Someday I want to know a lot of languages. I could read Camus and Beckett in French, and Dosteovsky in Russian, and the Bible in Greek and Latin. I could get all those subtleties lost in translation. Maybe it'd finally make sense.
My sister wrote me an e-mail from France today. She says it's pretty difficult being in a land where you don't speak the language. It's got to be hard on her because she has to rely on her host family to translate, and I know how she likes being independent. She says she can't wait to get back to Ireland. Hopefully I'll be visiting her this summer--I'm excited about that, too.
Quote of the Day:
...and some of it is from the urban fantasy of the 80's in which the elves are all utterly glamorous and beautiful and I want to drown them in a bucket.
