So I know I have a reputation for being arrogant and boorish and a more than occasional braggart. I accept this. So for a change of pace, I'll put my well tooted horn down for a little while for a story about how much of an insensitive prick I can be.

So about my aforementioned, past, unrequited love, BK. Well, back about four or five years ago, this ex-lover and good friend met the love of her life and promptly got engaged. As we were still very good friends, I was invited to the wedding. As potentially painful as that event might have been, considering I spent more than a fair amount of time weeping unashamedly on my couch over her, I was flattered and honored and very keen on attending. However, this was also the year that Jimbo up and quit his job, took off to Africa with a stranger, and spent a summer knocking about California with his baby brother on leave from the Marine Corps. It was also the summer that no less than twelve of my friends decided to marry. Yes. That wasn’t a typo. Twelve. And seven more were having children.

I swear I needed to find new friends after that.

With my familial obligation crashed out on my couch, my status as a beach bum living off a meager (at best) savings account of $3500, and no job prospects on the horizon, I made the difficult decision to decline all invites that year with the sole exception of my sister’s wedding. That one was most assuredly a don't-miss lest I suffer the severe consequences from two very, very irate Italian women who are remarkably, genetically, expertly capable of holding an epic grudge for a long, LONG time.

Despite all that, as I had just returned from Africa, I had a huge slide show of pictures from my trip, and I decided to organize a dinner party to show them off to all my friends at once. Unfortunately, the only day that fit for everyone was the day of my BK’s wedding.

A few weeks after making the decision to go ahead with the shindig, my brother and I were about to split for a weekend of camping and downhill mountain bike riding at Big Bear with James and Anne (who is doing very well in her recovery and is now making the media rounds in case you were wondering), and hurriedly dashed off an email invitation for the party before I left.

Sometime that night I shot bolt upright in my tent and screamed "Shit! I sent her the invite!" In my haste I had sent the party invitation to my entire "friends" list. Including BK.

By the time I arrived back home the following day, the damage was done. I had no time to compose a contrite, explanatory and deeply apologetic note or call to grovel.

Waiting for me in my inbox was the most scathing email I have ever received. And the most scathing email I have most deserved.

To make matters even worse, my brother had borrowed and was riding HER mountain bike while we were away. I have never in my life felt like more of an asshole.

That she and I are still friends is remarkable to say the very least.

Thanks BK for the gift of forgiveness. I know I sure as hell didn’t deserve it.