<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694</id><updated>2011-11-19T07:41:43.776-08:00</updated><category term='amitié'/><category term='mood of the moment'/><category term='hypocrisie'/><category term='job'/><category term='citations'/><category term='lyrics'/><title type='text'>Present Imperfect</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-7638702889902939491</id><published>2011-11-19T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T07:41:43.813-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citations'/><title type='text'>Mephisto's Cafe</title><content type='html'>And I knew you when you were you &lt;br /&gt;Before they twisted all your views &lt;br /&gt;Before you came unglued&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Streetlight Manifesto&lt;br /&gt;Down, Down, Down To Mephisto's Cafe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-7638702889902939491?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7638702889902939491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/mephistos-cafe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/7638702889902939491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/7638702889902939491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/11/mephistos-cafe.html' title='Mephisto&apos;s Cafe'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-8173643415346750695</id><published>2011-05-07T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T18:00:32.786-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><title type='text'>Green Fields Of France</title><content type='html'>- Eric Bogle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, how do you do, Private William McBride, &lt;br /&gt;Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside? &lt;br /&gt;And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun, &lt;br /&gt;I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done. &lt;br /&gt;And I see by your gravestone you were only 19 &lt;br /&gt;When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916, &lt;br /&gt;Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean &lt;br /&gt;Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly? &lt;br /&gt;Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down? &lt;br /&gt;Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus? &lt;br /&gt;Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind &lt;br /&gt;In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined? &lt;br /&gt;And, though you died back in 1916, &lt;br /&gt;To that loyal heart are you forever 19? &lt;br /&gt;Or are you a stranger without even a name, &lt;br /&gt;Forever enshrined behind some glass pane, &lt;br /&gt;In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained, &lt;br /&gt;And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun's shining down on these green fields of France; &lt;br /&gt;The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance. &lt;br /&gt;The trenches have vanished long under the plow; &lt;br /&gt;No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now. &lt;br /&gt;But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land &lt;br /&gt;The countless white crosses in mute witness stand &lt;br /&gt;To man's blind indifference to his fellow man. &lt;br /&gt;And a whole generation who were butchered and damned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride, &lt;br /&gt;Do all those who lie here know why they died? &lt;br /&gt;Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?" &lt;br /&gt;Did you really believe that this war would end wars? &lt;br /&gt;Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame &lt;br /&gt;The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain, &lt;br /&gt;For Willie McBride, it all happened again, &lt;br /&gt;And again, and again, and again, and again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-8173643415346750695?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8173643415346750695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/green-fields-of-france.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8173643415346750695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8173643415346750695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/05/green-fields-of-france.html' title='Green Fields Of France'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-8998763253645714463</id><published>2011-02-11T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T12:25:27.636-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citations'/><title type='text'>Réponses</title><content type='html'>"The only interesting answers are those which destroy the questions." &lt;br /&gt;~Susan Sontag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-8998763253645714463?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8998763253645714463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/02/reponses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8998763253645714463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8998763253645714463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2011/02/reponses.html' title='Réponses'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-5629866883281941161</id><published>2010-06-26T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T18:01:31.264-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citations'/><title type='text'>lyrics</title><content type='html'>Si tu pouvais mourir&lt;br /&gt;Je t'aimerais cent fois pire&lt;br /&gt;Si tu pouvais t'éteindre à jamais &lt;br /&gt;J'aurais faim , j'aurais soif &lt;br /&gt;J'aurais froid et chaud&lt;br /&gt;Comme un p'tit vent blanc&lt;br /&gt;Libre, triste et content&lt;br /&gt;Et content...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"La Joyeuse"&lt;br /&gt;Keith Kouna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/keithkouna"&gt;Keith Kouna on Myspace&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-5629866883281941161?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5629866883281941161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/06/lyrics.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/5629866883281941161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/5629866883281941161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/06/lyrics.html' title='lyrics'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-3051507110720904790</id><published>2010-03-27T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T19:33:27.838-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hypocrisie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood of the moment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ya des fois où vraiment, j'hais ma job. Et dire que pour le public général, c'est supposé être une job de rêve. HA! La joke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je devrais écrire un essai sur l'hypocrisie dans ma compagnie et mon domaine un jour. ça serait surement très libérateur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En tout cas, c'est pas la joie ces temps-ci. J'ai jamais autant pensé à quitter ma job. S'rait peut-être le temps pour un retour à l'école?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non, je pense pas faire ça toute ma vie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-3051507110720904790?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3051507110720904790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/ya-des-fois-ou-vraiment-jhais-ma-job.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/3051507110720904790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/3051507110720904790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/ya-des-fois-ou-vraiment-jhais-ma-job.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-8313861594769434213</id><published>2009-12-14T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T17:49:33.058-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citations'/><title type='text'>How Do You Feel?</title><content type='html'>Everything comes back to you, it never fades away.&lt;br /&gt;The poison keeps running through your veins.&lt;br /&gt;A ripple goes around the world and comes back as a wave.&lt;br /&gt;You´ll be judged by every word you say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most people have to struggle to keep their sanity,&lt;br /&gt;no one needs your negativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you always criticize and tell those selfish lies?&lt;br /&gt;Do you feel better for it - what's the deal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;How do you feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;[How Do You Feel? - Die Toten Hosen]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-8313861594769434213?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8313861594769434213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/12/how-do-you-feel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8313861594769434213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8313861594769434213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/12/how-do-you-feel.html' title='How Do You Feel?'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-6519963374779655012</id><published>2009-09-12T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T20:40:14.316-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citations'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When we fight each other it puts all of them at ease&lt;br /&gt;it keeps us so busy, so they can do what they please&lt;br /&gt;election time comes and they're out for votes&lt;br /&gt;that's when you see and hear from them the most&lt;br /&gt;this is what they're calling a democracy&lt;br /&gt;that's just another word for hypocrisy&lt;br /&gt;we keep fallin' for the bait&lt;br /&gt;when we realize, it's always too late&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just Look Around" Lyrics&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-6519963374779655012?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6519963374779655012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-we-fight-each-other-it-puts-all-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/6519963374779655012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/6519963374779655012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/when-we-fight-each-other-it-puts-all-of.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-2827030471530857638</id><published>2009-08-11T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:07:51.142-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood of the moment'/><title type='text'>J'en ai marre, encore</title><content type='html'>J'en ai marre de dépendre des autres dans ma job.&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre d'attendre après eux.&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre des changements de dernière minute.&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre des changements insignifiants.&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre en plus d'être frustrée pour ces niaiseries-là.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour quoi tout doit toujours être compliqué?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;criss que chu écoeurée&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-2827030471530857638?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2827030471530857638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/jen-ai-marre-encore.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/2827030471530857638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/2827030471530857638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/jen-ai-marre-encore.html' title='J&apos;en ai marre, encore'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-237158299036608910</id><published>2009-07-10T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T18:15:23.047-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hypocrisie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amitié'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tu te prétends un ami&lt;br /&gt;Puis tu critiques ma personnalité quand ça ne fait pas ton affaire.&lt;br /&gt;[Hypocrite]&lt;br /&gt;Tu dis que tu aimes parler avec moi&lt;br /&gt;Puis que je n'ai pas assez de temps pour toi&lt;br /&gt;[Hypocrite]&lt;br /&gt;Tu t'enorgueilles d'être galant&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu ne me respectes pas&lt;br /&gt;[Hypocrite]&lt;br /&gt;Tu affirmes faire preuve de respect&lt;br /&gt;Mais tu me mets de côté&lt;br /&gt;[Hypocrite]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai toujours cru que l'amitié ça devait être simple. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pourtant j'ai compris cette semaine que pour certains, ça n'allait pas de soit.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Un collègue de travail m'a fait une crise, car apparemment je lui dit toutjours non quand il veut faire une activité après la job. Il semble que si je me sens pas sociable un soir, ça devrait pas compter, car je serais en bonne compagnie avec lui.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ben j'ai des petites nouvelles pour toi mon GRAND.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Les crises dans le genre, tu peux oublier ça avec moi. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Surtout après 2 fois.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;DÉCALISSE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;J'ai pas de temps à perdre avec ton immaturité.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Si té pas capable d'accepter ma personalité telle quelle, passe ton chemin.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pas sociable&lt;em&gt; signifie qu'à ce moment là, je veux voir personne, pas plus toi qu'un autre. C'est pas personnel, c'est juste comme ça que sont les choses.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;À partir de maintenant, t'auras pu de "refus à essuyer" de ma part. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ton égo est sauf.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mon amitié tu peux l'oublier.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-237158299036608910?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/237158299036608910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/tu-te-pretends-un-ami-puis-tu-critiques.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/237158299036608910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/237158299036608910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/tu-te-pretends-un-ami-puis-tu-critiques.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-581210266397962921</id><published>2009-06-23T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T16:19:26.505-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood of the moment'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Non, mais y'a des ces jours où je me sens socialement incompétente. Bon je dois avouer que ça m'arrive souvent, mais il y a des jours comme aujourd'hui, où ce sentiment est exacerbé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je n'ai aucun don pour les relations humaines, quelles qu'elles soient. C'est ainsi depuis tellement longtemps que je ne sais plus si c'est un comportement acquis ou inné.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est par des soirs comme aujoud'hui, alors que plein de gens ont des plans pour la soirée, que je me rencontre de ce manque chez moi; alors que je me retrouve toute seule, malgré le soleil  qui brille.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-581210266397962921?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/581210266397962921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/non-mais-ya-des-ces-jours-ou-je-me-sens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/581210266397962921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/581210266397962921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/non-mais-ya-des-ces-jours-ou-je-me-sens.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-5254999446307301192</id><published>2009-06-06T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T20:56:52.882-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hypocrisie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood of the moment'/><title type='text'>Bande de licheux arrogants</title><content type='html'>J'en ai marre de ces licheux arrogants&lt;br /&gt;De ces imposteurs parvenus&lt;br /&gt;De ses bourgeois condescendants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre des égoîstes finis&lt;br /&gt;Des hypocrites de première&lt;br /&gt;Des bien-pensant assoupis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amenez-moi de l'hérésie&lt;br /&gt;Je veux du chaos&lt;br /&gt;Des débats&lt;br /&gt;De la frénésie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;À tous ces connards hypocrites&lt;br /&gt;À qui le système profite&lt;br /&gt;Peu importe ce qu'on en dise&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-5254999446307301192?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5254999446307301192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/bande-de-licheux-arrogants.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/5254999446307301192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/5254999446307301192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/bande-de-licheux-arrogants.html' title='Bande de licheux arrogants'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-8990756904266729007</id><published>2009-05-26T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T16:59:52.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><title type='text'>Proactivité et autres conneries</title><content type='html'>Aujourd'hui, je me vide le coeur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou plutôt devrais-je dire ce soir, car il est plus de 23h. Je suis rentrée du boulot depuis peu, après un 3h de temps supplémentaire qui me sera PEUT-ÊTRE remboursé en fin de projet si j'ai de la chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J'en ai marre d'une industrie qui demande sans cesse plus sans rien donner en retour.&lt;br /&gt;Jour après jour c'est : évaluation, rendement, compétences, proactivité, implication, productivité.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aujourd'hui, un message de notre boss disant qu'il s'attendait à ce que tous les membres de l'équipe donnent leurs impressions et critiques sur le projet en cours et ce, au moins une fois chaque livrable. (OK)  Et que nous serions évalués en conséquence. (Fantastique)  Comme si toutes nos évaluations annuelles ne nous demandaient déjà pas de vous impliquer, d'agir, et de faire preuve de proactivité.  (Je HAÏS ce mot à la mode profondément)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'est bien beau comme concept, mais où je prend le temps pour m'acquiter de cette tâche?&lt;br /&gt;Dans mes temps libres? Sur mon heure de lunch?&lt;br /&gt;Non mais va chier!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On est mardi et j'ai déjà 5h de temps supp de faites. C'est sans compter la semaine dernière.&lt;br /&gt;Je suis là après les heures normales par choix, pour améliorer ce qui est demandé.&lt;br /&gt;Et on ose demander encore plus, alors que les temps alloués pour nos tâches fondent et les attentes de qualité augmentent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De plus en plus, j'ai l'impression que mon industrie est presque une secte.&lt;br /&gt;Nos critères d'évaluation annuelle nous demandent de nous impliquer dans tous les paliers de notre projet, de tout connaître de notre industrie et des dernières nouveautés, de nous former et d'élargir nos champs de compétences en dehors de nos heures de travail. Parfois, j'ai l'impression que pour être parfait dans cette industrie, il faudrait ne vivre que pour ça, et que chaque minute de notre temps devrait y être dédiée. Si ta vie ne tourne pas tout autour de ce domaine, tu n'as pas ta place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bon j'exagère probablement un peu. Je suis fatiguée et à bout.&lt;br /&gt;Je continuerai ça un autre jour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-8990756904266729007?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8990756904266729007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/proactivite-et-autres-conneries.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8990756904266729007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/8990756904266729007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/proactivite-et-autres-conneries.html' title='Proactivité et autres conneries'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-6370203568276630266</id><published>2009-05-23T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T17:30:23.276-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood of the moment'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parfois, je voudrais briser quelque chose de beau.&lt;br /&gt;Pour me convraincre que rien ne peut être si parfait.&lt;br /&gt;Casser, écraser, saboter, haîr , détruire.&lt;br /&gt;Finir debout, beauté délâbrée à mes pieds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-6370203568276630266?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6370203568276630266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/parfois-je-voudrais-briser-quelque.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/6370203568276630266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/6370203568276630266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/parfois-je-voudrais-briser-quelque.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8437710692571538694.post-4191472472095571421</id><published>2009-04-28T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T16:31:13.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About this blog</title><content type='html'>So here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got this blog I was thinking about for some time now. I will use this space to write about me, people I know, to bitch about things that infuriates me, fears,  anxieties and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this space will not be totally wasted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8437710692571538694-4191472472095571421?l=presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4191472472095571421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/about-this-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/4191472472095571421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8437710692571538694/posts/default/4191472472095571421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://presentimperfectlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/about-this-blog.html' title='About this blog'/><author><name>monica</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
