A severe lack of clouds

I keep getting myself lost in the smallest moments of happiness lately. It's almost as if I'm watching myself in a movie when this happens.

Tonight, for example, I was walking to my friend Lucie's house for a scrumptious dinner when I was struck by a sort of smug euphoria. Shuffling along Adelaide with the cold wind in my face and and my hood pulled snugly over my head, I was listening to the crescendo of my latest favourite song, To Lose My Life by White Lies (which makes me feel a bit spacey anyway), when I glanced to my right and observed yet again the crystal clarity of the downtown skyline and the lit up tower. Most nights here it's too cold for any cloud cover so the lights from the scenery are so bright it's astounding, and you can see the lines and shadows of the CN and the surrounding skyscrapers almost too clearly. As I perceived this for the hundredth time I felt my face fall into a beam of happiness, and watched myself turn and walk down University with the self-satisfied grin of a person who's somehow managed to plant themselves in a beautiful city.

The same happened on Monday night after a gig I went to review, where I'd had a surprisingly good time, met some really cool and interesting people and got some free Jager shots from my new friends the bartenders. I strode the two streets home and found myself stuck in a persistent grin which subsided only when I fell asleep.

It's strange how the little things and the random people can make you appreciate what you have, where you are and how comfortingly brilliant life really can be.