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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

When in Rome

I was there in June, hanging about with a gang of people who go to the real Mass Extraordinary Form. The Cool Kids Club. The only thing I didn't like about it was that it made me feel like a slouch, being around all these smartysmart people, every one of whom spoke at least three languages.

Even the Americans.

I declared that, in keeping with being a proper Anglo, I would become aggressively monolingual.

A recent conversation:

"Hey! there's something wrong with this book! It's no good."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at it. All the words are misspelled! Every single one of them. What kind of a book is this, anyway? Who publishes a book with every word misspelled?"

"Hilary, it's in French."


(I'm beginning to think that I shouldn't move to Rome. I'm pretty sure I'll just embarrass my friends.)

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