Yesterday was one of those amazing, luminous days, the days that you remember forever, the days that make life worth living. Lunch at Kruse & Muer, Emma's weird wedding, bowling between the ceremony and the reception, staying at the reception until they kicked us out, enjoying ourselves despite the dreadfulness of the GB/Flinttown social scene, and ending up, as so many nights should and do, with late night eats at Angelo's; these things were great, but the real majesty was in the company: Skeeter, Saturday Night Latham, Boof Daddy, Steve Reed (who's never needed a nickname), and Lindsay. I've tried to explain to people, Lindsay included, why Grand Blanc is so great, but I think a better way is to show them. The real magic of Grand Blanc is not in the place (treasure though I do every inch of the drive from Hill Road down Saginaw Street), but in the people: the Blue Tree Whacking gang, the old high school crew. With the lovely exception of Lindsay, all of my dearest friends grew up here.

Tomorrow, worlds collide. For the first time, friends from outside BTW are coming to one of my shows. Historically, I have been against mixing friends, but I never otherwise feel alive in quite the same way as I do on stage, and I want all of my friends to see that part of my life. I am a difficult person to get along with - I am vain and defensive, arrogant and awkward - but up there all I feel is joy, and I want these people, who mean so much to me even though I never do enough to show them, to know that part of me. Also, new friends will be thrown into the mix; fantastic singer/songwriter The Watergirl, an online friend with much potential, will be there. Tomorrow, my friends, tomorrow has the makings of glory.

In the little time I've seen him in the last few days, the Bald Mountain and I have watched episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Two of my favorite things together in the same room; Lord above, I am more blessed than I deserve.