1. The trannie gets a lot more press, but you were my first true love. That time in the gym when you picked me as your ballroom dancing partner out of all the other girls in the sixth grade, I thought I'd die, DIE, of happiness. Even my braces were letting off tiny sparks of joy. I thought that you looked like Joey McIntyre. My parents almost died that I was 11 and demanded to start dating, but I loved going roller skating and having awkward phone conversations with you. Now that you're a goth DJ you'd probably be embarrassed to admit (or sniff, would you even remember?!) that our song was Some Kind of Wonderful from Dirty Dancing. (Ha, the best part is that I still don't know who sings that song... The Dirty Dancing Soundtrack is a band, right?)
2. I know I haven't seen you in awhile, but I gotta level with you: Not a fan, my friend, not a fan. And you know it. You were always sheepish around me, because you know Red don't play that. I don't like generic fratty guys like you, and I especially don't like when my friends are hung up on generic fratty guys like you. You've said numerous times that you don't want to be with her, so why don't you just leave her alone? Seems easy enough. You know you're just messing with her head. I almost wish I'd run into you at CVS so I could just say, "Hey, how are you? I know, it's been forever! How's work? How's your family? Oh, no kidding! Great. Oh, and STOP. CALLING. HER." I know it's none of my bidness but so help me I'd say it. Also? Why are you thirty years old and still wearing shiny shirts and clubbing every weekend with your boyz? Gay much?
3. I know that you'll either be the President of the United States or a homeless guy standing on a milk crate outside Starbucks urging us to see the irony in our actions. You can be totally infuriating, patronizing, and my friends will probably never forget that time you kicked your dog. But you and I have been friends for a long time and I still want to know that you're okay.
4. I know that your sickness and skewed perception of the world continues to hold you back, and I'm worried about you, as always. On a lighter note, I saw your ex-girlfriend on MySpace and holy shit, she's 31 but she looks ten times cuter than she did in college. What the hell? I almost wanted to email her and tell her that but it seemed like an odd way to start a conversation, you know? Oh, and I can't believe you're opening for Guster this weekend. That's rad.
5. I'm glad we're still friends. I'm glad you save emails that I sent you ten years ago and then resend them to me so I can relive being a drunk 19-year-old again. Happy birthday!