Our Internet is so lightening-fast that I’m reticent to utter aloud how thrilled we are. Baseball, streaming radio, YouTube. Fluke? Sun spots? Regardless, it makes for an easy Google search of gecko/scorpion lifestyles . . . and we all know that the Internet is authoritative. Who can say what was on this gecko’s (smart? stupid?) mind; but evidently what happened here is that the gecko thought it would eat the scorpion (maybe . . . perhaps), but foolishly underestimated the neuro-toxin of the scorpion, which paralyzed the gecko allowing the scorpion to feed at its leisure.
Sally, my dear girly-girl friend, I hate to break the news . . . you’re just not gonna make it here without a handful of Xanax and your big-girl panties.
On the slippery slope of cultural competency, I may have made an unintentional social faux-pas . . . or two. You’re stunned, right? Every morning I awake with some song in my head. Earworms. Following Hilary’s translation of the Spanish lyrics to In These Shoes, they’re stuck; and I’m singing or humming the full chorus all day. Our Tonio constantly sings (I think he’s part Italian tenor). I sing Como se puede bailar? Es un escandolo. Singing about a scandal may not be quite proper. On the other hand, who knows the topics of Tonio’s songs?