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Apr. 8th, 2010 09:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeHausarbeit. Fragen Sie mehrere Kursteilnehmer und finden Sie heraus welche Hausarbeiten sie zu Hause machen und welche sie nicht machen. Benutzen Sie die Bilder.
Welche Arbeiten machst du zu Hause?
Ich wasche die Wäsche.
Ich sauge Staub, und ich räume die Küche auf.
Welche Arbeiten machst du nicht?
Ich räume nicht die Spülmaschine ein. (I think?)
Ich decke nicht den Tisch.
Practice telling in what states the following cities are located.
Олбани. Это город в штате Нью-Йорк.
Литл-Рок. Это город в штате Алабама, на юге Теннесси.
Атланта. Это город в штате Джорджия.
Тампа. Это город в штате Флорида.
Сан-Антонио. Это город в штате Техас. Джеки Эрл Хейли живёт в Сан-Антониo.
Балтимор. Это город в штате Мэриланд. Это город на востоке штаты.
Tired and vaguely snappish, or at least, prone to be easily hurt. Not sure why. Possibly it's just the weird dreams, or shearing my bangs a little shorter than I meant to. Which, heh. It's hair, it'll grow. Still irritates me, though.
I did, at least, get the damn outline done last night. I'm not entirely sure of the ending or the nature of the world, but most of it seems to hang together. I'm also not sure if one of the main characters lives or dies, which is kind of annoying, but as Kiki rightly said by the time I start writing it mostly he probably will decide whether he's ready to live or willing to die. So I suppose there's that. Also, I'd forgotten how creepy Carnivale can be sometimes. Especially, though less subtly, in the second season. I think I only have a couple more episodes to go, though.
Oogh. A couple scenes and a couple essays. Not that much writing for the next two days, especially if the mail order sale is as anti-climactic as it's been. Which, it's been incredibly anti-climactic. There's no rush of orders, we actually have time to sit and talk and I have time to write, which shouldn't be happening. It's odd. And it's kind of disconcerting, right along with the boy not being able to find work. There's work available, that is, but there's so many people looking for work that it's pretty much the employer's market and, ugh. I really, really wish he had some kind of income coming in. Or that I was making enough to actually support us both. Or something. I need to sell some books, and ... Hell. I don't know. Never mind.
Right. I guess this is where I get up and get dressed and so on. I really don't want to. We're going to go see. Um. Something. What movies are playing now? Some movie this weekend and I don't want to do that either. I want to curl up and sleep. No time. Have to edit, publish my fucking book, and goddamn editing is tiring and time consuming and every other damn thing. So, no time. And... stuff. Mostly writing stuff. And hard times stuff. Sigh. Tired. Bleh.
Welche Arbeiten machst du zu Hause?
Ich wasche die Wäsche.
Ich sauge Staub, und ich räume die Küche auf.
Welche Arbeiten machst du nicht?
Ich räume nicht die Spülmaschine ein. (I think?)
Ich decke nicht den Tisch.
Practice telling in what states the following cities are located.
Олбани. Это город в штате Нью-Йорк.
Литл-Рок. Это город в штате Алабама, на юге Теннесси.
Атланта. Это город в штате Джорджия.
Тампа. Это город в штате Флорида.
Сан-Антонио. Это город в штате Техас. Джеки Эрл Хейли живёт в Сан-Антониo.
Балтимор. Это город в штате Мэриланд. Это город на востоке штаты.
Tired and vaguely snappish, or at least, prone to be easily hurt. Not sure why. Possibly it's just the weird dreams, or shearing my bangs a little shorter than I meant to. Which, heh. It's hair, it'll grow. Still irritates me, though.
I did, at least, get the damn outline done last night. I'm not entirely sure of the ending or the nature of the world, but most of it seems to hang together. I'm also not sure if one of the main characters lives or dies, which is kind of annoying, but as Kiki rightly said by the time I start writing it mostly he probably will decide whether he's ready to live or willing to die. So I suppose there's that. Also, I'd forgotten how creepy Carnivale can be sometimes. Especially, though less subtly, in the second season. I think I only have a couple more episodes to go, though.
Oogh. A couple scenes and a couple essays. Not that much writing for the next two days, especially if the mail order sale is as anti-climactic as it's been. Which, it's been incredibly anti-climactic. There's no rush of orders, we actually have time to sit and talk and I have time to write, which shouldn't be happening. It's odd. And it's kind of disconcerting, right along with the boy not being able to find work. There's work available, that is, but there's so many people looking for work that it's pretty much the employer's market and, ugh. I really, really wish he had some kind of income coming in. Or that I was making enough to actually support us both. Or something. I need to sell some books, and ... Hell. I don't know. Never mind.
Right. I guess this is where I get up and get dressed and so on. I really don't want to. We're going to go see. Um. Something. What movies are playing now? Some movie this weekend and I don't want to do that either. I want to curl up and sleep. No time. Have to edit, publish my fucking book, and goddamn editing is tiring and time consuming and every other damn thing. So, no time. And... stuff. Mostly writing stuff. And hard times stuff. Sigh. Tired. Bleh.