More vibrant

I’m happy when I can listen to music.
I listen to music most of the time (except, of course, while attending teleconferences).
Even when I sleep, music plays.

And when I use headphones (I’m the proud and satisfied owner of Sony MDR-EX71 earbuds),
this is when I am happiest and when the music is the most vibrant.

Massive attack!

I was one of the lucky thousands of people who were at the Massive Attack concert in La Pinède of Juan les Pins, FR.

The concert was *awesome*

They performed almost two hours. The sound quality was amazing for an outdoor concert (by the sea, among pine trees). The light effects were beautifully arranged to accompany their music.

They did ‘Inertia Creeps’ and I thought I’d faint ๐Ÿ˜‰ A shame that they didn’t do ‘Spying Glass’ (yup, my two favourites).

Their music made me so goosebumpy that I was cold (and it was a hot night on the riviera –28 to 30 C)

The ceremony of the telephone

There is a whole ceremonial around the telephone at my parents’, that I take a certain pleasure to witness. The time is chosen carefully, and generally well in advance. Their side of the conversation is often prepared, sometimes even rehearsed. A list of topics may be written, too. Spare paper and pencil are made available, of course. Reference material, related documents, files, copies, depending on the nature of the call, are brought in.

Before there was a cordless phone in their home, my parents would take the telephone to the living room table, as close to my mother’s papers and documents as its cord would allow, and she would place it carefully next to her notes.

Since the arrival of the cordless phone, the ceremonial of the telepone takes place in the living room for business matters, or in the kitchen for personal matters.

In any case, my mum and dad sit next to each other. In any case, the loudspeaker is on. More often than not, my mum does the talking ๐Ÿ˜‰ It’s funny how loud she speaks when she’s on the phone. She denies speaking louder, of course ๐Ÿ˜‰

I’m not such a phone person myself. I seldom place phone calls, sometimes fail to return them (bad me). People are kind enough with me to not bear grudges.

I’ve had my current cellphone for two years and a half and here are the duration counts:

  Received calls' duration: 47:57:54
  Dialled calls' duration:  50:06:24

It’s a little late now and I’m a tad tired (and I suck at maths, granted), but I think that amounts to about 3 minutes per day. Heh, not that bad, after all.

paper–

I hate paper. I love books. It’s the one waste of paper that I agree with. But I really dislike paper letters (except for love letters, of course), pamphlets, brochures, junkmail and so on.

In May 2004, I think, I stopped opening my personal mail. It piled. I sorted it by sender or categories. I trashed what was junk every now and then. At the end of the year I moved. I brought my piles of mail with me. I got more mail and I stored it. Later I moved. I brought my piles with me. I sorted again. Every now and then I needed something that had been sent to me. I spent a fair share looking in boxes and piles, or suitcases for that very pile of mail I thought I’d find what I was looking for. I lost documents, naturally.

Since I stopped opening my mail, I have moved 6 or 7 times. My piles always followed me. Piles in a box, more piles bundled in files, others in plastic bags, and of course some piles are in plastic bags that are bundled in files that are in boxes. If only I remembered where these were…

One of these days I will do like I said: find them, open them, sort them, be a good girl. Then, I’ll have to open them as they come.

My company is fortunate I’m a good girl when I treat business mail.