How is it that time makes us so goddamned nostalgic for things that at the time made us borderline miserable. I just watched a movie with a key scene at Love Parade in Berlin, and when I was there in 2003 the reality reeked of piss and booze, was disorientingly chaotic, and overall juvenile. But I got almost weepy remembering a few special moments, like leading my boyfriend at the time around by the hand because he had just eaten his first pot brownie and was too high to know which end was up. And stopping at a booth to get an airbrush tattoo, picking something fierce and wicked, only to find out later there was mix up and I wound up with a tiny wimpy daisy! The city was turned upside down and it was a bitch to get around anywhere, and when we finally made it home to the artist commune we lived in, the building was partying full blast, inside and out. But we watched a couple of episodes of The Family Guy, made nice hubba hubba, and snuggled until we fell asleep. Guess it was all about love after all.