strangers after being rejected from pubs.

When one has no other choice, one makes it work!

One of the questions Charlie asked me was if, given the choice, I'd rather start university at eighteen. So I thought about it. And I thought about the bigger question: given the choice, would I still skip a year?

And the answer is yes. Obviously, it's yes. Because ultimately, despite everything shitty situation I've been in, it's about the good stuff. And thanks to being the kid, the nerd and the underage one, I was lucky enough to meet such great, fantastic, utterly beautiful people.

Plus, the great thing with being so young, and already at university, is that I can pretty much fuck everything up and start all over again, and this time my age will be average.

***


J'avais cinq ans quand j'ai sauté une classe. Je ne sais pas vraiment pourquoi. L'histoire ne le dit pas, je sais juste que ma maîtresse trouvait que j'avais déjà acquis ce que les petits de grande-section de maternelle sont censés apprendre (genre, colorier sans dépasser ou faire des colliers de pâtes.)

Mes parents racontent que mes premiers mois dans la classe supérieure furent assez durs. Personnellement, ça ne m'a pas marqué—rien de cette époque ne m'a vraiment marqué. Je vais donc les croire.

Pour moi, ce n'est devenu un problème que quelques années plus tard.

Le truc, c'est que sauter une classe à cinq ans ne veut pas dire que tu es un génie. On pourrait même sûrement continuer notre éducation à un niveau moyen, voire mauvais.

Mais on part du principe que tu es un génie. Juste parce que tu es "celui qui a un an d'avance," tous les autres enfants de l'école ont décidé que tu es l'intello.

Et croyez-moi, personne ne veut être l'intello au primaire.

Dès que mes camarades remarquèrent que j'avais effectivement sauté une classe, ce fut moi l'intello. Pas le nerd accepté, un peu cool et décalé d'aujourd'hui. La culture nerd n'existait pas à l'époque. Être un intello ne voulait pas dire aimer Battlestar Galactica ou être youtuber.

C'était plutôt synonyme de super bonnes notes en maths.

(Attention : j'ai dit "bonne notes", pas passion. Souvent, les gens supposent que parce qu'un jeune a des bonnes notes dans une matière, c'est forcément parce qu'il l'adore. NON. C'EST UN MYTHE. J'ai toujours été bonne en math—jusqu'à aujourd'hui. Et j'ai toujours détesté les maths. Il s'avère que malgré nos très mauvais rapports, je comprenais les maths. Et quand ce n'était pas le cas, j'arrivais quand même à faire que tout fonctionne. Grave la chance, hein ?)

Il y a quelques jours, mon amie Charlie m'a demandé si j'accepterais de répondre à quelques questions sur mon expérience à la fac en tant que "pas-majeure" pour un article qu'elle écrivait pour The Guardian.

J'utilise des guillemets parce, pour moi, être plus jeune que mes camarades a toujours été une étiquette plutôt qu'un fait. C'est ce qui m'a collé l'étiquette d'intello pendant des années. J'ai vécu avec, je l'ai acceptée, et j'ai réussi je ne sais pas trop comment à faire qu'elle disparaisse au lycée. Vu que j'étais en section internationale, quasiment tout les élèves de ma classe étaient les intellos des collèges dont ils venaient.

Voilà ce qu'a provoqué mon année de moins : j'ai voulu être comme tout le monde.

Le problème étant que je n'y arrive pas trop, et ça n'a dont pas trop marché. Au bout de mes six premiers mois de lycée, j'étais allée au lycée au moins trois fois avec des collants bleu schtroumpf, et j'avais teint mes cheveux du très blond au très chocolat.

Malgré mon souhait d'être plus "dans la norme" (un concept que depuis, j'estime trompeur sachant qu'il est pour moi inexistant), je suis restée assez proche de la tête de classe au lycée. Cependant, l'étiquette intello finit par s'estomper. Je pense que nous avions finalement grandi et dépassé certains des stéréotypes scolaires. Pas tout le monde ; certaines personnes n'y parvinrent pas, et n'y parviendront probablement jamais. Je les plains.

Un peu de l'étiquette survécu, et j'en suis ravie : c'est probablement ce qui m'a permis de partir à Londres.

Mais alors que je m'étais enfin débarrassée de l'étiquette d'intello, on m'en colla une nouvelle : la mineure. Charlie fut surnommée le Bébé de Première Année. Nous eûmes toutes les deux le même problème : essaye de traverser la semaine d'inté, puis une année entière de sorties quand ta carte d'identité expose fièrement que non tu n'es pas la bienvenue dans ce bar, désolée Mademoiselle. (Les anglais sont apparemment bien plus tatillons sur l'âge que les français, tout du moins à Londres. Je n'ai jamais eu ce genre de problèmes en France !)

Bien que ça m'ait souvent agacée, et que ma vie en fut bien plus compliquée qu'elle aurait pu l'être, cette nouvelle étiquette ne m'a pas empêchée de vivre. Être le bébé de mon groupe d'amis m'a enseigné deux choses.

Primo : l'endurance. On s'habitue aux blagues, aux surnoms et aux moqueries. On envoie balader les personnes qui questionnent notre maturité. J'ai appris à aimer être la petite du groupe. J'étais fière de voir que certaines personnes plus vieilles que moi n'étaient pas assez matures pour voir plus loin que mon âge.

Secundo : la débrouillardise. J'ai eu un paquet de problème administratifs—encore plus depuis mon déménagement à Londres—de crises "est-ce que t'as une amie dont je pourrais piquer la carte d'identité ce soir ?!" pré-soirées et de conversations avec des inconnus devant des bars après m'être faite jeter.

Quand on a pas d'autre choix, on fait avec ce qu'on a !

Une des questions de Charlie était de savoir si je choisirais plutôt de commencer la fac à 18 ans si on m'en donnait aujourd'hui la possibilité. J'y ai réfléchi, et je me suis posée une plus grande question : si je pouvais choisir aujourd'hui, est-ce que je sauterai quand même la grande section de maternelle ?

La réponse est oui. Evidemment, c'est oui. Parce qu'au final, malgré toutes les situations pourries auxquelles j'ai du faire face, ce qui compte c'est le positif. Et parce que j'étais le bébé, l'intello et la mineure, j'ai eu la chance de rencontrer des personnes belles, géniales, et absolument fantastiques.

Et en plus, le truc génial quand tu es si jeune et déjà à la fac, c'est que je peux absolument tout foirer, repartir de zéro, et cette fois mon âge sera dans la norme.

A lesson in doing

A lesson that I've learned this year is that it is very easy not to do things.

Flashback to one year ago. I was finishing my last year of secondary school with grades that I didn't even dream of. I had managed to keep the school newspaper alive for two years; something that was a real battle at times. I had a little stack of film photographies and negatives that I was really proud of, a collection I patiently worked on over the two previous years. That was a new passion of mine, something I had wanted to try for a long time and finally got around doing. I had completed my sixth year of guitar classes and ended the year playing several shows with a band that included my brother. I had even succeeded in making fantastic friends, after several years of trying and failing at friendship.

The principal way in which this first year of university was so bizarre is that it was so empty compared to my high-school years. I got carried away and forgot all the things I was given the chance to do everyday. I stayed hours in, catching up on two years+ of TV shows, instead of being out exploring, tasting and talking.

I have no regrets, though. There might have been other ways for me to handle change but this way worked, it was fine, and I enjoyed it. Now, thinking about the things I did not do, and the things I find myself missing today, I realise that I need to make the effort.

I need to put myself out there and do things. I miss reading. I miss taking my film cameras out. I miss playing music. It's easy to get stuck into a routine of not doing. But taking the time to do the things you love is much more rewarding. One can't afford to be lazy when there's only one life to live.

I didn't only watch TV shows, though. I suppose I've been productive in some other areas. For starters, this blog is a thing that happened. This is my 67th post! I was afraid it might turn out to be "one of my blogs," another that I start, all eager, then forget pretty quickly. Also, I started vlogging, and although it hasn't be publicised that much on here, it's been going swell!

Should we say that I suffer from overflowing creativity and that I should yet broaden my range of outputs to take care of it? Is the problem that I can't focus on only one thing but need to be doing all the things at once? All I'm sure is that I've got so many ideas, all the time. There are lists of projects in my planner and notebooks just waiting for me to get on board. So I must keep in mind that having an idea is just the beginning.

One needs a spark to make a fire, but one also needs wood and some watching. I've been careless and now, my sparks are all over the place. It's about time I get myself back on things and make a damn beautiful fire.

***

S'il y a une leçon que j'ai apprise cette année, c'est qu'il est extrêmement facile de ne pas faire.

Flashback, il y a un an. Je finissais ma dernière année d'étude secondaires avec des notes que je n'aurais même pas imaginées en rêve. J'avais réussi à ce que le journal du lycée survive durant deux ans ; un vrai combat. J'avais un petit stock de photos argentiques et de négatifs dont j'étais vraiment fière, une collection résultant de deux ans de travail. C'était une toute nouvelle passion, une chose que j'avais eu envie d'essayer pendant des années et à laquelle je m'étais enfin attelée. J'avais fini ma sixième année de cours de guitare par plusieurs concerts avec un groupe dont mon frère faisait également partie. J'avais même enfin réussi à me faire des amis fantastiques, avec plusieurs années d'essais ratés.

La raison principale qui a rendu cette année de fac si bizarre, c'est qu'elle a été terriblement vide comparée à mes années lycée. Je me suis laissée emporter et j'ai perdu de vue toutes les possibilités que j'avais. J'ai passé des heures dans ma chambre, à rattraper plus de deux années de retard en séries, plutôt que d'être dehors à explorer, savourer et discuter.

Je n'ai cependant pas de regrets. Il y aurait peut-être eu d'autres façons pour moi de gérer le changement, mais j'ai trouvé un rythme qui me convenait, tout s'est bien passé, et j'ai passé une année géniale. Mais maintenant que je pense aux choses que je n'ai pas faites, et aux activités qui me manquent, je réalise qu'il ne tient qu'à moi de faire l'effort.

Il faut que je m'y mette et que j'agisse. Lire me manque. Partir en expéditions photo avec mes appareils argentiques me manque. Jouer de la musique me manque. C'est trop facile de rester coincé dans une routine vide. Prendre le temps de faire les choses qu'on aime est bien plus enrichissant. On ne peut pas se permettre d'être paresseux quand on a qu'une vie.

Bon, je n'ai quand même pas fait que regarder la télé. Je suppose qu'on peut dire que j'ai été productive dans certains domaines. Pour commencer, ce blog a vu le jour. Ce post est le soixante-septième ! J'avais peur qu'il ne devienne qu'un blog de plus, un que je crée, pleine d'enthousiasme, puis oublie aussi vite. Je me suis aussi mise aux vlogs, et bien que je n'en ai pas beaucoup parlé ici, ça se passe super bien !

Est-ce que je souffre en fait d'une créativité débordante et qu'il faut que j'élargisse mes activités pour la contenir ? Ou est-ce que le problème vient d'une incapacité à ne me concentrer que sur un projet à la fois ? La seule chose dont je suis sûre, c'est que j'ai constamment des dizaines et des dizaines d'idées. J'ai des listes de projets dans mon agenda et mes carnets qui n'attendent que moi. Il faut que je me rappelle qu'avoir une idée n'est que la première étape.

Pour faire un feu, il faut d'abord une étincelle, mais aussi du bois et de l'attention. J'ai négligé mes étincelles, et maintenant elles se sont envolées. Il est temps de se remotiver et de faire une putain de belle flambée.




Train rides this year/Voyages en train cette année : 16.
Last TV show episode watched/Dernier épisode de série regardé : Parks and Recreation S03E14 YES AGAIN BUT THE KISS, MAN, THE KISS