h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I've just got back from a weekend in London, part general lonesome indulgence and part Lifeitself meetup. It... well, it really WAS. We had a lovely time. I had a lovely time, at least. I'll write about the Sunday first. I'm prone to using superlatives, but only because I really believe them- it turns out members of LifeItself are the most fabulous humans you could hope to find.

Currently, I'm 38 hours awake and counting. I've been experiencing the delightfully innovative effects of sleep deprivation all day, and I'm quite enjoying it. Wild mood swings have made me both completely in love with the whole world, grinning and bouncing on my heels, and also fairly paranoid. So of course, I fear that maybe I was at times a bit TOO Emma, and now everyone hates me. The main thing is that it isn't possible for me to go out somewhere and not dance. I just can't, I just can't, I just can't control my feet, etc. So in my head it's "Oh, Christ on a bike. Why is that BLOODY embarrassing woman dancing? Please, let me sidle..."

Anyway, we drank like terribly middle-class tramps in the park, M&S catered, in arty deckchairs (I was sitting on Michael Nyman. Chris was Quentin Blake. Adam on some horrible, horrible John Lennon thing, and Adrian... I can't remember. Not the Chinese pastoral, though). Then Trash Palace, and then the terribly sad departure of Adrian. Mr Wu's or something for Chinese, in keeping with the theme of the day, and gut-rot wine, plus the revelatory correct handling of chopsticks. After that, some dancing (mostly just me) in... I don't know where. It being a Sunday night, that was curtailed all too soon. I think some pimp avoidage possibly followed. Then we lost another as Chris went to ground. It took longer than the most powerful human minds can possibly imagine for the night bus to get to Adam's house, where we stayed up all night in his kitchen, drinking neat spirits and dancing to Kylie. As Scissor Sisters sang up the sun, we sat in the garden with cups of tea, and lo! He proclaimed that it was Good. And so, to Camden Market. At the time ordained in ancient prophecy, two increasingly fatigued figures pooled their dimming resources to find Victoria coach station, which turned out to be quite difficult, actually. Upon returning to Cardiff I went, perhaps unwisely, not home but straight to my soon-come house and had some more to drink, but only while prone. It threatened to turn into a full-blown party, so I had to leave. And here I am, at last. More please!

Now I should probably go to sleep, though I have the next two days off and would be interested to see what happens when you don't sleep for three days or more. Well, maybe another time. Excuse all this, if rambling and dull. Adam has a beautiful nose, by the way.

Funny thing is, everything is always the most amazing weekend ever, or something like that. And so was this one. They always are, at the time! I was in the coach going home beaming to myself about how much I love my life. These are the reasons for living.