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Lunch today with Aggie in honour of her 23rd birthday tomorrow. Is it midnight yet? I'll jump the gun:

Happy Birthday, Ags!

This is our eighteenth year together. She was my first Best Friend and I love her dearly. She's one of those who's pretty much in sister territory, you know, the kind of friend who's so omnipresent that you tend to take them for granted. To do this is to sell Erica short. The depth of my feeling for her is rarely expressed, and it ought to be more. It really ought. It's been a weird year for us both, great in some ways and terrible in some more ways. And I haven't seen her as much as I used to, as much as I'd like. And I miss her. She is my Aggie. I want to try and not take her for granted so much anymore. And when I want something, don't I often get it? Often I do.

The rest of today went as such: Kirsten and I met with my friend Tommy down at Pier 54 and we attended a free concert. For the price it was pretty good, although the middle act, one DJ Sasha, made me want to sort of kill myself. My feet were dying by the time Moby came on and I could only stand to stay through four or so of his songs. But they were good ones. I was especially taken with his way of saying, "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" after each number.

Then I came home and that's it. Aimee's new CD is out today and I saw it at Virgin, and wondered where the hell my copy is, seeing as I ordered it off of her website weeks and weeks ago. I'm disgruntled. It's a fucking fabulous album-- perhaps her best yet, I'm uncertain, I'm torn, I hesitate to make that statement, but I'm so fucking taken with Lost in Space.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:43 PM | shower me with attention