as I suspected

... and now he's blogging. It's going to be like anything you can do I can do better.

He thinks his blog is more stylish than mine, but the only reason he chose it is that the background pattern reminds him of his kitty food. He doesn't even know how to do capital letters.

No, I'm not jealous. I still have more friends on Facebook than him.

Shere Khan: Add to friends

And now my kitty is on Facebook.

How the hell did he get an account - you have to be at least eighteen to register! OMG, this means he also has an email address...

Where have you been all this time?!?!

There's this Flash application on Facebook called Where I've Been, which can show all the countries you've lived in (red); been to (blue); want to go to (green); or couldn't care less about (gray).

I've been clicking on them and I've got a few reds, some blues, plenty of grays and a fair amount of green countries (except for the US and Canada, which are further divided into states).

Fancy a game of Risk, anyone?

My travelling had slowed down a lot over the last few years, but I feel that I'm reversing the trend and will start moving again: farther afield and more frequently.

I hope I never stop. I've got places to see; people to meet!

Delete all spam messages now

I'm actually glad I get some spam. When there are no new messages in my inbox, I go to my spam folder just to read the funny subject lines.

Margaret tells me she wants "One night stands", Robert says: "We've got you covered", John would like to "Xtrasize me" and Jeffrey's got "ApprovedMeds". It's always the same pattern.

So for a few seconds before I hit "Delete all spam forever and ever" – I feel like a sex-crazed, size-obsessed, pharmaceutical junkie.

As time goes by, the things these people I've never met are trying to push on me, lose their grip of fascination and fear. Now I'm only slightly bemused.

I sometimes wonder how many are out there that, when reading their spam, ask themselves: "Could it be true? Should I get this stuff?"

L'amore incondizionato del gatto

Posso sempre contare sul mio gattino. Se mi faccio vedere arrabbiato per qualche cosa, viene da me a cercare di consolarmi e farmi cambiare umore. Se invece la seccatura è diretta a lui, esce di stanza offeso o impaurito e aspetta finché non mi passa (due minuti, forse meno) prima di tornare da me a cercare coccole.

E' così anche con la gente benché molte persone spesso non se ne accorgono. Il nostro problema è che lo rendiamo più complicato quando pensiamo.

Creiamo ragioni; ci diamo spiegazioni; cerchiamo giustificazioni. E così il cambiamento di umore tarda ad arrivare.

Certi amici ci permettono di avvicinare solo fino ad un certo punto prima che si sentono in pericolo e quindi ci devono respingere. Si accorgono che vorrebbero che ci riavvicinassimo di nuovo e di più ma una volta che lo facciamo...

Purtroppo non sanno perché. Il brutto è quando non si chiedono perché.

Il gatto conosce bene questo gioco, ma non si fa domande. Anzi, credo che sospetta che il suo dare e ricevere amore dipende da questo gioco. Cioè, è il gioco che gli permette di sperimentare il sentimento.

Forse è così anche per noi. Altrimenti rischiamo di dare tutto per scontato. Quindi come il gatto, aspetto che il ciclo si ripete.

Miauu. Prrrrrrrrrrrr.

I'm on hiatus

I've been trying to decide for some time now what I want to do with myself. Where do I want to go; who do I want to see; when do I want to start...

The thing is I have writer's block. Or blogger's wrot. I'm running to a standstill, as the song goes.

Actually, no. I just need to decide what comes next. While I'm not deciding; it's a standstill. As soon as I've decided; it's a turning point. Once I'm past the decision; I'm on a roll.

Just as long as I don't start thinking that it's all a huge mistake. The mistake is simply that thought. There mustn't be a shred of doubt in my mind.

So, what's the problem? I'll tell you next time.