Perfect harmony, or is it?

As the infinite wisdom that is Facebook quizzes tells me, I am, like Goethe, primarily concerned with the emotional aspects of life and strive above all towards harmony - so possibly that is the reaosn why I am currently jumping up and down with glee as I am listening to the newly emerged version of Perfection as a Hipster (part of Stuart Murdoch's God Help The Girl project) with Neil Hannon singing the male vocal part. I am smitten. You can always trust those incidents to elate me most where two really good friends of mine, though previously unknown to each other, unexpectedly get along really well. And this is probably the musical equivalent of such a situation. Neil Hannon singing Belle & Sebastian songs. Just let it melt on your tongue!
I cannot wait for the film to come out, even though that might still take a while.
And apparently Stuart Murdoch is also going to collaborate with Those Dancing Days, so that's another thing to look forward to.

In other news, I have returned to Vienna from the UK - so by the way, you're in for a whole lot of pictures and travel impressions that are waiting somewhere down the line. But, oh, Vienna ... Having spent the last week primarily with two persons who evidently find it so unbearable that they feel/felt the need to emigrate I am obliged to defend it, although it makes me feel a little inadequate.
I do love Vienna, but in a very multifaceted and often not unambiguous way, a way that makes it hard to explain it to anybody else, especially if they're convinced that it is rubbish. I can understand where they're coming from when they say that the people here are horrible and grumpy - on my tram journey home from the inner city I overheard one Viennese man dressing down a tourist who had (apparently) asked for help, because the man from Vienna did not speak a word of English and reacted in a typical aggressive-defensive way, leaving the poor tourist very confused, and another conversation between two elderly women who started arguing over which one of them was more unreliable and which more generous in forgiving said unreliability. Jesus!
So yes, I know very well why I usually have my headphones on when I'm travelling on public transport: That makes it so much easier to concentrate on the more positive aspects like sweet and gentle and perfectly attired indie-esque men sharing a short part of your itinerary. (*insert spazz*) Of course that isn't the only reason why I love Vienna. It isn't even one of the main reasons why I love it.
I love it because it's home, and because it's not perfect, and it doesn't make me feel insignificant by being too hip or too posh or too amazing. Vienna works perfect for me because it reflects me, and sort of nestles into my own quirks and the shape of my personality - or maybe it is the other way around. It can be depressing and tedious, but never in a way that leaves you completely depressed or bored. It always manages to entertain you gently while never being too exhausting (unless you seek to be exhausted, haha.) And yes, there's no denying: Vienna is whiny, grumpy, obsessively self-conscious and hypochondriac, and its moments of genius seem barely capable of making up for the grey, everyday sameness - but somehow they do, and somehow one learns to affectionately tolerate even the bad bits, simply because they're so characteristic of this city.
At any rate, I don't think I am going to move away any time soon.