Succour

I've been in a great mood. Really. I have. I just run into speed bumps from time to time, and I claw my way over them. This one's almost a mere memory. The animal puts the venlafaxine into its body...

My re-entry culture shock hasn't been too considerable after twelve days in "La Fragua de la Independencia Nacional."

Last night's polyglot concert by Pink Martini was definitely soothing to my mangled, dejected nerves, and I even found the inane couplets of their song "Hang On Little Tomato" to be somehow uplifting.

And I have to admit, even though I sometimes prance around my own house singing in Spanish, Portuguese, and Hindi, I find it very annoying that a group of people from Portland have managed to fashion a career out of doing exactly that (well, minus the Hindi). Meanwhile, I have to wake up and go work in an office every day. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Jealousy debases all of us.

Somebody told me, I don't know who
Whenever you are sad and blue
And you're feelin' all alone and left behind
Just take a look inside and you will find

You gotta hold on, hold on through the night
Hang on, things will be all right
Even when it's dark
And not a bit of sparkling
Sing-song sunshine from above
Spreading rays of sunny love

Just hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you'll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something's coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead

And so I hold on to his advice
When change is hard and not so nice
You listen to your heart the whole night through
Your sunny someday will come one day soon to you

Coming soon: my probably-not-very-original observations about the aforementioned Fragua.