Despertar

and you just melt

San Antonio is outrageously hot. It is literally an outrage.

The Riverwalk is beautiful, though. The sessions are going well. Every morning this week, I've been up at five-thirty, down at two. A.m., both. I am loaded with caffeine. Coffee. Sugar, Splenda, caramel syrup.

That wedding is in two days.

The sun goes down and it's still in the nineties, which, I cannot stress this enough, outrages me.

*

Dinner, two nights ago, with a racist missionary douchebag who thinks he's doing good in the world by serving on the board for a school populated mostly by "blacks." He likes this organization's model because, he says, "it's the only way to educate the blacks." Then he spouts a bunch of examples that are near and dear to his heart, about construction workers he used to employ that couldn't tell you how many inches in ten feet. He doesn't say they were black; you have to infer the minor premise yourself. But you don't, you sit quietly, and then you smile, sort of, when he tells you you're his hope for the future.