a harmless drudge
Is it possible that I am becoming too busy to update this every day? Is it possible that I have things to do? Heaven forfend! Last night I was up until three-thirty a.m. (or four a.m., if you count the time it took to eat the granola) hunting typos in Lolita, and nerd that I am, I started to enjoy it. Honestly, what does it mean that The Annotated Lolita changes the City of Cheboygan, a perfectly plausible mid-century ferry (page 158 in your edition, dear reader), to the City of Sheboygan, a 1915 shipwreck at the bottom of Lake Ontario? Did Nabokov know about this? Is he fucking with us all?
Yesterday's Spanish proficiency text turned out to be a translation of Engels's introduction to Das Kapital where he talks about the discovery of oxygen, of all things (go here, search for "phlogiston"); I think my English version was all right except for a really stupid blunder (which I realized five minutes after handing it in), where I translated no es sino as "is not only" instead of "is nothing but," and thus reversed the entire meaning of the sentence. I don't know how strictly they grade these things; so next week I find out whether I get to feel like a dumbass and retake the test in the spring.
But but I have seedlings in my garden, and Aimee showed up on her book tour! Go Aimee!