September 25, 2003

El gato. El cuaderno.

In an effort to broaden my horizons in directions more befitting my status as a resident of this planet, I am taking up with my prodigal spanish once again. It's been a real on-again/off-again love affair since eleventh grade. Like all high school sweethearts, we both grew up some in the intervening years. Now I find that spanish has a more mature appeal, a raw sort of practical allure that escaped me before. In turn I feel much more ready to commit to something long term, no longer the flighty little neophyte I once was.

Excelling as I do at being self-taught (and never having had much use for homework in my studied history), I am undertaking this gargantuan task on my own. To that end I have labeled everything at work with spanish translations. La mesa. El lapiz. I even attempted to label el hombre beside me but that didn't so much pan out. I figure if the words are constantly associated with the items in everyday life, I won't so much be searching for translation as identifying things by two names in due course. This theory is also known as 'learning by osmosis' or even 'lazy'. It would be a far simpler thing to wrap some poor spanish victim in my preternatural embrace, sink my fangs into their pliant flesh, drain their life essence, and gain all their knowledge and memories in a rush of ecstatic joining at the last moment of life. Including, obviously, the ability to speak fluent spanish. I've met with some resistance to this plan. Which is why the labels seem to be the way to go.

As part of my burgeoning wealth of self-inflicted education, spanish would probably be more directly useful if, say, tigers roamed the wilds of Mexico. Tigers mostly roam India. So why am I not learning Hindi? Thus the independent thinker's enduring lament - so much to learn, so little of it complimentary. Adios.

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