I'm in the process of teaching myself how to crochet. It's a challenge, but frankly I need the variety it provides before my brain boils over and drips out through my ears. And, assuming I master it enough to complete a hat by Christmas, there's one less present to worry about. Don't hold your collective breath, though. My first attempt at a square looks a lot like a bullet-ridden amoeba. A blue one. And teh cat has found a new favortie hobby - sitting against my legs and swiping at the yarn as it falls off the hook. Which would be cute if it weren't quite so painful.

Um, not much else worth detailing. We've started conjugating in Russian. Nothing too spectacular, though most of the conjugations are total tongue twisters. By the time I've stuttered my way through the stem, I've quite forgotten the correct ending. Italian has been translating in class the novel Il Conformisto, on the spot with no dictionary help. I enjoy the lack of homework even though I usually go horribly wrong when trying to translate. Especially as he hasn't even gone over the literary tenses yet.

Argh, and now I'm tired. Off to bed.