Why next year will rock out, reason 762.

Me, griping last night on IM :
Next year, there will be a list of emergency numbers for when I am rabid. (meaning sex-crazy)
because I refuse to inflict this on another human being.
I am nuts right now. Hence, there will be a list. If I'm making you crazy, you will hand me the list and I will come back when sane. Problem solved. I'm making myself insane.

Sara, possibly the coolest person in the entire universe and also my next-year roomie:
No, see when that happens we make sure you've got a steady girlfriend or boyfriend...or BOTH... and you give me warning so I can call them and tell them to get their asses to the apartment. Then I put out chocloate, strawberries and whipped cream and go to the library until you call my cell.

Me:. . .You are the best roomie-to-be ever.

Sara: heh heh heh heh heh. Even better...we work it so that you've got a menage-a-trois twice a week.

Can we see why I adore this lady? Also because she's fun and sings showtunes and casts the movie with me and turns my hair fun colors and eats the same food I do and all sorts of other things. She's brilliant. She's also not afraid to kick my ass.

Book meme--am obviously a French film/translation geek

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the third sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your own LJ...along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around and look for the "coolest" book you can find. Do what's actually next to you.

Jean Renoir, Ma vie et mes films "Cette utilisation de l'acteur dans un genre qui n'est pas le sien m'enchante." [This use of an actor in a genre that is foreign to him charms and fascinates me.]
Yes, I nuanced the translation. I want it to sound like Renoir. . .he was a damned articulate man. I'd love to work on book translation. . .I wonder if anyone's translated this yet? It's fairly simple as far as the linguistic constructions go, but getting the intimacy of Renoir's voice requires a more-than-literal translation, because anyone reading it in translation won't be expected to know the innate levels of French.

In other news, expect another internal dialogue scene late late tonight. . .I hope there aren't more characters coming, but I'm enjoying this form of writing.

I had cooking class today, which rocked out because we made lots of salad-y vegetable stuff and a not-quite-pumpkin pie and crêpes with spinach and chèvre and chicken breast with lots of spices. And on top of that, she always has us "faire le gâteau" while she cooks, so there were petit beurre biscuits and a quince conserve thing and sausage from Ardeche and fresh passionfruit and, in short, more food than I had eaten in a week. I came home and slept for three hours. And I brought home extra dough to make apple goodness of some sort, because I have apples and plain applesauce and sugar and ginger, and butter-based dough should hold all of this together in some form of delicious. And tomorrow night, dinner with the other MoHos for Thanksgiving.

I love the Aida Broadway soundtrack. The whole freakin' thing.
"I Will Always Love You" was on the radio when my alarm went off this morning. It made me smile. Someday. . .