Today marks the one-year anniversary of Madonna's Madison Square Garden show of the Drowned World Tour. I wasn't even supposed to go to this concert - I bought a single ticket as a contingency plan on the off chance that I wouldn't score tickets for her New Jersey show, which a large group of my friends from work (and of course Jen) ended up getting tickets to. (In an unfortunate turn of events, Madonna cancelled the Jersey show, but that is too negative a topic for the lovefest you are about to read.) Instead of selling the MSG ticket, I kept it, and decided to go alone. Jerry scored a single ticket to the MSG show, as did a friend of his, so we went to the show together, even though we figured the chances of sitting together were slim to none.

Other than a few company happy hours, I had never gone out with Jerry before, so I can honestly say that July 25, 2001 was the beginning of an era. Not only did I get to dance with Jerry and John throughout the whole concert, but I realized for the first time the beauty of being sandwiched between two incredibly hot, sweaty, gay men. I was like the creamy filling of a big gay Oreo cookie. Not only that, but Madge knows how to put on a concert. It was a visual and visceral extravaganza (plus waiters walked around with trays of champagne and strawberries - nice touch, Madonna.)

Madonna is a legend, and after being an off and on fan for nearly 18 years, I was thrilled to finally have the chance to see her live. But she did much more for me that day than give an amazing performance. She brought me together with people that I consider good friends, people that I hope will still be in my life 10 years from now for Madonna's Sparkling Universe tour, or whatever she's into in 2012.

Thank you, Madonna. And Happy Anniversary!