I got sick of writing so much, so I made some videos instead.
(Thanks for the webcam, Brittany.)
The videos are on youtube:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=7eld2M-jaQU
http://youtube.com/watch?v=xF3134i76gE
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
nothing in particular
it's been awhile since my last update...
is kind of a meta statement--too self-referential to be really meaningful.
so that's not how i will open this post
I can't believe I'm leaving Paris so soon--1.5 weeks, and I'm back in NYC, back in school, in a world so totally different from the one I now inhabit that i can barely comprehend it. Change is an interesting thing--sometimes we yearn for it, want nothing more than a change of scenery, are totally ready to plow into the unknown and experience something completely different, no matter what it may bring. Other times, like scared children, we cling to the present, or the past, unwilling to release the bird in our grip for the potential two in the brush.
Change is the genesis of transformation.
The only real question is, "are you ready?"
And the answer, as always, is elusive.
__________
All of my friends went on vacation at pretty much the same time, leaving me in a bit of a difficult spot. A social person, I feel somehow empty inside--maybe the word is lonely--when i don't have others around to share my experience with. Being suddenly without the group of friends I hang out with primarily makes me feel somewhat confused. Too often, my entire identity is defined by how other's perceive me. WIthout that mirror to hold myself up to, without others to communicate with, it's almost as if I don't really exist at all...
Of course that's not literally true. I continue to think, to be, even to strive. But when the meaning my actions contain is only the meaning I assign to them, it's as if the cup is half empty.
If hell is merely other people, then heaven is, too.
__________
I went out tonight with Chris, a friend I met recently, and who just moved to Paris 13 days ago. He's trying to get a job, but the French code makes it very difficult for a non-EU worker to get a work visa, so he might have to move back to Berlin if he can't find an employer who's willing to help him get one. We got a couple beers and talked Philosophy while sitting in the courtyard outside of the Centre George Pompidou, then went to an Irish pub for a couple pints of Guiness.
I spoke English with someone for a change, and got into topics so abstract that they are really impossible to communicate in a language one isn't fluent in. I found it refreshing to have an intellectual conversation with another person who was just engaged in it as I was. It's always a recurring theme for me--the best times I can remember all involve one other person, and an infinite number of ridiculous tangents going off into no-one-knows-where, in-depth examination of the very world in which we immerse ourselves. Thinking back, it makes me nostalgic for similar times I've shared with friends in the past.
__________
Well, this has turned into a bit of a silly post, with lots of nonsensical introspection and not much content.
Cheers.
is kind of a meta statement--too self-referential to be really meaningful.
so that's not how i will open this post
I can't believe I'm leaving Paris so soon--1.5 weeks, and I'm back in NYC, back in school, in a world so totally different from the one I now inhabit that i can barely comprehend it. Change is an interesting thing--sometimes we yearn for it, want nothing more than a change of scenery, are totally ready to plow into the unknown and experience something completely different, no matter what it may bring. Other times, like scared children, we cling to the present, or the past, unwilling to release the bird in our grip for the potential two in the brush.
Change is the genesis of transformation.
The only real question is, "are you ready?"
And the answer, as always, is elusive.
__________
All of my friends went on vacation at pretty much the same time, leaving me in a bit of a difficult spot. A social person, I feel somehow empty inside--maybe the word is lonely--when i don't have others around to share my experience with. Being suddenly without the group of friends I hang out with primarily makes me feel somewhat confused. Too often, my entire identity is defined by how other's perceive me. WIthout that mirror to hold myself up to, without others to communicate with, it's almost as if I don't really exist at all...
Of course that's not literally true. I continue to think, to be, even to strive. But when the meaning my actions contain is only the meaning I assign to them, it's as if the cup is half empty.
If hell is merely other people, then heaven is, too.
__________
I went out tonight with Chris, a friend I met recently, and who just moved to Paris 13 days ago. He's trying to get a job, but the French code makes it very difficult for a non-EU worker to get a work visa, so he might have to move back to Berlin if he can't find an employer who's willing to help him get one. We got a couple beers and talked Philosophy while sitting in the courtyard outside of the Centre George Pompidou, then went to an Irish pub for a couple pints of Guiness.
I spoke English with someone for a change, and got into topics so abstract that they are really impossible to communicate in a language one isn't fluent in. I found it refreshing to have an intellectual conversation with another person who was just engaged in it as I was. It's always a recurring theme for me--the best times I can remember all involve one other person, and an infinite number of ridiculous tangents going off into no-one-knows-where, in-depth examination of the very world in which we immerse ourselves. Thinking back, it makes me nostalgic for similar times I've shared with friends in the past.
__________
Well, this has turned into a bit of a silly post, with lots of nonsensical introspection and not much content.
Cheers.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Another Post from Paris
[Repost from http://leitnerinterns.blogpost.com]
Every day I come into work, it seems that the world has changed a little more, and I must revise the report I am preparing for the 2008 IT Outlook. Due to the nature of my project, the subject of my research is in constant flux. I feel like I am living on the cutting edge of the technological world as I continue to research the newest developments in the ICT industry and attempt to frame them in a way that will make sense, and will be valuable, to the many policy makers who will be reading my piece once it is published. Although I often wish I were more at the heart of things, doing substantial work rather than simply reporting on what others have done, there is something refreshing about working for an organization like the OECD, and knowing that what I do helps the reality of the world percolate up to those who are currently in a position to recognize trends and embrace change.
The past few weeks have been a bit trying--when I first started at OECD, I had two bosses, both of whom were very friendly, but which made me feel a bit uncertain about who to report to, and how to prioritize the tasks I was given. Since then, one of them has gone on paternity leave(congrats on your baby, Sacha!), and the other, a few weeks later, on vacation. Since last Monday, I have been totally unsupervised, as not only my bosses, but at least half of the OECD staff has gone on a month long break that occurs virtually everywhere in Paris during the month of August. Finding my own direction and continuing to produce my paper without the support of those far more knowledgable than me has been an interesting experience, but so far I feel confident that I'm on the right path towards completing my project. For all the long hours and constant revisions, it's nice to reflect and realize that I'm getting something done.
For those of you who prefer visual stimulus to mere words, here's a picture of La Défense(where the OECD offices are) as seen off in the distance, from my apartment. At the end of a long day, it seems somehow fitting that all I see when I look out my window is the place I work.
Every day I come into work, it seems that the world has changed a little more, and I must revise the report I am preparing for the 2008 IT Outlook. Due to the nature of my project, the subject of my research is in constant flux. I feel like I am living on the cutting edge of the technological world as I continue to research the newest developments in the ICT industry and attempt to frame them in a way that will make sense, and will be valuable, to the many policy makers who will be reading my piece once it is published. Although I often wish I were more at the heart of things, doing substantial work rather than simply reporting on what others have done, there is something refreshing about working for an organization like the OECD, and knowing that what I do helps the reality of the world percolate up to those who are currently in a position to recognize trends and embrace change.
The past few weeks have been a bit trying--when I first started at OECD, I had two bosses, both of whom were very friendly, but which made me feel a bit uncertain about who to report to, and how to prioritize the tasks I was given. Since then, one of them has gone on paternity leave(congrats on your baby, Sacha!), and the other, a few weeks later, on vacation. Since last Monday, I have been totally unsupervised, as not only my bosses, but at least half of the OECD staff has gone on a month long break that occurs virtually everywhere in Paris during the month of August. Finding my own direction and continuing to produce my paper without the support of those far more knowledgable than me has been an interesting experience, but so far I feel confident that I'm on the right path towards completing my project. For all the long hours and constant revisions, it's nice to reflect and realize that I'm getting something done.
For those of you who prefer visual stimulus to mere words, here's a picture of La Défense(where the OECD offices are) as seen off in the distance, from my apartment. At the end of a long day, it seems somehow fitting that all I see when I look out my window is the place I work.
New Thoughts on Old Themes
Went to a party at Place Clichy. Arthur's flat. I had never been there before, but went after having a few drinks with Clement, his girlfriend Angel, and Yohann, who is one of the best guitar players I know. Arthur has a Wii, and I think we played every game on it. The only downside was that he only had one controller for some reason, so we had to alternate in order to play. I think I held my own at Wii bowling, where I teamed up with Angel and we won, and also Wii boxing. I didn't do so bad for having played only once before. I kept asking to play Super Smash Bros.(the Wii is backwards-compatible with Gamecube games), but Arthur kept saying we could after the next game. Thus, we played Wii sports all night long.
I also learned how to say "I don't care" about a million different ways. The most formal is "je n'ai que faire de ces sottisses." There's also "je m'en fiche," "je m'en tappe," and "je m'en fou," as well as "je m'en balincouie," which is considered extremely vulgar and should therefore not be used around anyone who is faint of heart, or coworkers, if it can be avoided. I'm not sure about the spelling of any of them, and I'm only slightly more certain of the pronunciation. French is hard.
I walked home alone, and was happy to find my way without problems. The nice thing about Paris, and what almost makes up for the fact that all the streets are crooked and change names almost every block, is that there are detailed maps on the back of almost every bus stop(except the ones that have been vandalized). Once you have a basic idea of what direction you're heading, finding your way anywhere isn't a big deal. It's kind of affirming not to get lost in Paris anymore. Like I'm really starting to know the place.
_______________
It's funny, from the moment I bought my scooter... Or even before--really, from the moment I decided I would buy a scooter, I knew that I would have an accident. And somewhow, I foresaw it happening 2/3 of the way through my summer in Paris. In August. I don't know how I knew, but I envisioned it, vividly. I thought of how pitiful I would be, laying by the road, injured and barely able to move as the rain poured down and I felt nothing but cold. My suit torn, my bones broken, adrenaline rushing through me as I tried to guess at the extent of my injuries. I feared that moment, yet somehow felt it was unavoidable. Ineluctable destiny. And at first, I drove safely. As safely as I could. I didn't lane split, or I did so only when traffic was stopped. I didn't speed. I paid close attention. I drove as if my life depended on it. I bought my scooter on June 1st, and told myself I'd avoid all etoiles, and Charles de Gaulle Etoile in particular, until at least my 25th birthday, on the 9th. And I more or less did this... Simply out of fear, I avoided every roundabout for over a week. I first entered Charles de Gaulle Etoile, a seething mass of clustered cars and chaos, the most dangerous spot of all the roads in Paris, on June 8th around 10pm, on the way to a party where I would celebrate my birthday. But after a few weeks with no incidents, and a growing awareness of how to control my vehicle, I got cocky. And then, 2 months later, out of the blue, an accident on a relatively minor road on a normal day, with the sunshine shining. Just as I thought, it wouldn't be my fault--a careless driver, not only failing to signal, but even forgetting to look where he was going as he turned suddenly. In truth, I don't know if he could have done better if he had been, in fact, trying to hit me. And quick reflexes, braking just in time, and I never even fell to the ground. I don't want to call it a miracle, but I think it was against the odds that it should play out so innocuously.
I feel lucky as all hell, and I think I've learned the lesson--from now on I must drive as if on eggshells. I must survive at least until the next round.
_________________
Here's a song: Steso Songs - The Worse
_________________
Anyways, santé to another day survived in Paris.
I also learned how to say "I don't care" about a million different ways. The most formal is "je n'ai que faire de ces sottisses." There's also "je m'en fiche," "je m'en tappe," and "je m'en fou," as well as "je m'en balincouie," which is considered extremely vulgar and should therefore not be used around anyone who is faint of heart, or coworkers, if it can be avoided. I'm not sure about the spelling of any of them, and I'm only slightly more certain of the pronunciation. French is hard.
I walked home alone, and was happy to find my way without problems. The nice thing about Paris, and what almost makes up for the fact that all the streets are crooked and change names almost every block, is that there are detailed maps on the back of almost every bus stop(except the ones that have been vandalized). Once you have a basic idea of what direction you're heading, finding your way anywhere isn't a big deal. It's kind of affirming not to get lost in Paris anymore. Like I'm really starting to know the place.
_______________
It's funny, from the moment I bought my scooter... Or even before--really, from the moment I decided I would buy a scooter, I knew that I would have an accident. And somewhow, I foresaw it happening 2/3 of the way through my summer in Paris. In August. I don't know how I knew, but I envisioned it, vividly. I thought of how pitiful I would be, laying by the road, injured and barely able to move as the rain poured down and I felt nothing but cold. My suit torn, my bones broken, adrenaline rushing through me as I tried to guess at the extent of my injuries. I feared that moment, yet somehow felt it was unavoidable. Ineluctable destiny. And at first, I drove safely. As safely as I could. I didn't lane split, or I did so only when traffic was stopped. I didn't speed. I paid close attention. I drove as if my life depended on it. I bought my scooter on June 1st, and told myself I'd avoid all etoiles, and Charles de Gaulle Etoile in particular, until at least my 25th birthday, on the 9th. And I more or less did this... Simply out of fear, I avoided every roundabout for over a week. I first entered Charles de Gaulle Etoile, a seething mass of clustered cars and chaos, the most dangerous spot of all the roads in Paris, on June 8th around 10pm, on the way to a party where I would celebrate my birthday. But after a few weeks with no incidents, and a growing awareness of how to control my vehicle, I got cocky. And then, 2 months later, out of the blue, an accident on a relatively minor road on a normal day, with the sunshine shining. Just as I thought, it wouldn't be my fault--a careless driver, not only failing to signal, but even forgetting to look where he was going as he turned suddenly. In truth, I don't know if he could have done better if he had been, in fact, trying to hit me. And quick reflexes, braking just in time, and I never even fell to the ground. I don't want to call it a miracle, but I think it was against the odds that it should play out so innocuously.
I feel lucky as all hell, and I think I've learned the lesson--from now on I must drive as if on eggshells. I must survive at least until the next round.
_________________
Here's a song: Steso Songs - The Worse
_________________
Anyways, santé to another day survived in Paris.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Scooter Accident
Coming home from work today, I had my first scooter accident, and, in general, my first motor vehicle accident in over 7 years. I was cruising down Pereire Nord behind some guy, he turned right without signalling, and I was able to slam my brakes and turn fully sideways before hitting his door. I laid down my bike, which slid a few feet and has a nice big scrape on the muffler now.
The guy got out, took a look at me, a look at his car, and we spoke for a few minutes. Since my French isn't so great, I didn't want to get into an argument with him, so I didn't bother telling him he cut me off. Instead, I just told him I and my bike were fine. He said he was too, we shook hands, and he drove off. I picked my bike up, looked around and found my bag, which had fallen out of the topcase when I crashed, and then put it back on the bike. I drove off too.
I can't believe I don't have a scratch on me, not even a tear in my pants or a scuff on my shoes. I was probably going 50 km/h, maybe slowed down to 30 before I hit him. I somehow managed to stay standing after I let go of the bike, which slid a few feet and never stopped running. I guess it's not so bad when you hit the car--I'm just glad the car didn't hit me.
And the best thing about it: I never had to fill out an accident report.
The guy got out, took a look at me, a look at his car, and we spoke for a few minutes. Since my French isn't so great, I didn't want to get into an argument with him, so I didn't bother telling him he cut me off. Instead, I just told him I and my bike were fine. He said he was too, we shook hands, and he drove off. I picked my bike up, looked around and found my bag, which had fallen out of the topcase when I crashed, and then put it back on the bike. I drove off too.
I can't believe I don't have a scratch on me, not even a tear in my pants or a scuff on my shoes. I was probably going 50 km/h, maybe slowed down to 30 before I hit him. I somehow managed to stay standing after I let go of the bike, which slid a few feet and never stopped running. I guess it's not so bad when you hit the car--I'm just glad the car didn't hit me.
And the best thing about it: I never had to fill out an accident report.
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