The Salem Orientalist Society

In a mostly unrelated matter, they've been getting me to play the piano for one of the local Spanish speaking wards at their choir practice. Given that I know essentially no Spanish and that the director is far from proficient in English, things run a little weirdly. At one practice, she broke down and started crying and being obviously very disappointed at how things were going, and from her painfully long invective that elicited defensive and curt responses from more than one of the choir members, the only thing that I was certain I had understood was that she had spent upwards of eighty dollars to have her hair highlighted. Fortunately, though, someone went and fetched the bishop, who said lots of serious but calm things, and after some hugging and sighing, everything was more or less back to normal, albeit with runny makeup. A woman from El Salvador who might be 4 foot seven in six inch heels asked me on my way out if I understand Spanish, and, relieved at my negative response, suggested that I was lucky, an assertion with which I was only half inclined to concur. Things are much better lately, however, as the worst I have to endure is being asked at some time or other by every single person with whom I attempt to converse whether I have a girlfriend, and then being told that my rakish smirk and shrug of the shoulders are insufficient explanation as to why not.

Here's a picture of me with my new haircut:

Ashley,
My favorite thing about Spanish is that although I've never learned it at all, I can read it just as well as I can read Italian.
Also, I think I really tengo more of un tigre en mi pantalones.

Cheers,
W. P.

Gee, thanks. I've recorded a special birthday message for you at this address:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmkoAUs0WKI

Wait - you do realize that both of those pictures of me, right?