Les Nuits Masquees

What does "Les Nuits Masquees" mean?

I've mentioned it here.

It evokes masked balls. Anonymity. Which is the idea behind this blog.
As Oscar Wilde would say, "Give the man a mask and he will tell you the truth."

So that's what I do. I put on a mask and share not the truth, mind you, but my version of the truth. That's all "Les Nuits Masquees" means...

Ah yes, if you want, there is this allusion to the clandestine pleasures of Madame Bovary. But that's purely a coincidence.

And as for that mask, don't think for a minute that I would be afraid to speak without it. Of course not. I stand by my ideas and what I believe. But it's much easier this way. There are no interruptions and no distractions.

Who Reads this Blog?

I think it's time I share some of my Google Analytics findings. Remember this rant? Well I still use Google Analytics to make sense of my visitors. So let's see if we have some sort of pattern going on...

To begin, I was amazed that this blog had 175 hits on 28 August. I wondered what happened there and it turns out the Tran Genealogy pages attracted the most hits on that day. Either way, this sharp peak stood out on the Google Analytics' time graph and made me feel slighly famous for a moment.

But only for a moment. This blog's average daily hit is only about 50 pages with 25 visits. Not bad but could be better.

I rate dismally on Technorati. I'm sure it has something to do with the wide ranging topics and the lack of links referring to this website. This blog fits no category and readers never know "what they are going to get". Life is like a box of chocolate right? Now who said that...:)

But seriously, who are you people? And what are you looking for?

Popular Posts

Well the number one post which has consistently had the most hits over the last year is Narcissistic Men or Women. In fact, you could even imagine that this post is the only thing worth reading in this entire blog when you consider the disproportionate amount of hits it receives alone.
This is a worry. Am I such a bad writer?
But either way, bless you. I'm glad I could help. In fact it bothers me that there are so many people who need help in this department. What a monstruous dating world this must be. Is there no end to it? No respite for those in love with self-serving vampires?
The search keywords that visitors used to reach the post speak for themselves:

narcisstic men
narcisstic women
dealing with narcisstic women
narcissistic men in relationships
childhood of narcisstic men
coping with narcisstic women
dealing with female narcisstic wife
how narcisstic use women
how to change narcissistic men?
how to recognise insecure men
men who crave attention from women
narcissistic men and how they hurt women
etc...etc..

Sad.


Third most popular this year is the main page of Les Nuits Masquees. I'm assuming some of these visits may originate from random Blogger references. Having said that, if you are returning directly to this blog on your own volition, then you must like something. Always nice to know!

Now you see, I'm starting to notice a pattern. Because in the Top 10 and currently at 7th place for the most popular post, is The Passive Aggressive Boss.
You'd think that happy workers all over this planet were accidentally stumbling across this post and were blissfully unaware that there was such a thing as a manipulative boss... But you'd be wrong. The corporate world is, indeed, ugly. No need to be so professional about it!
Here are some of the keywords that people have typed and which led to this post, (don't worry I have no idea who you are, rest in peace you tormented souls):

dealing with a passive agressive boss
covert passive agressive men
how to deal with passive aggressive boss
how to deal with a passive agressive boss
passive agressive boss
gaslighting passive aggressive
feedback for the passive aggressive
how to deal with a jealous, manipulative boss
how to deal with gaslighting
how to manage petty insecure boss
my boss is passive aggressive
etc... etc...

Such a pity that there are no real solutions to this ever increasing problem. Insecurity, narcissism, loneliness, alienation, the me-generation...there are all symptoms of one and the same thing.

Visitor Location

That most of my visitors are from the US is not a surprise given the media platform and the English language. Australia comes in second place which is reassuring as it means at least a couple of friends find interest in my ramblings (and that doesn't include the couple who subscribe via Google Reader).

Following closely are visits from the UK, Canada and France (not all relatives, I assure you). Overall, this blog receives visitors from 55 countries, including the less likely, Senegal (finally!), China, Brazil, Lebanon, Algeria and Oman.

Visitors stay an average of 1 minute which means they do get past the post titles and the images. I'm relieved.




Overall, what do the visitors tell me. Based on the most popular content, there is a thirst for French lyrics translation, an urgent desire for self-help material and keen, sustained interest in my Vietnamese family genealogy.
I will keep that in mind.

A Sunday walk through Brisbane

I took a couple of photos during our walk through Brisbane last weekend. It started out not far from QUT, in the Botanical Gardens.



The following shadow photos were taken along the river facing towards QUT...



I really like these for some strange reason. So I'm going to do what my photographer friend does and declare them copyright. So there. (Which reminds me I need to declare all the posts and ideas that I regularly spew out on this blog as copyright. Consider this a preamble to my legalese, to come shortly. Be warned, plagiarist!)



This is a great one. Has an eerie, cold morning dew feel to it. Almost looks as though we are lost in a magical forest and the tree branches are beckoning the traveller forward to his doom. Aaaaaagh!!!!

The one below reminds me of the kitschy special effects in some 70s Arabian adventure movie. Beware the play-do crawling branches that awake in the middle of the night!!!


Here is a photo of a peculiar but ordinary looking tree which I quite like. Don't ask me for the Botanical name. I never took high school Biology due to my deep dread for the famed insect collection assignment. You won't find me pinning arachnids and insects to some foam board, on any day. And it's not because I care for the evil little things.



After walking to the end of the Botanical Gardens we took the path skirting the river further to reach Eagle Pier.



What I love about Eagle Pier is the crimson bougainvilleas and the expensive boats. I also think that Boardwalk restaurant is the closest thing to Brisbane's version of the Champs Elysees. You know how people all along the Champs Elysees sit so as to be seen? That is, they sit on their rotund chairs with their bodies pointed away from their table and eat their baguettes while ogling the pedestrians? That's pretty much the idea on the Boardwalk restaurant, except the diners are staring at the river. I admit that the Storey Bridge views are gorgeous.

The Eagle Pier river walk is actually the beginning of a long walk that can take you right up to Newfarm via a moving/floating bridge. Scary stuff!

On Sundays, the Eagle Pier craft markets are on and there are two great food stands worth mentioning. The first is an authentic street style creperie with all the savoury and sweet fillings you may expect in a traditional French creperie. It even smells right too! The fact that it actually offers chestnut cream filling speaks volumes. (I'm still waiting for someone to post a comment on my blog accusing me of being pro-French in the same way I was accused of being pro-Chinese...waiting...waiting...)

Second is a large bakery stand which I think is Chinese owned but I'm not sure. It sells delicious croissants, danishes, filo pastry snacks, cheese twists, buns and breads. The bakery prices are very reasonable and their products are fresh and much better quality than some of the bakery products littering South Bank. Sorry, but someone had to say it!!

After having a delicious breakfast and admiring the Storey Bridge views, we doubled back to the Gardens, then across the spiky Goodwill Bridge to South Bank, took a left turn and headed up towards the Kangaroo Point Cliffs.

Brisbane's Goodwill Bridge links QUT and the Botanical Gardens with South Bank





For more information on the rock climbing (and walking) activities available in Brisbane check out the amazing Urban Crag website.

After walking past the Kangaroo Point cliffs, we reached the RiverLife adventure center where fun seeking visitors can do anything from rent kayaks/bikes, learn rockclimbing/rollerblading to take part in a mini river safari.

So anyway, further along the river and across from the Brisbane ferry stop, we ended up climbing up the short flight of steps and heading towards the long ogled Storey Bridge. This magnificent engineering relic only serves to remind us that QLD's infrastructure gets shoddier every day.



Good news it that you can now climb the bridge (much like the Sydney Harbour Bridge) or you can inhale Brisbane's ever increasing polluting particles (which never rest, even on a Sunday!) and walk bravely across the bridge until you reach the Brisbane CBD. Watch out for whistlers and car honks! All in good fun.

Brisbane City views from the top of Storey Bridge.







For nicer photos, check out my Facebook album. This is a photographic shoot through Brisbane's Botanical Gardens. Taken in mid 2008.

Watching You Watching Me

STALKERS BEWARE:

This site is being monitored via Google Analytics.

What does this mean?

It means that if you are stalking me, I know who you are.

Yep, I know where you live to the nearest city, what Browser you got for Xmas and what days you were pretending to work while Googling away.

I also know what pages you are viewing in my blog.
It's only fair that since I have no privacy, neither should you. Right?

With Google Analytics, I can also find out whether or not you are a sicko.

For example, my reports tell me if you are so depraved as to Google the words "perky nipples" and land on my 300 movie page.

Alternatively, if you Google the words "Hot Men" and land on my Hot Men or Hot Men II page, this tells me that you have some truly perverted hobbies.
Sames goes for "Hot Women" or "Shaking That Arse".
It's disgusting and you should be ashamed. You possibly need help.

I mean, how creative does a writer have to be with post titles to avoid people like you?

A Voice in the Dark

Today I had the nasty re-realisation that there are more than 70 million blogs in the world and that the chance of my blog hitting the celebrity list is as equal and therefore as minimal as that of any other blog.

In other words, we are all insignificant specs on the bum of the net.
Let that sink in for a moment. Anonymity really hurts.

Did you, for a moment, really think I was trying to setup my own private journal? That perhaps, I may be this solitary soul, who found contentment in reading her posts aloud to herself whenever she was bored or nostalgic? Of course not. As for every other blogger, I am trying to express myself, mark my name in history, bask in the glory of other bloggers and shamelessly indulge myself in self-enhancement strategies in order to prep up my self-esteem to a new healthy level.

And so this stinging truth about the spewing mass of posts that exists on the planet made me feel rather depressed. Not that I'm crying for attention or anything (well, ok, maybe just a little) but most of all, it made me realise how much shit actually reaches cyberspace.

My vague and presumptuous estimate is that out of the 70 million or so blogs, at least half of those are full of nonsensical ramblings (unlike this post, for example) and the other half is serious biographical or informative material. Further, only a small percentage of actually meaningful, informative posts would originate purely from the blogger's imagination rather than from plagiarised web articles and/or referenced information. Originality it seems, is not the blogger's forte. (Aside: this rampant plagiarism doesn't just extend to the world of blogs, I'm starting to suspect that some soft-news journalists are looking into posts for new material.)

Which brings me to the core of my tantrum...ahum...argument. Why does my blog have to compete with the million blogs that contain cut-and-pasted articles? Man, do you really want to waste cyberspace by re-posting Wikipedia or being the web-echo for Times magazine? Are you so afraid to post your own opinion? It's such a delight to read opinions no matter how extreme, to learn about a blogger's dirty little secrets, to dwell into their fears, their hopes and their faults. It's called being real. I'd like to think that the sheer number of real bloggers, with real posts has managed to eclipse my own into anonymity. But the notion that in fact, my blog is being eclipsed by a gaggle of never ending links and references is so undignified.

So yes, as a matter of fact, I am depressed. And you know what, I don't care anymore. I've had it. I'm going to start pasting quotes from Tolstoy and Shakespeare, then I'll make regular posts of copied recipes from Recipes.com and then I'll make you all suffer.

Les Nuits etc...

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, "Les Nuits Masquees" literally means "The Masked Nights".

Of course, I could have written, "The Masked Nights" but it sounds so much prettier in French.

Hopefully, it should conjure up all sorts of sinful, clandestine visions...
Think,
Stone colonnades under the glow of a shameless moon, heaving breasts in tight stringy corsets, voluptuous skin that panders to daring decolletages, red lipped beauties whispering unlady things from behind their black velvet dominos, forbidden games, sinister violin tunes in the background...mystery...secrets...that sort of thing.

Theoretically anyway.

Hopefully my blog name will serve its purpose and you'll end up thinking that I'm a little sultry, a little dark. Maybe a little bit mysterious (a touch of mystery is always good).
This blog name will lend every single one of my posts, no matter how benign, with some imagined double meaning that you'll not doubt ponder over for many hours while you try to figure out what I look like behind my mask.

I have a penchant for drama. I'll try not to disappoint.