Proustian Cookie

This song is my biggest Proust Cookie ever. EVERY time I hear this song I am on the seat of a bus rolling through some mountains in the South of France. It's a tour bus, and the other 42 art students are all asleep. Not me. I am JOYOUS, and I am bouncing along to THIS song so hard my seat mate moved. The sun is breaking, and I am listening to a mix tape from my boyfriend. It has endless liner notes, not with song information, but with lovely personal associations for each song, that come to think of it, could have come straight out of PCSRoH. 

The landscape is beautiful, I am the only witness, besides the driver, to the French farmers trudging out to their barns, to the twisty crazy roads, ponds, stone houses, and other unbelievably scenic shit that everyone but me is missing.

That's pretty much it. I'm crazy in love, I have the proof in my hand and my ears that it's mutual, even if a continent away. I am all alone, with an avalanche of eye candy, and utterly happy. That moment was 20 some years ago, but every time I hear this song, it's right fucking now.