I am too nice. And it's getting worse with age.

I have just completed an internship at a PR company last week, and I have to say, I don't really know what to think. There's one vital thing in a job that I think PR sorely lack, and that is creativity. When I got the position I was somewhat hoping I would encounter a vocational illumination somewhere down the track. I did, to the extent that I now know what I don't want in a job.

Many social truths have come to light during those six months, and I shall remember them next time I venture into a professional environnement where 80% of the people you work with are women. I have noticed that when men work together as a team, there is that wonderful energy that flows between them, as if they were aligned on a common ambition.

When women work together. It gets more complicated.

The PR consultant I have been working with hired me because I am bilingual. She knows a little English, but not enough to sustain a conversation or write an e-mail without the help of a translator, be it a live one or an electronic one. She may be a senior consultant, and I, a simple intern, but there is one thing that made working with her very difficult: I was her missing competence, and she was more than determined to not let that show too much.

I am an incredibly obliging and focused person whenever constructive work is involved. I have been more nice and patient with her than I thought I could possibly be with anyone, yet I never saw any sincere reciprocation in her attitude. It is well-known that interns in France get a ridiculously low pay and we are given the most dreadful, tasks to do, so a little appreciation, I think, is not so much to ask.

My Deamon

They Say It All Started With An Apple

Whatever religious or non-religious affiliation you belong to, you might have heard of the story of Adam and Eve. Chances are that you have been bombarded with so many fables and myths about Creation there is probably little you have retained from any of them, at the exception of a vivid mental picture of two naked patriarchs with vine leaves covering their intimate parts, the woman being the one to carry the obnoxious fruit that will cause centuries and centuries of sins of all sorts. From Durer to Cranach to Rubens to the opening credits of Desperate Housewives, it's everywhere.

This fruit, a red, luscious, juicy apple, has been proven in recent years to be a great source of fibre, vitamins, and chemicals that could help you protect your body from neurodegenerative diseases and cancer. Talk about confusing information. The very fruit that symbolizes the mortal sin, namely the one for which we have all become mortals, actually contributes to our health and longevity. Are you not amused? I can be for two.

There have been so many cultural and intellectual paradoxes since Man has been able to put his fruitful thoughts and researches on paper you might wonder what vision of life is the most accurate, which one you could stick to forever without fearing to one day feel the ground shaking under you. Whichever perspective you have on your own failures and achievements, whatever you think about this world and the importance of your contribution to it, remember that opinions will always exist according to standards, and because of that you can never be entirely a failure.

So next time you contemplate a lustrous, luscious-looking apple, remember that one apple a day keeps judgementalism away.

And gravity too, but Newton might disagree. Did the guy know about antioxydants?