For you:

My best friend's getting married. She wants to have a ceremony on the beach, followed by live music by our dj friends and, once it starts to get dark, a bonfire. And so I've begun researching bonfires around here.

Yeah. It's not gonna be easy.

Plus, the electronic music? Apparently we're not supposed to have any amplified sound. But I'm thinking that if we include all of that stuff in our use permit application, we should be covered. At least, that's what I'm hoping.

Anyway, just wanted to let all y'all know. Not that it really matters, but it's a fuckin' cool thing when two people find each other and make that decision to build a life together. Amen.

I'm off to bed now. I thought I had enough energy to actually write something, but it turns out I way over-estimated myself. G'night. Sweet dreams. Or, as my mother used to say to me when I was a kid, suena con los angelitos.

(And now you say, y tu, tambien. Well done!)

Peace.

So, I survived the night...more or less. The whole thing was really all right for me, in that there was no real awkwardness or ickyness or hostility or anything like that. I laughed a lot, I met some cool people, had yummy drinks, got to celebrate my friend's b-day, and was feeling good about myself in general.

Ladies, you know about this, right? Some days are just Ugly Days, where it doesn't matter in reality whether or not you're looking good; you just feel ugly. And then some days are Hot Days, where you know your mojo is workin' and all the boys flock to you. Right? Right! And yesterday was a Hot Day for me -- thank the gods!

Anyway, the only tough thing about last night is that I did see Ex-Friend. He actually came over to me and hugged me, which I have to admit kinda took me by surprise. I sort of half-rose from my bar booth seat and half-assedly hugged him back, but greeted him with a dazzling smile, trying to convey a sense of, hey, no harm, no foul here! I think it worked.

The hard part, tho', is twofold:

(1) I got a really strong feeling that he wanted to talk to me, that he wanted to be funny with me, to make me laugh, to connect somehow. He kept trying to bring up subjects and debates that, given the others sitting in my bar booth, only really the two of us could engage in (regarding very specific types of music and artists, etc.). But he was so hammered that I think he himself found his efforts to be lacking, and I didn't help matters by allowing myself to be pulled away from his commentary all too easily. It made me feel sort of rude, and in the past I would've tried to find him and give him an opportunity to complete his thought, but I kept reminding myself that this person makes me feel like shit most of the time, so let it go.

(2) Seeing EF made me really, really, really, really miss having him in my life. Last night after I left, and all day today, I've had this ache where I keep trying to devise excuses to text him or e-mail him or even call him, just to try to cling to some small thread of what we once were. He was my best friend. And now, seeing him again, well...I just wish we were good for each other. But, if there's one thing I've learned in my long-but-still-young years, it's that loving someone, be it family, friend, or lover, does not automatically mean you're good for each other. In fact, it's the very people you love the most that can deal you the highest amount of damage. (Just ask any videogame fanatic; they'll tell ya.)

So, I survived, but now I'm sad again, not 'cause I had a bad time, but because I had a good time, and wish I could have it again.

Askin' a lot, eh?

*sigh*

I don't know anymore. When is it the right thing to stick to your guns, and when should you just let go of your Word and give someone another chance? I don't know anymore. (Wait, I already said that. Nevermind.)

Well, today's the day. It's funny, 'cause I'm not really nervous anymore. I'm going to have a good time in the park this afternoon with a bunch of people that I really like, then I'm gonna go and meet up with a lot of people that I don't know anymore, including Ex-Friend, but it's gonna be O.K. Everything else in this life is so good that an hour or two of discomfort cannot keep me from being happy. What a thing, eh?

I've been freaking out lately. My friend is having a birthday party in three weeks, and Ex-Friend (EF) is going to be there. I don't care so much about seeing EF; it's mostly that I wish I were looking better, that I hadn't gained so much weight over the last two years, and that I wish I had a hot boyfriend to drag along to this party as a sort of status symbol -- y'know, so that all of the people that used to comprise my Circle of Friends but that essentially dropped me when EF and I ceased communication will know that I don't need them ANYWAY!

*sigh*

I wish I were more grown-up, or at the very least more mature. Turns out I'm neither.

I also wish I didn't have to go to this party, but it's kind of required, from a personal ethics kind of place. Y'see, my friend who's throwing the party recently almost died while in the hospital, and she's got this renewed sense of living and celebrating life. How could I possibly turn away from her? Being an insecure idiot is not a good enough reason.

Yesterday was a Day -- capital "D"! It was one of those days when every single customer was just a little too whiny and implacable, where every copy you try to make gets a paper jam, where every step you take in your cute platform loafers feels like you're about to fall on your ass.

Yeah. One of those Days.

So, when I went to Target after work to buy toothpaste and window cleaner, and some guy tried to steal my parking space, I turned into one of those confrontational, insistent types.

Here's how it happened:

I pulled into the South Marketplace Shopping Center. I drove to the row right in front of the Target, and while I was coming around the corner, I noticed a guy loading stuff into the back seat of his car. Perfect, I tho't, finally a break on this hellacious day! The spot was only, like, five spaces away from the front door, and since my feet were not cooperating that day, I figured it'd be best to not have to walk very far.

Plus, I was tired and already cranky from my Day.

So, I stopped and turned on my blinker, indicating that I was waiting for this guy to leave so I could take his spot. And, as is the natural way of things, he left, and just as I began to move forward to turn into the space, this car zooms out from behind me, swings around my car, and pulls into the space.

WHAT????

I began to honk like a mad woman, as though I was having a diabetic fit and the horn was a needle full of insulin.

The guy decided to ignore me, probably figuring that, in such a polite little country town, the Crazy Lady will be too embarrassed to press the issue.

He had no idea.

I put my car in "Park," removed my key from the ignition, and jumped -- yes, literally jumped! -- out of my car, yelling, "Excuse me! Ex-cuse me! That's my space!"

The man stared at me in dumb silence.

"I had my blinker on. I was waiting for that guy to leave. That's my space."

More stunned silence.

Then, finally he said:

"Look, you were only there a minute. I've been looking for a spot for a lot longer than that."

To which I replied, "Well, I'm sorry you left to try to find a better spot, but that one's mine. Thank you! That's my space."

One more round of stunned silence.

So I said, in a slightly higher-pitched and more desperate tone, "I'm gonna have to insist. Thank you. That's my spot. I don't care. Thank you."

Yeah.

He got in his car and left...to park in the spot that, in the course of our little encounter, had opened up two spots down. Now, I know some of you may be thinking that I probably should have let it go and taken the other spot. To this I answer:

HELL NO!

The whole point is that I had my blinker on, and I had been waiting for that particular spot. He needed to be taught some manners, and I was just the Crazy Lady to oblige.

ROAR!!!!

Y'wanna know why Friendster sucks? Because they don't have a customer service e-mail address. Oh, no, that'd be too much work for them! Instead you have to sift through their 13 pages of FAQs and hope that one of them addresses your issue -- which, by the way, has never been the case for me!

I hate Friendster!

So, here's the scoop:

When I used to have a Friendster account, I also had a blog, and since I wanted to be able to format my blog and do some reasonably cool stuff, I had a blog for which I paid $8.95/mo. When I followed the online process to cancel my account, I tho't that would also cancel my blog.

I tho't wrongly.

Turns out the blog aspect of the whole Friendster thing is actually run by a company called Six Apart Ltd. (SAL). For some reason, you have to contact them separately to cancel your blog.

I wrote to Friendster's suggestions e-mail address ('cause, as I already said, they don't have a customer service one) saying they should probably let customers know this at some point during the whole canceling-the-account process. Friendster's suggestions team wrote back saying, yeah, y'know what, you're right! We probably should! Weird that we don't. Huh. Head-scratcher, that!

So I went to SAL's site to ask them to stop charging me for my Friendster blog, as the account had been canceled.

A couple of months went by, and I saw that I was still being charged $8.95 every month by SAL. I finally had enough and contacted my bank to dispute the most current charge and any future charges. As a result, my debit card has been canceled and my bank is issuing me a new one, which means that, for the time being, I HAVE to either write checks or carry cash; otherwise I can't buy anything.

Convenient, no?

HELL NO!

And to top it all off, SAL is insisting that the account still exists, and therefore the blog still exists. I went around and around with them, saying, look, if you Google my site, it comes up with a, "No, it ain't there!" screen. IT DOES NOT EXIST!

SAL responded, well, sure, the blog itself doesn't exist, but the corresponding photo pages still exist, so we therefore get to keep charging you. If you want us to stop, you have to go back and cancel your Friendster account using their online process.

Anyone else beating their head against the wall yet? Damn!

So I went back and contacted Friendster -- which, if you'll recall, does not have a customer service e-mail address; I keep having to contact them through their suggestions e-mail address -- and explained the issue. I got a formulaic response saying that the suggestions department doesn't handle these kinds of questions, and I needed to go back and contact customer service.

And, yes, say it with me now, there is no customer service e-mail address to contact!!!

*sigh*

I seriously could cry.