Today I received my very first chinese spam mail. A very exciting occasion. I don't really know what triggered it, since I don't recall ever visiting any site that might lead to such an outcome, and of course I can't very well read it (since my Mandarin skills have yet to magically develop after being bit by a chinese silk worm).
In fact, I can't even be sure that it's chinese. It mentions Craiglist.org, TableShox.com, 1993 and 1995, but that's all I can understand. It also provides a mysterious link to yahoo news which I haven't yet clicked on, though I suppose my curiosity will soon get the better of me.

In any case, I give you the link and the title in the off-chance that any of you spent your formative years eating rice, binding your feet to make them small and practising martial arts (I think I got the basic prejudices right, but if you can think of any other feel free to chip in!):


網路力量大！　
加國男子用一根迴紋針換一棟房子

http://tw.news.yahoo.com/060417/195/31k0m.html

Naps are good. I don't think anyone can argue with any degree of success against that axiom. They're even recommended at work now (supposedly), so there you go.

I'd ramble on as usual, but instead of doing that, I feel compelled to ramble on (we'll never really be able to escape that fundamental style, I'm afraid) but in a different manner.

Of late, I've been a bit depressed. Actually, the word that comes to mind is "desgano", which ultralingua roughly translates as 'the losing of one's appetite' or 'indifference'. If you break it down, the prefix "des-" implies lack of, or failure to, or opposite of. And "gano" comes from "ganas", which is "want of sthg", or "yen" (this last word is not a part of my vocabulary, but that's what ultralingua says). As it is used commonly, "ganas" is also "drive", "enthusiasm", "wanting it to happen", "wanting to make it happen", etc. The stuff of motivational-speak.

To sum up, then, I've been feeling down, unenthusiastic about life, reluctant to crawl out of bed for anything (with the exception, perhaps, of TV, which I have been consuming at the merry daily rate of approx. 4 hours).
But I cannot discern the cause for such a displeasure, other than the coming of winter; but these days have been inordinately sunny and altogether not-so-freaking cold (around the 15ºC) to allow for that explanation. Moreover, the day before last I talked to an old friend with whom I'd grown rather estranged due to a humongous lack of communication (the truth of which we only discovered wednesday, after 3 months of not talking to each other and waiting for the other to call, figuring the other didn't care). Our conversation put a whole lot of things into perspective, and enlightened me on many other aspects of our friendship (mainly, the fact that she gives a shit if I drop dead, to put it coarsely) which my blatant insecurity had always led me to disbelieve. And, even more, yesterday a friend (not very close friend) was having a bad time and asked for my help. Which doesn't sound like a big deal, but it is to me because being asked for help is something that makes me feel powerful in a twisted, pseudo-messianic, and not-a-little pathetic way.

So, cheap psychoanalysis aside, what's wrong? I don't want to study, that's for sure, but isn't that the college student's cross-to-bear/God-given right? To be forced to study and have unlimited complaining capacities?

I don't know.

But writing about it is liberating, I suppose. Now you have to read it, so I'm unloading part of my suffering (well, "suffering". I know I have nothing substantial to complain about. I have almost everything, and what I don't have I probably will in the near future; but where's the fun in ranting about that, right?) onto you (into? on? in? unto? to?). Besides, that's now an hour I've spent not-studying, so yay!
Guilt is added to the worry-bear's burden!

This is a poll. Please answer truthfully and in HB pencil:

1) Should I take another nap?

For some reason, sitemeter insists that 14 people (or one really obsessed stalker) will read these lines, if last week's visiting pattern is repeated.
I find this highly unusual, and suspect that it is all due to flukes and lightning striking and playful cats on keyboards. Nonetheless, I must admit that it intrigues me greatly, and so I'd like to ask a favour of you who read this:
leave a comment!
or a smoke signal
hate mail
anything

That way I'll know who you are, my overdeveloped curiosity satisfied, and we can all be great friends. Who knows?! I might even start posting again. If I don't fall asleep lulled by the sound of my own rhythmic yawning.

Oh well. I suppose I should take a nap right about now.

Sweet dreams, my darling telescopic-lens-holding stalker!