Ayrrrr.

Congratulations, you haven't done anything productive today, terminally adding a gleam of satisfaction, might add, yesyes. (Sarcasm aside, anywee.) A very futile idyllic day today since I haven't even touched my Latin assignment translating a smattering of Virgil's Aeneid. Why, I should just finish the bloody thing right here! In this blog! Aye!:D

Of course I shouldn't be having an assignment tomorrow for I was absent last meeting, the first meeting, since I was suppose to come to class last Thursday, mistaking that day as Wednesday so apparently, belatedly, arrived one day late, last Friday, flummoxed at why the hell isn't my Spanish 10 having any meeting until I rechecked my schedule and poked random students in the corridor, "Aren't you guys coming in?" "Yeah, in a while. The professor's not there yet anyway," one says. Then I go, "Hmmmmmmmmkay, Immona go get myself inside now. Spanish 10, right?" "Actually no," the other says, "it's Spanish 11." "This isn't Spanish 10?" My brain knotted in a fubar. "Do I have to repeat myself?" the moron says. So I went to ask the section and they say something in the TF schedule and my eyes muster about my schedule for a minute, wondering just what the hell I was missing until it finally dawned upon me that last Thursday was actually Friday and I have already missed my Spanish and Latin classes the other day which reminded me that I should've been running off that very moment to my Friday scheduled classes. Sooooooooo. Winding boring disorganized narration. I don't have to explain myself anyway.:D

And my Latin assignment...... It's the part where Aeneas plummets to the netherworld to visit his daddy but unfortunately sees the goddess Juno who had killed herself by burning herself in a pyre, floating over the sea, with a trail of black smoke spilling like ink gracefully up the sky.:D Just because Aeneas wouldn't marry her, nitch, why else should she kill herself? Me lovey Virgil. His real name's actually Publius Vergilius Maro. (HA! Maalala ko pa!XD) Although he maybe likened to Homer (in fact, classicists say Virgil merely copied Homer's style, as in the epic of Illiad and Odyssey, and the whole flowery prose of Virgil was a mere strategy to legitimize Emperor Augustus' seat in the throne, seat and throne as the same synonymous banana I am aware.o_0 Seat = position, not the seat where your rest your derriere on.) And I assume I can't recall where I left off following that previous digression. On to the assignment!

Postquam Aeneas ab Africa vela dedit, sub terram ivit ut patrem mortuum videret. Ut in Orcum veniret, donum reginae Orci dedit. In Orco animos et laetos et miseros multorum mortuorum oculis vidit. Ibi reginam mortuam vidit et oravit ne se insidiarum damnaret, sed regina neque spectavit neque Aenean audivit. Aeneas via ambulavit; ad dextram erat ager laetorum, sed ad laevam errant animi malorum. In agrum laetorum venit et patrem vidit. Pater nato verba multa de vita et de Romanis cum venia dixit. Aeneas patrem audivit laetus. Postea ad Italiam vela dedit et ibi bellum cum incolis gessit. Et gladiis et saxis magna cum diligentia pugnaverunt. Aeneas cum turba incolas Italiae superavit et ab Aenea pacem petiverunt.

After Aeneas set sail from Africa, he went beneath the earth to see his father. So that he may come to the netherworld, he gave a gift to the queen of the netherworld. (Sounds redundant donnit?o_0) In the netherworld he saw with his eyes the spirits and (what the fork is laetos??) and misery of many dead people...

...brain lag.X0 I don't remember me vocabularies anymore, urrrrggghh.X0 Where's me dictionary. Actually I understand the paragraph but I have to flawlessly, accurately translate the mongo jubungo, retaining its tone, its appeal, its chutzpah; the translation acting as a mere impartial intermediary. It's actually easier to do this thing by hand, legibly translating the bleeding complex archaic code into a slew of senseless gibberish. Very unproductive indeeeeeeeeeeed.XD And yet I am sleeeeeeeepy. Putangina lang, nakalimutan ko na Latin ko. "Practice makes perfect," the cliche goes, but the same thing applies to its opposite: makes the mind forget.

Word did you say?

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