I am so incredibly in love -- with Mike, with friends, with the crisp of Fall, with long and short and familiar walks, with surprises and that leftover drunk that comes after four days well spent. Mike surprised me with tickets to the Ray LaMontagne concert in Philly on Friday night. He'd been planning it since mid-June, and I've been walking around blissfully unaware until we were halfway through the parking lot at the Mann. I paused and said, No way. The rest of the night was surreal, even sitting on the toilet in the bathroom with my rain-soaked Toms and my tangled hair, I felt a rising that led to an almost-bursting. Sometimes, like this weekend, this birthday, life is so easy. And there are several moments, all bunched together, where the heart and the mind and all of the muscles relax. I kept joking with Mike, saying that each new day of the weekend was my birthday, but the truth is that I felt like it was.
Today I'm listening to Ray Ray on Pandora, and making multiple cups of pumpkin spice coffee more for the smell than the taste.
He opened with this song, one of my most favorites:
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