Every year, my girlfriend and I have a huge birthday blow out. Our birthdays are two weeks apart, so a few years ago we started a tradition. One year we went to Whistler with the girls (which, I might add, was the first time I had ever been to the wonderful ski resort in all my years of living in B.C.) Last year, we planned a night out in downtown Vancouver. We went bar hopping (got kicked out of one for starting a fight...soooo wasn't me...) This year, our plan was to go to the Casino. Like always, we sent out a mass text to everyone we know, bought gorgeous sparkly dresses, and waited for what has become the rowdiest night of the year. This year, I got sick. Like horribly sick. Like I have been attached to my Kleenex box, Advil Cold and Flu, and chicken noodle soup for the past 4 days. My nose is raw, my throat is on fire, and I'm pretty sure it's gone into Bronchitis (but that might just be the hypochondriac in me...) The party went on. Without me. While I was on the couch watching horribly romantic love stories complete with men who DO NOT EXIST, and a plot line that has been done like a thousand times before, my friends were getting their groove on. While I was high on tea and decongestants, they were getting their fill of beer and shooters. I'm not going to lie, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. I had high hopes my friends, hopes of winning big at the blackjack table, and meeting the man of my dreams. It was going to be an awesome way to spend my 32nd birthday. Side Note: I do not recommend either "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" or "The Ugly Truth" however, I always enjoy "Bridget Jones" - something about Mark Darcy that just makes me swoon (Colin Firth is sooooo yummy!) So, get this...while I was lying, nearly dying - I might add, on my couch...guess who showed up to MY birthday party? Mr. Married. Mr. Married showed up at my party. And guess who he showed up with? His wife. Uh...huh? As if right on cue, in walked my former fling, with his new girlfriend. What is wrong with these people? Are they insane? Did they not get the memo that this was MY party? Am I the only one who thinks that this is highly inappropriate? Not to mention awkward? They didn't know I was sick. In fact, Mr. Married texted me wondering where I was. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I didn't go...me + Mr. Married + alcohol = trouble. Me + Mr. Married + alcohol + WIFE = Disaster. And Mr. Fling. Don't even get me started. I loved him. He was so wonderful. I'm glad that he found someone who could make him happy, I really, really am. I mean, we just were wrong for each other on so many levels. But do you have to rub it in my face? Do you? That's just mean. The couch is looking mighty fine right about now. I think I'm going to stay here for the remainder of the winter. I'd like to miss out on the whole holiday celebrations while being single once again. Spring seems like a good time to get off the couch.