After Live Your Dreams 2010 last night, I hailed a cab on 4th Avenue, using my Lady Dada disco stick. I was still wearing my Lady Dada get-up, which consisted of: rainbow sequinned mini-dress, black patent and zebra platform heels, black dominatrix gloves, my hair teased into a hair bow, and a blue thunderbolt painted on my face. I looked like a character out of Jem and the Holograms, really.

"You look really nice," said the cabbie sincerely, a middle aged Moroccan man. "You look special, what's going on?"

I explained the concept of LYD - that you come as your dream version of yourself.

"This is my dream version of myself, " I explained. "I'd like to be a pop singer. That would be fun."

"OK," said the cabbie. "Sing me something."

And so I did, as we sped from Kitsilano to Gastown. The cabbie listened sincerely, squinting at me appraisingly every now and then in his rear view mirror.

"That's good," he said approvingly when I had finished. "You really can sing! What is your job now?"

"I'm a lawyer," I told him. He laughed.

"Well, that's a little different I guess," he said. "You make money, but that's not everything, right? You need to be happy."

I agreed.

"Yes, you can't take it with you," he said thoughtfully. "You need to have a happy life, that's the key. These people...they work and work and work and live in big houses, but then they die and someone else enjoys their money. I don't make much money, and I don't own a house. But I have a happy life. And I've travelled and seen the world. That's better."

"So what would you be, if you had to be your dream version of yourself?" I asked him.

"This is it," he said. "I enjoy my work. I am comfortable; I live in Canada, I won't starve. And I have time to spend with family and friends and to travel around the world. I have a happy life and have fun. That's my dream self. To have a happy life and have fun."

Amen.