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(This article will be filled with pictures having absolutely nothing to do with each other whatsoever) 

September has arrived, and it was for a really long while the real beginning for the year for everyone, even more than the first of January actually, because of school starting again. Funny how I still do feel this little heart pinch at the end of August every year, even if I am working since quite a while and basically all this summer.

But this heart pinch is really here, the same one you feel when something is getting to end and you don’t really know what will happen next. A bit like at the end of December when you think about what you learned the past year, but without the feasts and parties. At the beginning of September you don’t really have the mind to party and it is a shame, it would help to swallow the pill.

September is here so, with this feeling of new and this article is actually the number 50 on this blog. It is a lot! When I opened it last year I would never had imagine I would reach this point so fast!

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Phone, street, the big misunderstanding

Another weird story, the kind we think are too much if we would see them in a movie

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(500 days of Summer, by Marc Webb)

I moved out and in at the beginning of June, with (among others) someone I met a few weeks ago. This person is named Pedro (I will write full names today, you will quickly understand why) and we had to talk a lot on the phone for obvious organizational reasons.

The day right before me moving in, I receive at work a phone call from an unknown number. Answering, I hear a man voice I cannot identify. Following my question, I get the answer “It’s Pedro”. I don’t even think about it because even if more or less 15% of Portuguese men are called this way, only one is normally having my phone number. I am busy, ask if I can call him back later, he is ok.

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FOMO : what is it? Where does it come from?

Among all troubles generated by modern life, I do believe none of them can influence us on the daily basis as FOMO can. What is FOMO? For a start it is a disgusting acronym meaning Fear of Missing out, this very common affection making us projecting mentally ourselves to another place where something else is happening than where we are right now. Disconnecting us in the meantime from what is happening to us. FOMO is helped for that by its best ally: connected smartphone.

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Partner movie of today: What if by Michael Dowse, best comedy about love and FOMO

I gave in Internet connection out of home not such a long time ago, 2 months actually, the same way I gave in smartphone itself, more or less a year and half ago, in preparation for my travel in Brazil. It was a fine excuse, I needed something to keep contact with family while not having to carry a computer with me. I discovered Whatsapp, Messenger, it was perfect. For that matter, going back to my old phone without Internet, apps or touch-sensitive screen seems impossible now, once you get to taste technology. Then thanks to programmed obsolescence, consumption is continuing.

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Nice, discreet, uncertain people: the new heroes

To R., for the idea

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(Theme-movie of today : Frances Ha by Noah Baumbach)

The less we can say is that nowadays nice people are not exactly popular within our society. Being “too nice” is often seen as an insult and “Too nice for your own good” is notoriously said about someone generous whom believes everyone else is acting the same way.

Or again “you believe you live in Care Bears world?” that we hear so much lately (at least in France), another saying to definitely shut your mouth up when you dare to believe you live in such a world, or wish you would (mind you though, the very idea of living permanently on a cloud surrounded by multicolored bears with a plastic diamond on their chest eating candies all day long seems more like Hell to me but fine).

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I mean, seriously

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Contradictory injunctions #2 : comfort zone

Here is the translation of a chronic for a paper magazine coming out every 2 months in Montpellier area in France, Le Tafeur, this one came out the 15 of April. The first one was also published on this blog so the translation will come!

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We get to hear a lot, a lot, a lot about comfort zone. Really. To a point that we start to feel guilty about it, especially when it is starting to become a bit too precise about what is it and what it is not.

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Long distance friendship

Today I would like to write about a topic that I relate very closely to. Distance. And what is often coming with it, relationships. We use to talk a lot about long-distance romantic relationships but it happens less about long-distance friendship, no matter how more often we get into them.

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(The movie-theme of today’s article is Obvious Child by Gillian Robespierre. I know it is mostly about abortion but it displays beautiful friendships too. And it is so fun)

I was lucky enough, at these times I consider it as a chance, to spend my all childhood and teenage years in the same city, quasi in the same house, with the natural consequence of friendships that are following me since more or less primary school. I never experimented the wrench, being 8 years old, to have to change city, house, school, favorite pastry shop, favorite playground, this wrench that is most probably known by kids who had parents more nomadic than mine.

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Girlfriend – a story about music and built-in sexism

I have exactly 13 days, 6 hours and 27 minutes of music on my computer. I know it may seem a bit old fashion at the time of Spotify and even more dematerialized playlists but I have to admit it is kind of comforting to know that I can enjoy it offline, to know that it is here. For that matter, it was even more comforting before, when it was available shaped as cartons full of burned CDs. Heh, no, it was mostly dusty and not really practical. You don’t take with you 15 kilos of CDs, plus the Hi Fi, every time you’re moving out and in, right?

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Anyhow, I never really did inventory in all this music I am keeping since my early teenage years, which were coinciding with the rising of peer-to-peer sharing and illegal downloads. I know there is probably a lot of this music that would not really meet my interest anymore if I would discover it today, since my ears became more educated and that I cannot accept anymore the same bullshit than before. This music that I can now admit as being shameful, I keep it though and it is sometimes ripping off my skull when, in shuffle mode, it is coming in between a Doom metal track and traditional cape-verdean song (my last obsession).

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