Sunday, November 21, 2010

Plagiat : pourquoi ne pas utiliser une formule gagnante ;-) !

Coupable. Je plaide coupable à l'absence, au manque de discipline et d'assiduité. Je n'ai pas rédigé de billet personnel depuis le mois de juillet. Je vous épargne mes raisons. Je prononce une demande de pardon. Ceci étant dit, passons à l'action.


J'appelle une autre personne au banc des coupables. Une soit-disant professionnelle coupable de plagiat. "Ton courriel était génial… pourquoi ne pas utiliser une formule gagnante ;-)! " Parce que, entre autres, tu es payée pour publier un texte qu'une autre personne a écrit, parce que tu ne me cites pas comme auteure et parce que tu ne mentionnes même pas mon nom comme source d'inspiration. Cette personne étais certainement absente le jour où l'intégrité a été distribuée. Par contre, elle devait très certainement être assise au premier rang le jour de la remise de l'effronterie.


J'ai fait une montée de lait vendredi passé sur Twitter. Je pensais que mes 140 caractères passeraient comme un couteau dans du beurre; que je donnais simplement un coup d'épée dans l'eau qui laisserait sortir la vapeur de ma marmite. Mais mon épée semble avoir piqué d'autres auteurs dans leur sensibilité créatrice! Ainsi, il n'y a pas seulement moi qui apprécie la reconnaissance, la droiture et la justice. Ce qui va à César doit être rendu à César. Même sous prétexte que "c'est une formule gagnante". À tous ceux qui ont réagi à ma montée de lait, je dis merci. Merci de votre solidarité virtuelle.


Je rédige en anglais comme en français des communiqués de presse pour une marque de la compagnie pour laquelle je travaille. Les bloggeuses qui écrivent pour leur plaisir et non pour rémunération reprennent souvent en partie ou en intégral "mes" communiqués. Les journalistes le font occasionnellement et toujours de manière beaucoup moins intégrale. Je vois une tournure de phrase reprise ici et là à l'occasion. D'une certaine façon, c'est flatteur et d'un autre côté, il n'y a pas 123 façons d'écrire que l'ingrédient-clé fait ceci ou que le rouge à lèvres est pigmenté et hydratant. L'original demeure un comuniqué de presse qui, même s'il a coulé de ma plume, est signé par une entreprise, pas une personne. Je préfère que le communiqué soit copié en intégral que de voir un faux message circuler.


Par contre, ce n'est pas tout à fait ce qui est arrivé cette fois. J'ai envoyé, à la demande de la gente dame, le communiqué de presse corporatif sur un de nos produits. Il a été recopié dans son intégralité sur le site Web qui l'embauche. Un site sérieux, tout de même. Rien d'extraordinaire à souligner. Puis je poursuis. Une ligne semble appartenir à l'auteure. Sur 17 mots dans cette ligne, 11 sont les miens. Ça sonne une petite cloche à l'interne, mais il n' a pas de quoi s'inquiéter, non? Je continue ma lecture. Ma foi! Les deux paragraphes qui suivent sortent tout droit des doigts sur mon clavier, pas du sien!


Je passe 5 minutes à comparer mon courriel et revenir au site Web. Je ne me peux plus. Je trouve qu'on a abusé de ma candeur et de ma générosité!


Comment ça s'est passé? D'abord, en me demandant le communiqué de presse, elle ajoute une ligne à son courriel: "J’aimerais aussi parler de XYZ et de ABC, peux-tu m’aider?". C'est fréquent que les journalistes me demandent de leur lancer des pistes. Je l'ai fait souvent et je continuerai de le faire. À chaque fois que c'est arrivé, j'ai lu mes idées dans des mots complètement remâchés. C'est génial! On se dit que le journaliste a aimé notre idée, l'a adapté pour ses lecteurs et voilà, nos idées sont devenues ses mots. On fait parler de notre marque et on s'en félicite. À d'autres occasions, mes conseils sont cités et mon nom est nommé. Le résultat est le même : un sentiment d'accomplissement des deux côtés de la clôture.


J'ai donc envoyé un courriel lui suggérant trucs et produits pour répondre aux besoins XYZ puis ABC. C'est monnaie courante, ça fait partie de mon travail et ça me vient tout naturellement! Je signe en écrivant "En espérant que ça aidera à t’inspirer. Au plaisir!". Parce que là est le but de notre échange : lui fournir des idées qui l'inspireront dans son travail de rédactrice. Une fois son texte en ligne, elle m'envoie un courriel m'invitant à lire son billet. À son tour, elle signe ainsi : "J’aimerais connaître lorsque tu as deux minutes tes impressions sur le texte."


Est-ce que c'est ce que l'expression "On ne vaut rien si on ne vaut pas une risée" signifie? Parce qu'en lisant l'article en ligne, que j'ai moi-même rédigé mot pour mot, et en relisant la ligne où elle me demande mes impressions sur le texte, je me dis qu'elle rit de moi. Assez allègrement.


Comme elle me demande si ouvertement mon avis, je ne vais pas me priver de lui donner! "


"Mon impression sur le texte, sérieusement? Comme c’est un « copié/collé » quasi-intégral de mon courriel, je le trouve génial!", que je réplique. Et c'est à ce moment qu'elle retourne le fer dans la plaie en me servant "Ton courriel était génial… pourquoi ne pas utiliser une formule gagnante ;-)! "


Qu'une personne soit en panne d'inspiration pour écrire, je le comprends jusqu'au fond de mon âme et jusqu'au bout de mes doigts. Par contre, j'ai de la difficulté à digérer qu'on prenne 210 de mes mots et qu'on en prenne le crédit, à tort. Dorénavant, quand je pense au plagiat, un synonyme me vient en tête : incompétence.

Si vous en avez ras-le-bol de vous faire piquer vos mots vous aussi, prenez ce texte et copiez-le intégralement dans votre prochain billet. Je vous l'offre avec grand plaisir!

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Feline Acne

Two feline creatures allow me to share my condo with them.  (Bodyguard gets irritated when I say I'm the "mother" of two cats.  Ooops.  Hehe!)  The oldest one is 12 and the tiny, dumpster-found teeth-enhanced one is almost 5.

Last February, I realized Pussachat (the eldest) had bad breath.  Not as in "I just ate tuna so leave me alone" bad breath, but unhealthy, permanent, kitty-cat mouth smell.  It also seemed she had less of an appetite in the last days and that indicated I had to bring her to the vet.  I have been going to this vet since 1997 when I had my rabbits.  Not all vets are rabbits vets.  Rabbit vets get to charge double the price for a visit :o) and that's a  different blog topic! 

Here I am, cat in hand, at the clinic with Pussachat who gets on the scale.  It's just an ounce away from 15 lbs and that's not what is best for her already aching lower back.  (She overdoes it by taking high jumps to go steal the little one's food). Eyes, ears, thermometer: everything is fine.  Except she has a small case of gingivitis and she needs her teeth cleaned.  That requires anesthesia and anesthesia equals blood tests and that translates into ching-ching.

I suggest they isolate her right after the intervention because she's known to be right down nasty when waking up after anesthesia.  I was even told to go get my own cat out of her cage at the SPCA because she was threatening to bite the attendant's arm off.  This time for the teeth cleansing, they suggested a new type of anesthesia with the hope that it would help with her cattitude upon waking up.

A bit over $500 later, my cat has a brand new smile and we head home.  Her pupils are dilated to the size of dimes.  I get her out of her cage and she heads straight for her food bowl.  The vet told me she shouldn't eat too much right away and only soft foods.  She's miaowing like there is no tomorrow and she won't stop going around in circles.  This twelve-year old is pretty much a sofa cat.  She lays there for hours and only moves if she sees me going to the kitchen (her food bowl) or bathroom (her faucet of choice). My cat is stoned and she's got a bad case of munchies!

Not only are her pupils dilated, she won't sit down for a minute -even if I offer to brush her fur- and she has lost her coordination!  She requests a drink at the bathroom faucet and what kind of a bad cat owner (mom) would I be if I declined this poor sedated (stoned) cat a drink of fresh-from-the-tap water?  I get her on the counter and she knocks her face on the faucet!  It takes her two minutes and a bit of my help to manage to drink from the faucet.  My conclusion: we go back to the "old" type of anesthetics if we need another intervention!  I'd rather have a falsely aggressive cat than a stoner-cat who needs supervision.

In a conversation with the vet before I went to get my (stoned) cat, he tells me: "While she was still sleeping, I gave her a facial".  Me = dumbfound.  A what?  I'm a certified esthetician, I know what a facial is!  But excuse me, you gave my cat a facial?  "You know she has acne, right?"  No, I certainly did not!  Cats get acne now?  "Yes, feline acne.  She has a lot of blackheads under her chin".  Those are blackheads??? (Follow the red arrows on my pic)  I thought she simply scratched herself too vigorously under the chin and it caused her scabs.  I still can't believe what I'm hearing until he says: "You will have to help  remove the blackheads".  I truly appreciate this doctor and have the utmost respect for him, his clinic and his work.  But is he kidding me?  He had her sedated while he gave her a facial!  Do you have any clue what it's like to try to remove ingrowns and blackheads from a cat's chin when she's fully awake?  She's not quite collaborative, let me tell you!  
(This picture shows very well the sparse hairs and irritated chin)
I now clean her chin (almost) every day with Hibitane, a skin cleanser for veterinary use.  It has significantly reduced the number of scabs on her chin and she scratches less.  I try, as much as she lets me, to remove her ingrowns and blackheads.  Who'd have thought an esthetician's cat would have a bad case of acne?

Friday, July 2, 2010

The day I discovered Tim Minchin

My spring 2007 was quite a busy season.  I bought my condo in January and had to pack boxes for my move in June.  I was going from a 3 bedroom /1200 + sq. ft apartment with incredible storage space into a 2 bedroom 900 sq. ft condo with (almost) no storage space.  I had to do a huge clean up in my stuff and throw away a lot of unnecessary things.  My old high school agendas? Recycled.  Letters exchanged during classes? Gone!  Decluttering is time consuming.  I also had friends from Sao Paulo living here from February until April, which meant I had to entertain.  A lot.  I was traveling to Brazil later that year and had registered for Portuguese lessons in addition to my dance classes.  And, oh, no big deal, I was turning 30 that year and work was quite busy to say the very least (Annabelle Model Search, anyone?).

I took possession of the condo on June 15th.  My family came to help me remove all the carpets because, low and behold, ceramic and hardwood floors and to be completed before my official moving in 7 days later.  We were throwing my parents a surprise party on the 23rd.  My parents were throwing me an advance surprise party on June 30  for my 30th birthday and I was flying to Sao Paulo on July 7th.  My schedule allocated very little down time. 

With the money I received as my birthday gift, I bought myself my very first (digital) camera and first iPod.  I had no time to familiarize myself with my new toy and simply asked a colleague of mine (LM) to throw music in there for me.  "Please put this and that on, a little Jami and a little Matchbox Twenty... as for the rest, surprise me".  There I was, sitting comfortably in my first class seat (Yeah, baby!  Hello Aeroplan points!) on my way to Toronto, excited to get together with my Brazilian friends, when I finally turned on my iPod.  I looked at what he had put in.  I like, I like, don't know.  I decided to listen to an artist which I had never heard of, Tim Minchin.  Genre: humour.  WTF?  Please don't tell me LM put sketches on there!

I was quiet and cozy when "Inflatable You" started to play.  Keep in mind that I have absolutely no clue what to expect.  The first thing I know, I giggle, giggle and finally burst out laughing.  My neighbor, a few feet away from me, glances, with his glasses low on his nose.  I tilt my head sideways to express how profoundly sorry I am to have interrupted his very serious reading of a newspaper.  The song starts with Tim stating "This is a love song".  A few sentences in, he declares "delectable, inflatable you".  The guy is declaring his love to an inflatable doll!  I could not help myself: I had to listen to every Tim song LM had put on my iPod!

The fact that he's funny or not is debattable.  ("Your skin is so smooth, I couldn't afford you with hair.  You have all the wholes real girls have got plus one for the air").  It's a question of taste and perception.  His musical talent, however; is unquestionable.  He rocks the piano!  He also includes a lot of harmonies and my heart is quickly won over harmonies.  Again, his choice of (abrasive and vulgar) language may not be suitable for your ears.  You should surely avoid listening to Tim Minchin if you are particularly religious.  Bodyguard does not think Tim is funny at all (and Bodyguard is not one bit religious).  On the other hand, it's been 3 years already and I still listen to Tim on a regular basis.  An instant fixer upper for me.  He cracks me up.  And although his voice is not spectacular, he carries a tune!

Do I like him even a bit more because he wears (what looks like Annabelle) makeup?  I would say he's a Custom Quad Eyeshadow - Ebony, Smudgeliner - Ohmygoth! and volumelash.com Mascara wearer!  If you're in the mood for a funny musical discovery, I'd invite you to visit his official Website: http://www.timminchin.com/.  Here are a few of my personal Tim favorites (of course, Inflatable You remains my classic of choice):
-Hello
-Rock And Roll Nerd
-You Grew On Me
-Darkside (the piano is amazing!)
-Some People Have It Worse Than Me
-If You Really Loved Me
-Nothing Can Stop Us Now (The end is drastic and cruel, I know!  But the song itself is great).
-Prejudice (What you think it is, it is not!  Love the cleverness of this song.)
 
I appreciate the musicality his songs bring.  I like the fact that he's silly.  There is plenty of time to be serious and politically correct in daily life.  When I want a dose of silly, easy-listening funnies, I turn to Tim.  He's coming to this year's Just For Laughs and I sure hope to be part of the crowd!  He also strongly supports the use of Canvas Bags and, as a canvas bag user myself, I just can't resist this song.  Kudos to you if the chorus doesn't stay in your head all day after listening to it!
 
To LM, my work colleague who loaded my iPod with Minchin tunes: THANK YOU for allowing me to discover Tim!

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Certified esthetician

I was asked to write a blog post for the public school where I studied for a year and graduated in esthetics.

Three passions unite: writing, skin care and makeup.

Full article on the school's blog here.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

More on driving

When I was 18 years old, the guy I dated drove a white Honda Prelude which, like he, was fragranced with Calvin Klein Eternity.  The car had a manual transmission and had an 8 ball in lieu of the traditional stick shift.  He was patient enough to let me have my first try out at driving standard.  I wasn't really good at it, but I liked the feeling.  It gave me an even better sensation of control and, for a person who loves to drive, it involved me even more.  The clutch survived and our friendship did too, but we stopped dating.

In 2000, my deareast first car, Chouchoune, was slowly falling apart from rust damage.  I had to travel for work and ended up having approximately 10 days to buy a new car.  My options were, for the same amount, a 1996 Nissan Maxima, standard, or a Ford Contour 1998, automatic.  Because I hadn't practiced much and would spend a lot of time on the road, I hesitated to get the Maxima with manual transmission and decided to take the Ford Contour instead.  Now I loved my Contour while she was good but HATED her when I changed the timing belt for the second time in 6 months.  What a mistake! 

My best friend bought her new car, standard of course, and I had the chance to drive it on a few occasions and I was hooked.  I figured the next MissIPP Mobile would just have to be standard.  When the time came, I went to the car dealer and decided on the model, colour and everything.  I went to pick up my new vehicle on a Friday night and I was handed the keys shortly before closing time.  I was hanging around the dealership doors, waiting, when the saleswoman came to see me.  "Is there something we can help you with?", she asked.  "Oh no, thank you.  I'm just waiting for my sister and her boyfriend to come meet me.  He's going to take the car across the street in the parking lot to teach me how to drive" is what I answered.  I would have paid $20 to get a picture of the look on her face.  "You don't know how to drive standard?", she blurted out.  "Well, yes, I know how to drive standard!  I just need to practice".  I'm convinced she was genuinely preoccupied about the car she had just leased me.

My sister and her boyfriend did arrive.  He drove the car across the street for me and we switched seats.  He would make me stop and go; the most important "how to" when learning to drive standard.  The they followed me home to make sure not too many cars would hit the horn behind me if I stalled at a stop sign or red light.  I discovered how quickly the right arm and its middle finger can be raised to signal the driver in the car behind you that you'll only be one second, hence the one and only finger.

I avoided hills at all cost at first and then eventually got the hang of it.  I learned that high heels are much easier to drive in versus platform shoes that won't let you feel the clutch.  I realized that some men (Hello, Bodyguard!) are still prejudiced and assume that women don't drive standard.  Perhaps it's the way I handle the stick that impressed him?  No pun intended ;o)

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Addictions - Part 4: driving


When I turned 16, all I could think of (besides boys) was to put money aside so I could go back to Rio de Janeiro as soon as I could.  I had spent a month there 2 years prior and only wanted to go back as soon as I could (finally went back 15 years after - story to be told in a different blog post).  I was working part-time making $6 an hour in a kids' clothing store with no commission and baby-sitting a lot as well for even less money.  Saving up was hard to do.  (What do you know?  History repeats itself because it's still hard to do!)  My dad, on the other hand, had other plans for me.  He wanted me to take my driver's license classes.

Yuk.  I could not care less.  My mom was driving me everywhere I wanted to! :o)  Of course, Papa a raison, I ended up taking my classes.  We had theory classes for nearly 20 hours  which led to an official written exam in governmental offices.  Then, with my apprentice's permit in hand, I was authorized to take the actual driving lessons and/or drive with someone who had their driver's license.  I succeeded at the written exam the first time around.

My dad would take me driving in the industrial park on week-ends so that I would be able to practice without fearing traffic.  I think he was always comfortable with my driving because I took after him.  Except for parallel parking.  People laugh when I talk about how stressed out I am when I have to parallel park and I have a passenger in my car.  These people have obviously never tried to park with my dad in the car.  It's a story so famous that it's even a running gag.  My dad loves his white walls.  He used to shine them every Friday afternoon during the summertime and these fine white lines could not be scratched.  Try to picture adolescent me, learning how to drive, with my dad by my side telling me : "Watch the tires.  Careful!  Watch the tires.  Not so close.  STOP!"  When you see danger and you look at it, where do you think you end up?  Boom.  Sidewalk.  "Sorry, dad".

Then came the time to pass my road test.  My dad's friend, a retired cop, had become a road test instructor for the government (SAAQ).  He took me for a three-hour drive one afternoon and took me through all the tough areas where the instructor whom would eventually take me on the road for my test would most likely take me.  "Watch the yellow line when you take this curve.  The road tends to pull you towards it; make sure you stay within your lane.  At a stop sign, stop ON THE LINE.  Not a foot before and not an inch after.  This street is two-ways on this end, but one-way only starting here.  The instructor is going to watch if you see the signs and try to have you go the wrong way into a one-way street.  Watch for it."  I was given all the pointers!  On the day of my exam, the man had been instructed to pass me, unless I literally failed to respect safety laws. But I didn't and hurray for me, I got my driver's license!

I have been driving ever since.  My mom's car at first and then I bought my first (used) car when before I turned 19.  I discovered a passion for driving.  I love to go over the speed limit.  My cruising speed?  145 km/hr.  But that was before April 2009 when, in Quebec, they doubled speeding ticket fees and demerit points.  I am not afraid of driving at 145 km/hr on the highway however; I fear having to cut back on everything in my budget to be able to afford a speeding ticket.  Since then, I have been respecting speed limits very diligently :o(

I don't mind a 6-7 hour drive.  I love it, in fact.  As long as I know I have my cell phone and my iPod, I am good to hit the road!  My name is MissIPP and I am addicted to driving!

Sunday, May 30, 2010

The other side of the fence


On April 10, I posted my very first product review:  J.R. Watkins Apothecary Lemon Cream.  Just a few short hours after, I received an email from Mr. Hagen, an Independent Watkins Executive.  Based on my number of followers, I assumed he had the brand name on Google Alert!

My very first thought was "Whoa! Is this what it feels like to be on the other side of the fence; to be contacted by sales and / or PR reps for product reviews?"  It felt very flattering and made me giggle for a few minutes.  After contacting many beauty bloggers myself (please rest assured that I am not pretending to be a beauty blogger.  I am not a beauty blogger.  I am not a makeup artist.  I'm a certified esthetician who works in the cosmetic industry, is a friend to beauty bloggers and an addict to social media and text messaging.),  it felt nice and strange to be sitting on the other side of the fence for a minute.  For this lovely opportunity I was given, thank you, Mr. Hagen.

I was lucky enough to receive a complimentary tube of the new and improved formula, for my personal use and review.

What I learned: the product I had purchased in Florida at such a great discounted price ($2.49 US) had, in fact, been discontinued over a year ago, hence the discount!  The new formulas are not only paraben free, like the Website claims, but the packaging has also been updated.  My sweet and fresh lemon cream is even fresher-looking nowadays.

Again, from the Website:
"J.R. Watkins Body Creams provide your skin with the ultimate moisturizing experience. Natural shea and cocoa butters are whipped together with more than 10 natural oils and extracts to protect, soothe and condition your delicate skin. This is a healthy treat your skin will never forget! 96-97% natural.  Ideal for rough areas including heels, knees and elbows
 
Brand Commitments:
• 95% Natural and above; Sodium Lauryl Sulfate Free; Sodium Laureth Sulfate Free; Paraben Free; Phthalate Free; Mineral Oil, Petrolatum free; Dye Free."
 
My updated review
Upsides:
-the J.R. Watkins Natural Apothecary Shea Butter Body Lemon Cream now comes in a tube instead of a jar.  I no longer get cream stuck under my nails when I get it on my hands to apply.
-the scent is even more natural and lemony (yummy!)
-like the Website claims and contrary to my first product review, the cream is overall natural (19 natural extracts on a total of 34 ingredients)!
-is it me or does my skin feels softer after moisturizing with the new formula?  I think it does!
-the protective barrier it leaves on my skin (hello, lemon peel extract!) which also helps prevent moisture loss
-I can order from Mr. Hagen when I want a new tube and I can't find it in a store near me!

Downsides:
-the size went from 130 g (jar) to 95 g (tube).
-the scent seems to have lost a bit of its "creamy" lemon sent; it smells more like freshly squeezed lemons than a lemon-meringue pie.  I still adore the smell, but wish it had kept a bit of its sweet, creamy/dreamy scent.
-$7.99 CAD + taxes per 95 g tube.  That's a bit expensive for my cheap-single-girl-with-a-mortgage budget and it would absolutely be a treat (from me to myself with lotsa love) to purchase again.

Neutral about:
-the paraben-free,dye-free and other-free formula, but I do realize that is a huge bonus for many beauty gals out there.
-the way it applies.  Although the new version seems to have a better slip and slide effect, it does not go on as smoothly as I love a body cream to do so.

My final thoughts?  I'm a spoiled brat who loves lemon and body creams =)