Is the hwacha ready?

"Is the hwacha re-ah-dee?...No. It's in the uvula."

Our friend Tony's mom is an amazing cook, and just opened up the restaurant she's been planning for a while. (Meilor Eggroll Express in Appleton, WI) Dorian, myself, and our friend Jim went there for dinner last night, partially to get our hands on some Southeast Asian deliciousness, and partly to harass Tony.

It turns out that pad thai before bed results in Dorian talking almost the entire damned night. The problem with that--at least, in terms of this blog--is that Dorian is brilliant, and speaks several languages (rowr!), so when he talks in his sleep, what comes out may be any combination of English, Spanish, Japanese, Russian, or Arabic. (He's got Latin in there, too, but I haven't heard him speak it in his sleep, yet.) Generally, I don't try to transcribe the non-English quotes, because I only speak English and rusty French.

Though he did, months ago, mutter something in French about King Henry and a pear. I wish I'd written it down.

It's hard to remember the phonetic pronunciation of sleeping mutterings at 4:17 in the morning while trying to get some sleep and your partner next to you sounds like he's having an argument in Japanese.

He said a LOT more than the hwacha comment last night, but it's been lost in the lack of translation.

So now I'm keeping a notebook by the bed.