I feel the need to share a little gem from Latin class today. we are reading Horace, who was a Roman poet who was friends with such infamous greats as Virgil and Augustus Caesar, the emperor. Here is an except of the sermones (V) that we just finished translating:
"Hic ego mendacem stultissimus usque puellam
ad mediam moctem exspecto: somnus tamen aufert
intentum Veneri: tum immundo somnia visu
nocturnam vestem maculant ventremque supinum."
Translation for the uninitiated: "Here [as in, in the city he was staying in] I in my extreme stupidity awaited a deceitful girl until midnight: but sleep stole my readiness for love: then in dreams the unclean sights defiled my night-"clothes and my prone stomach."
See? See? This is why I love the Romans. Only in that culture could a man who writes poetry about getting stood up by a prostitute and then having a wet dream be best buds with the emperor.
Random tidbit of the day #2: "The average American man will begin to force himself to lose weight as soon as he can't see his own genitalia. The average American woman will start doing so when she can't see anyone else's."
Also, Ryter says he's been feeling much better-- he's hungry again and sleeping all the time to catch up. So I'm not worried about him any more. Well, I'm not worried about him needing to be rushed to the hospital. I am slightly concerned that he will get hit on the head by a meteor. That's why every time I see a shooting star I wish that it doesn't land on the head of anyone I know.