On being Energetic...

Sometimes, I like to stay up, and out, until the sun is shining bright in the clear blue sky and I know that I've had just about as much fun as I could possibly have. Like Friday. And Saturday. I am usually the one saying "no way, I refuse to believe it's XX:XX am! Come on, it's sooo early!"

I feel bad for everyone that had a boring, run-of-the-mill weekend when I had all this love around me, and the Energetic part of me was rolling in it like a pig in mud.

First, on Friday, when I should have been resting up for what was coming on Saturday, I biked and danced along the streets of the Plateau with a troupe of beautiful young innocents who would never want to hurt a soul. Saw a guy I recognized outside a 99 cent slice pizza place and asked him if his name was Patrick. It was. He was the guy that opened for The Stills when I saw them at Club Soda, Patrick Watson.

But highest on my list of memorable events was an awesome conversation at Korova with my friend Button. There is nothing more reassuring than knowing that, on issues that have taken up much of your time and mental energy, your friends agree with you. Sweet.

On Saturday I was awoken by a well intentioned call from my dad on my cell. When I hung up I wanted to throw the phone on the armchair andget back in bed, but I ended up throwing it against the wall, because that's how little restorative sleep I had had. Needed to get up anyway, take the bride's dress to her hotel room, get my hair done, my nails done, drain my bank account and whatnot.

My cameras were stolen from my apartment recently and I forgot to buy a disposable so I have no pictures of my own of the wedding. It was awesome. What a ceremony! Everyone was crying, the girls were passing around a used hanky to dab our eyes while Anna married Fred in two languages. Again, the reassurance of being there when two people who have known each other since puberty do this thing in front of a bunch of other people who have mostly known them just as long or longer, is beautiful.

And that was my second most memorable moment: Jen's husband Mark restoring my faith in faith, in the existence of love and good coincidences. I cannot smile enough. It was like someone was showing me something that I always knew was there, this place that I used to live in but that I left a long time ago because I was young and hurt and I wanted to run away. I thought this place had ceased to exist without me, but it turns out it's alive and well if you believe Mark about it. And trust me, you believe Mark when he tells it.

Saturday turns into Sunday and weddings and me in tight dresses do strange things to cute boys. I want to declare myself innocent. Like I said to my friend Shane a lot earlier this morning, in my journeys I have found that men and women often overestimate each other. We women think that men know what they're doing, but they don't. And you men think that we women know what we're doing, but we don't. One of the two probably needs to tell the other that.

On an on-going quest for meaningful communication, more of this love stuff, and not too many vodka tonics if possible, I leave you with The Stills:

don't be afraid to be afraid here with me
and plunge
little worm
into the worm-hole with me.