I don't think I could love life anymore at this very moment. You know, a la 'chicken lady loves life!' [Not that I'm a chicken lady... it just makes me think of Kids in the Hall whenever I say that.]
I got mad love from my crushes this weekend. So mad, in fact, I didn't quite know what to do with myself. Still don't really. Jessrawk is in heaven or somewhere very similar.
Reverse chronology. Sunday night held an unexpected visit from Adam. He hasn't been out in forever, as he put it. Still as kind and gentle as ever. I miss him more when I see him than when I don't... if that makes any sense at all.
Sunday morning was officially Ex-Boyfriend's Best Friend Bus Ride. No joke, fully three of my Ex-Boyfriend's Best Friends were on the same bus with me. A little creepy, to say the least. I only talked to one, because seeing the other two was just enough to freak me out. Yowza. Talk about karmic coincidences.
Saturday was a full-tilt night. The whole weekend was full of extreme opposites. Saturday night was my brother's 'Bon Voyage to Australia' party, followed by Lister's 'Homecoming from L.A.' show/party. It was amazing to have them up on the stage at Zaphod's again. Everything just seemed right. Back to good times, grand people, perfect conversation. The scoop is: they're playing Canada Day [again!] with Garry spinning [again!]. Rocksolid. Make plans to be there, no matter what city you currently reside in. Seriously. Not to be missed. Garry promised to play all things indiecanrock. thrushhermit superfriendz flashinglights sloan gracebabies etcetc. I cannot wait.
I danced with Pretty Bus Boy. A lot. And he was alone that night [he was leaving Friday night when we arrived as well]. But did I actually say anything to him? Noooo of course not. I thought about it at one point, but I got interrupted mid-crush. I'm such a geek, I know.
Speaking of crush-overload, Alain [aka i-rock] posted something that I simply must put up here because it explains my silly antics... sort of? Ha! Cross-referencing rules:
Biochemists have demonstrated that, during [a crush], the human brain produces a hormone called phenylethylamine. It's this hormone that's responsible for the euphoric states we experience when we fall in love. This hormone seems to have the same effects as cocaine. If the object of your affection leaves you during this period, it's almost certain to result in traumatic heartbreak. If you become addicted to phenylethylamine, you're the one who will leave when you feel your passion diminish, and you will find a new flame that will once more stimulate phenylethylamine production. In this way, you will go from passion to passion, incapable of a true romantic commitment.
On the other hand, if you accept the inevitable decrease in passion, your brain will replace the production of phenylethylamine with the production of endorphins, which possess the same properties as morphine. You will then be able to live a quite and happy life, resting peacefully in each other's arms. Your relationship will satisfy you.
If you don't know that's me to a T, you don't know me.
Best for last: Friday night. I can't even say it, but it was perfection. I think it's forgotten for now, but I don't care. If I'm lucky [and a lot of my luck stemmed from snatching two lucky pennies from the ground this weekend, I believe], something might just work out in my favour. That is, of course, if I'm not too chicken to do something about it. Cross your toes for me, please. I need it, with my track record.
I don't think this summer could possibly get any better. Oh wait. There's just one thing left.
'Everybody sexareeno!' - Les Sexareenos
