New: I thought it looked good on Ruxor’s blog # not to ask for your nickname in the comments form when it was already saved in a cookie, so I added a few lines of code to the form. Should work. Tell me if it things are broken.

PS. I just found out the script I had uploaded didn’t work at all. Now it works at least a little.

Adaptation

I feel like skipping the short movie step, since it’s not really my thing anyway, and write a feature film right away. I just read an article about the Dangerous Liaisons adaptation that was made for French TV and was just aired this week (with Catherine Deneuve and Rupert Everett, the latter’s voice being dubbed because, hey, how could the average audience cope with Valmont having a slight British accent?) makes me want to write my own adaptation, but I guess it’s a bit too ambitious (and, besides, it’s just been done). But I could very well come back to the couple of ideas I have in store—among which are some other book adaptations.

So right now this is what I’m wondering: If I spend some time writing a script, and if it’s good (it would obviously have to be, because I’m gifted, as you all know), would it really be possible to sell it? I’m not even expecting anyone to let me direct the movie, but just to buy my script. (You’ll note I have given up on the thought of producing it and directing it myself. That’s because I find it a bit unrealistic for a feature film. Maybe if I had a bunch of would-be actors and techniciens for friends, but I don’t. Anyway.)

You know how I like to believe that coincidences don’t exist (and yes, I know that will kill me; but, on the other hand, it’ll be part of the themes making my Immortal Oeuvre what it’ll be, so please don’t throw those snide comments at me when it’s obvious you just don’t know anything about Art). As it happens, the reader I met a few months ago (I’m not sure I told you about that—maybe I was right not to, by the way, because I wouldn’t want you to think there’s any kind of remote possibility of meeting me at all) told me about a friend of his who had written a script, and was offered a big load of money by some producers. I’m not even asking for a load of money, but just an open door. Oh well, and a bit of money too. So… maybe it’d be possible? I never really thought about it that way.

Now I have to decide which story I could write first. I have lost enough time as it is, I’m not going to write three scripts simultaneously.

There you go, the new version is online. If it looks broken, reload completely and make sure the stylesheet is reloaded too. The change isn’t dramatic, the format has stayed, as I said it would, but I got rid of the oppressive dark background on both sides of the text. As a bonus, the big background image is 10 KB lighter than the previous version. Aren’t you glad?

As for the stolen icons, well… let’s say it’s temporary, until I find something better.

I finally was able to buy something thanks to the few (four, actually) pieces of clothing I sold in-world. Well, ok, it’s ugly, but at the time it seemed like a good idea.

I just found out that one of the only two people in the world who had the chance to read my short movie’s script (you know, the one I gave up on a few months ago) didn’t tell me what he thought of it because… he didn’t read it entirely. I really trust people I shouldn’t. No, that’s not true, I didn’t especially trust him, and I didn’t expect that much from him actually. It’s just that I’m very right to be completely misanthropic. Trustworthy people are… no, wait, what am I saying… people with a bare minimum of manners and politeness are appallingly rare these days (well, they’ve always been rare).

That also struck me in There. The main reason I’m unlikely to waste money in it when it goes live is not so much the economy I don’t like, but more importantly that I’m getting bored with the social aspect, because I think many of the players are uninteresting. Not all of them. But many. Just like anywhere. But my blog, Caramail or IRC are free. (Yeah, I know, technically, my blog isn’t free to me. But it could.)

This to say… what, that I hate people? Nah, not more than before. I don’t hate you. I just wish you’d quit mingling with me.

Gee, how can he be so unapolegetic about it?!

Am I going out tonight or not? I can’t decide whether I want to see aunt Cécile* or not. And since I’m afraid my fever of the last two days might be linked to the fact that my devitalized tooth got broken (I just realized that this afternoon—arg, I’ll have to go get some dentist’s hands and tools in my mouth again), I don’t know if it’d be such a good idea.

* Since the linked post is in French, let me sum it up: with the arrival in France of a couple of easy blog publication systems (even simpler than Blogger, and in French, hence more easily used) there’s a massive birth of uninteresting blogs (yeah, I know it’s subjective, I’m not launching a debate here, just explaining what I’m talking about) characterized by the fact that bloggers tell what they did today even though they did nothing at all, which is all summed up as the syndrome of dinner at aunt Cecile’s.

Well. The There beta is closed for three days, the weather isn’t too nice, and I’m not dying to go out tonight. So it’s quite possible I’d start posting here again.

And it’s just equally possible that I’d find something else to do. You never know.

— Are you a fireman or something? Because, you know, the way you walk, well, you just get noticed.

— What? A fireman? The way I walk? Uh, you… you mean that in a good way, right?

— Well, yes, of course.

O–kay. Welcome to the twilight zone. You know, I’m really beginning to feel like I spend the summer in some kind of bizarro universe where I’m a hunk, I walk like a fireman or something or whatever that means, and I can get boys I like to like me (well, that one guy in the dialogue I didn’t really fancy, but still he was young and rather good-looking), and I’m afraid that by summer’s end it will all be over and I’ll be back to my nerdy, unattractive self again. Well, it’s either that, or I just wasted the first 27 years of my life believing I was a useless spaz, when in fact all I needed was the right clothes and the right haircut and a couple months rowing and… self confidence. Yeah, that. I guess that’s what I really missed.

So this is the latest twist in the garoo’s life: I look like a fireman. A Paris fireman, mind you—you have to know that Paris firemen are famous for being particularly handsome, it’s an acknowledged fact. Now, I’m aware that the thing was basically a pick-up line, so it should be taken with caution. But it was a sincere pick-up line. Uh, wait, that doesn’t mean anything. I mean, it was said with a straight face, it wasn’t mockery, it wasn’t meant to be ridiculous, the guy just kind of meant it.

All in all, it’s positively amazing how your perception of yourself can be at the opposite of the way people see you. I’ll have to get used to the idea that I’m not that ten-year-old loser with improbable clothes and an improbable haircut that nobody saw (well, I thought I was invisible; further experience suggested that it may not have been exactly true, although I’ll never know for sure). And I’m not that 20-yo pimple-faced slightly overweight doofus either. I may actually be a young adult now, and if I weren’t home in gnawed pajamas I might have added attractive to that. What a change. In just a couple of months.

So it’s all really getting in place to accomplish the grand scheme of things, is it? Yeah, I know what I mean.

I finally found Vanilla Coke in my supermarket. Less spectacular than I expected—tastes a bit like Chupa Chups, it’s nice, but the Coke’s taste is still a bit too strong. Well, yeah, I got used to Pepsi Max, so now I can only wait for Diet Vanilla Pepsi to materialize on this side of the ocean.

Since I know you’re interested, I also bought a new pen (Pilot V-2000), because I’m a pen fetichist, but I don’t like the way this one makes me crite, together with a new deodorant (Ushuaïa Pendjab), that I’ll have to try over time; at least, it’s a deodorant for men, for a change (why are vanilla-ish deodorants only for women?).

Nah, a blog isn’t just made of uninteresting articles. Not 100% at least.

All guys are assholes. I should know, but I keep forgetting.

I have often considered my ability to forget and rediscover everything over time to be a good thing, but I wouldn’t say it applies to this.

On the other hand, if I didn’t have hope, however delusional it may be, what would I become?

(These days I try and write my posts in English first, for a change, and so that the English version is better—because otherwise it tends to look too much like a translation—but now I can’t find a French word conveying all the meaning of delusional. Well, not that you’d mind.)

I’m wondering: is there any meaning to having a blog’s archives displayed in reverse chronological order?

I’m not saying this for my blog, because in my case it works through next/previous buttons, so it would be disturbing to start reversing articles all of a sudden. But, for blogs managed through Blogger, Movable Type or whatever, where archives are grouped by month or week, wouldn’t it make more sense to display articles in chronological order? It’s not like you need to see in a glance what has just been added to the archives, since they’re archives…

D’abord les Triangolini ont arrêté d’être équilatéraux. Maintenant, ils ne sont même plus cuits. Et ensuite ? Les sachets seront vides ?

Well, no: I haven’t put up a single pound. I have eaten like a pig and not walked out of the flat for a week, and yet I haven’t any gained weight. Sometimes I really wonder how I managed to put up all those pounds I lost last year. But I remember it had been a long, regular process. And then, at the time, I had never done any kind of sports in my life. Whereas, now, I’m someone who has used a rowing machine for three months. One year and half ago. That’s something, compared to brand-new toothpastes that act for twelve hours!

It’s really terrible getting to that point. These days, I’ve got no idea, I don’t tihnk anything, I’m in complete limbo. Holidays, somehow. Except that my bank account isn’t on holidays. So it would be nice if, right now, I could have an idea that would earn me some money. You know, something, what’s it called, a… no, no, not that. Nothing, then. How do you do in this world to make some money? I know how you’re supposed to do in There, but not in here.

Feels weird knowing that Matt has moved. I mean, real-life moved. It’s so… so something I’m not going to do any time soon. I’m jealous. And then, he’s still there, in his little ICQ window, in the exact same spot on my screen as before. So his life hasn’t changed that much, has it? It would show, if it had. What’s that fuss about moving all about, then, if it doesn’t change the most basic stuff in life?

It has to be when I don’t have a subway pass, and I’m more or less stuck in my room, that the sun finally comes back. And, additionally, both my supermarket and the web store seem to have removed Ben & Jerry’s ice creams from their catalogs.

Oh, and I still haven’t much to tell. Though, being locked home and getting bored with There’s (understandable) poor performance on dialup, I may write more this week-end. Or not.

Ping? Pong!