Here we go then

1. Chain letters, blogfolks. They’re pretty much an international plague, you know; we have them in France, too, and they also have spelling mistakes. In 1979 I was traumatized by the threat of the Evil Eye if I didn’t it pass on to 13 friends; in 1998 I declined to forward one on, along with my underwear size, in spite of the promise of 5 brand new pair of knickers. There has been countless others, but some friends still haven’t caught on to the fact that I’m not superstitious, and they keep sending them.

2. Memes, blogfolks. Is there such a word anyway? The little paperclip dude from Microsoft word doesn’t think so, and somehow I’ve learnt to trust his judgment.
On the other hand, If you add two acute accents as such: mémés, then it means Grannies, and that’s rather cute.

3. I think I was ‘tagged’ once and I obliged, because I was ill that day. And look! Blogfolks, I’m ill today too, stuck at home coughing and spluttering and feeling sorry for my pyjamad, flat-haired self. So let me valiantly grab 30-something’s mémé, breathe in, and try come up with something. Just because I like her, but don’t tell her that.


Four jobs you've had in your life: err. Youth camp leader. I don’t even like the youth. Clerk in a bank, me in an office with an obsessive hunter. Archivist person in a bank, me in an office with a married guy who wrote me a poem every day. International porn smuggler. Only one of those is a lie.

Four movies you could watch over and over: Delicatessen. All about my mother. Debbie does Dallas. Le père Noèl est une ordure. Only one of those is a lie.

Four places you've lived: much more south than here, then much more north, as well as near a river, and in a cave. Only one of those is a lie.

Four TV shows you love to watch: The L-word. Queer eye for the straight guy. I can’t think of anything else.

Four places you've been on vacation: Barcelona, San Francisco, Skala Eressou, Djerba. It’s all true, and not even remotely interesting.

Four websites you visit daily: Libération, Overheard in new york, as well as various blogs.

Four of your favourite foods: rare steak, tomatoes, rye bread, goat cheese.

Four places you'd rather be: somewhere bigger, wider, warmer, with a breeze and no headache.

Four albums you can't live without: Bebe, Pafuera telarañas(ay ay ay, mujer) ; Camille, Le fil; Placebo, Without you I’m nothing; Noir Désir, Des visages des figures.

Four to pass this mémé along to: well, if they have too much time on their hands or are stuck at home feeling ill, Sortof, Kiera and anyone else who may wish to do so and hasn’t yet, because, well, it’s been around. Good ole mémé.

I think I may have a fever.