Why does this keep happening to me?

You know when you have a few days that are so amazingly good that you almost shake your head with disbelief afterwards? You say to yourself, "I'm going to remember this for months -- maybe years -- to come." Your senses are heightened to the pleasures of simply living, to your connectedness to others, to the seemingly infinite potential of your own life?

I keep having weekends like that. Over and over again. Last weekend was like that. And I am starting to think that this is going to be a pattern. Meet friends, have drinks, explore the city... Equals recipe for life-affirming and transformative experience.

I went to two gargantuan parties on Saturday night. One was a fancy 20's style ball. The other was a large rockabilly loft party. Both were teeming and heaving and shaking with good people and good music. I danced. I drank. I laughed. I should not go on any more because words almost devalue these kinds of experiences. I took the night bus home at 3:30 in the morning -- it was also teeming with people -- winding through the southern and the western environs of central Montreal, flanked by dark brick buildings, and I had a smile on my face. I have a smile on my face often. I've gone from such a miserable wretch to someone almost POSITIVE a lot of the time. Dare I say it? Positive!

The grass is greener on the other side. Sometimes the change you need is not INSIDE you, it is OUTSIDE you.

Although it is still very, very early in my tenure here in Montreal, I feel more and more like I might flourish here. I dare to dream of future happiness. I dare to plan sinking long-term roots here. I love -- above all -- living somewhere that I love.

I love the way people line up in an orderly fashion for the bus, waiting patiently and courteously. I love how -- in stark contrast -- people then become crazy impatient maniacs the second they are behind the wheel of a car. Why? No matter! Another thriller is the completely daredevil nature of pedestrians. They will jaywalk across the road within centimetres of a truck plummeting towards them... like it is a sport.

I love the music in Guy Concordia metro. Every time. Even when it's music I don't really like. I love that the musicians play with such spiritedness.

I love the way the pigeons gather at the statue of Norman Bethune and erupt into the sky when you approach, flying around in a bewildering pattern. And shit on the very same statue of Norman Bethune.

I love the late crowds on the Verdun bus. They look so scary when you get on. And yet everybody is completely calm.

I love how much the staff at the express Altaib hate their customers! They look at you with such hate that it is almost absurdly funny!

I love that you can walk into a wonderfully classy cafe on one side of Sherbrooke and be treated like royalty by French speaking servers, and go into a bar on the other side of Sherbrooke, still be served in French, but be surrounded by neon and Budweiser signs and trashy women and think, Jesus, this could be Argyll Road, Edmonton! AC/DC forever!

I love that people love people -- genuinely seem to want to be with people -- here. They act like people, talk like people, live life to the fullest as people, just as you would expect from rational people. They do not see you as a means to their own end. They are happy that you just be you.

I love that the future of my life in this city fills me with anxiety/excitement/hope instead of anxiety/dread/pessimism.

It's not always good here... but when it's good, by God, it is very, very good. Joie de vivre? Holy shit yes. That is exactly what it is.