Tales of a wandering lesbian


Here is the English version of the Italian post from a couple of days ago.  I used a different online translator to convert it back from Italian to English.  I think it’s a nice demonstration of why I’m worried about not knowing the language.  I’m pretty sure this is what I sould like when I speak Italian:

The words are iportante. I say the all time. That he is l’ only thing that me renders nervous for my return in Italy and l’ adventure beyond. The words.

They have grown with a mother who was an English teacher. I have studied law and has written for a life. The words are my friends. They are my instruments, mine defense, my crews. More than every other thing, words mean humor. I am a funny person. In reality, I am enough funny.

But, my humour is in great part depends from intelligence and comic times. And ‘ something that I have cultivated so as to use in order to break off the ice with new persons, like diplomatic instrument in the tension situations, and equally general divertimento. Without mastery of the language, I will have to resort to the physical comicità.

I know that to this it allows me adventure to learn a lot on same me. It will be strip via what task I and leave me with my Core. They are ready to let to the shoulders the consumismo. They are ready to let to the shoulders ” l’ lawyer “. I am not thus sure that I am ready to let to the shoulders l’ humour. I suppose that it says something to me.

The slid week, my mother has asked to me if I have fear. I have said that I am not – and I am indeed not. I feel as if you were ready in order to know same me. Creed that not only I expected l’ learning would have begun thus soon.

Bookmark and Share

September 10, 2009   4 Comments