Not in the biblical sense.

Friends who you know, and who know you, make life amazing. I am full of delicious thai food. Last night was Dr. T's b-day and he was back in town from Minnesota ("Thank god" - words straight from the doc's mouth); so he picked Osha Thai at the Embarcadero. I'm debating writing a review on Yelp-just cause I don't feel like they need one; there were enough wannabe trendsters and pseudo hip Asians clogging that restaurant to last a lifetime. Me being one of them.

Before dinner though, I had quite a few minutes to spare, so I decided to shop around downtown for a b-day present for Rawbean. The day before, I had found what I thought was the PERFECT present. But then I second guessed myself, "Wait, if it's totally perfect...she probably already has one." shit. I call her bf, Buckethead, to no avail. I give up. So Day 2: Waltzed into J.Crew...nothing. Took a look at some other trendy shoe/accessory/purse boutiques; finally ended up at my go-to stop; Borders. Because if your friend is a normal human being, generally they will like to :

a) watch movies
b) read books
c) listen to music
or some combination thereof.

I stop by the Sci-Fi section - nothing
Cooking section - nothing
Crafting section - nothing
New literature - nothing

Sensing the trend here? Of course, being the narcisstic shopper, I pick up a book (the delicious and presumptous, but seminal 'Art of Eating' by MFK Fisher) for myself and find out the release date for the HBO 'John Adams' (June 2008-just in time for...uh...watching); but as racks of cds swim before my eyes and DVD after DVD becomes just one big colored swirl 'neath slippery plastic vacumn wrappers-I can't figure out anything to get my friend. My friend who loves English literature, Star Wars, the Pixies and Jurassic 5 and Smashing Pumpkins. But this was all when we were 23. It's now five years later, and...this thought scared the beejeebus out of me.

What if I don't know my friend anymore?

Me, the ever determinate and detailed Taurus. The one who knows what she's buying before she's even on the train to get to the store. And the 3 next alternatives. For even the most particular of her friends. Dear god, Rawbean and I were roomates for two years and now, a scant time later, I couldn't tell you if she would prefer Vampire Weekend over Flight of the Concords. Or the Strokes. My brain starts to hurt and my arm ache from carrying the massive 600 page tome of Fisher around and around the store. I go back to the Sci Fi section-their Star Wars stuff sucks and the cookbooks all blur into a mass of bright colors and cuisines. I try Wen, she's at dinner and doesn't pick up her phone.

It's a harsh, harsh reality. To call someone a friend and yet not be able to map out in detail, the little nuances that make them them. See, you know, when you're a friend, whether to get them the black shirt or the pink shirt. When you stop by a boutique, you start to rename items by the people in your life that would use them. It's a matter of pride and loyalty more than the perfect gift. It's being a true friend. True friends, yes stick by you and challenge you and will do the things that they think are crazy but you think are awesome. You know their second favorite color and why you can't use 'that' pillow. They know that ice cream counts as a lunch food and don't make fun of your security blanket. But being a true friend also takes time, years of understanding and chai and crying and laughing and all that good Hallmark shit.

And I felt like I was more in the Wal-mart region.

Grasping at straws, I try Buckethead one more time. This time he answers: "Hey! Sorry I didn't get back to you yesterday, I was sick. But yeah, the [thing] you were mentioning-she doesn't have anything like that. If you got it for her, I think she'd be happy about it."

That perfect gift? Just got perfecter.