Nov. 2nd, 2009

kittydesade: (facepalm - dean)
Somewhat rested. Sleep is a good thing.

Как по-русски? Express the following short dialogue in Russian. Pay special attention to the words in italics.
-- Do you have a picture of your house?
-- Yes, I do. This is my family's house. This is my room, and this is my sister's room.
-- Is that your car?
-- That's my father's car. My mother's car is on the street.

У тебя эсть фотография твоего дома?
Да, есть. Это дом моей фамилии. Это моя комната и это комната моей сестри.
Это твоя машина?
Это машина моего отца. Машина моей матери стоит на улице.

… and the next section is on specifying quantity. I kind of want to skip it because, guess what? They STILL HAVEN'T TAUGHT US OUR NUMBERS YET. Stupid book. The upshot seems to be that the amount word agrees with the noun, the noun following the numbers 2, 3, and 4 is in the genitive singular (# of [noun]?) and the number 2 is weird. And the rest of the numbers are followed by the genitive plural. So… one, many, lots, to simplify it ridiculously. One-nominative, many-genitive sing., lots-genitive plural. Which we also haven't learned yet.

So I'm supposed to do an exercise on counting items with numbers I haven't learned yet, which requires a form of the genitive case I haven't learned yet.

You're stupid, book.


Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today! Adopt one today!
kittydesade: (hey little girl)
What's too true about those words that you knew
that you'd never right quite right.
What's too clear, too simple, too near,
makes you lay awake all night.

What's in the pace of a day.
Lost overtures.
Drag our feet around.
We long to be near.
Always aware of the spaces between us.
Lie still and listen to the hiss and the crackle.

Just like clockwork we decide
all these little known facts ring false.
Turn the light off. Go on home.
Absence serves you well.

What's in the pace of a day.
Lost overtures.
Drag our feet around.
We long to be near.
Always aware of the spaces between us.
Lie still and listen to the hiss and the crackle.

What's in the pace of a day.
We can't unwind.
Drag out feet around.
We can't decide.
Always aware of the spaces between us.


Christine Fellows
Lost Overtures

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