Lost in love on a Saturday night

Trying to write a paper, I've turned to memory as distraction. My last paper at McGill, ever, and I feel like a part of me, a small part, doesn't want to finish it because of what that means. And listening to Air Supply, I'm lost in an 80's love song mood. There's something about the synth that brings me back.

I looked at my calendar, and realized how quickly things are moving, how fast this past month has gone by, and how much I've tried to cram in to my days. I wish there was something I could do to make this last, this life that has made me. Every day keeps getting better and better, my home and my friends and this city.

Last night I had a super-date, first with Helen at dinner, then met up with her boyfriend and my non-boyfriend for a movie. Downfall. While heavy as sin, and difficult, and gruesome, I am going to highly recommend it. Even for the historically inept... well... maybe read up on the failure of the Third Reich beforehand. It was moving and incredibly well done, harsh and real and terrifying. Beautiful and awesome. So well done, and moving, and... oh go watch it. You will understand.

We all needed a drink, so headed off to the bar for an hour. I am actually dating the nicest boy in the world. We had our first sleepover, prompted by his rationale that it was too far for me to walk the extra two blocks home. I have the goofy grin on my face again. I got a great neckrub to counter my headbanging injuries, and we finally got to bed around 4. He even set the alarm half an hour early so we could hang out for a while in the morning. I swear I am on cloud nine. Its a great cap to my year, and a very lovely filler for all the free time I will have next week after I hand this paper in.

Its getting late, and I have 3 more pages to write before I am allowed to go to bed. Off to the fascists with me.