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"  [ED NOTE: Moving forward, Bedroom Blog will be posting every Tuesday/Thursday at 2 p.m.] I don&amp;#039;t think I&amp;#039;ve felt this bad since Peter and I broke up. I can&amp;#039;t believe what went down last night. The evening started out promising: Some friends from college just opened up this great bar in the East Village, and a bunch of us met for happy hour to support them. Ashley and I hadn&amp;#039;t seen each other since the night I told her about Luke. I knew she was going to be there, and I assumed Luke would be too. We&amp;#039;d had these happy hour plans for a few weeks now and I had the perfect outfit picked out for it, but all I wanted to do was bail. Nina was having none of that.  &amp;quot;You can&amp;#039;t hide from them forever,&amp;quot; she pointed out. I knew she was right, but still, I had a bad feeling before I even entered the bar.  That feeling intensified when I saw that the group was small\u2014out of the five people chatting around a table, Ashley and Luke were two of them. Nina wasn&amp;#039;t even there yet. I saw Ashley clench her jaw when I approached the group.  &amp;quot;Hey guys,&amp;quot; I said, a little nervously.  I received a warm greeting from everyone else, and curt hello&amp;#039;s from Ashley and Luke. So that&amp;#039;s how it&amp;#039;s going to be, I thought.  We all chit-chatted for a while, then someone asked me how my training was going.  &amp;quot;So good!&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m up to 10 miles this weekend.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;God, I can&amp;#039;t wait for the half-marathon so I don&amp;#039;t have to hear you talk about it anymore,&amp;quot; Ashley said with a laugh. I had to give it to her\u2014it was the most brilliant dig ever. Everyone else around the table took it as a joke, and laughed too. But we both knew the comment wasn&amp;#039;t said with an ounce of love.  I shrugged. &amp;quot;Sorry I&amp;#039;m so boring to you.&amp;quot;  The conversation resumed and I sent a text to Nina underneath the table, Where are you?! One block away! The knots in my stomach loosened up a little bit when Nina finally showed. She told a crazy story about how her cabbie serenaded her with a Boyz II Men song, everyone laughed, and I could feel the tension leaking out of the room. Until Ashley opened her big, fat mouth again.  &amp;quot;Nins, drink up or we&amp;#039;re going to miss the reservation.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;What reservation?&amp;quot; I asked.  &amp;quot;At Red Farm,&amp;quot; Nina said. Red Farm is this very trendy, impossible-to-get-into Chinese restaurant in the West Village. I&amp;#039;ve been dying to go. &amp;quot;Didn&amp;#039;t you\u2026&amp;quot; Nina trailed off as she realized, no, I didn&amp;#039;t know that dinner was happening after this.  &amp;quot;My friend is the new sous chef there and he got us a table really last minute,&amp;quot; Luke said by way of explanation.  &amp;quot;Cool,&amp;quot; I said. I sipped the rest of my drink, refusing to show that my feelings were utterly crushed by the fact that he and Ashley would so blatantly exclude me. &amp;quot;I have to get going, you guys. This was fun!&amp;quot; I pulled my coat on and stood up.  &amp;quot;Wait, let me walk you out,&amp;quot; Nina said, standing as well.  As soon as we were out of earshot from the rest of the group, I felt the tears well up in my eyes. &amp;quot;Nina, what the hell?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m so sorry, Jos. Ashley texted me literally an hour ago that Luke got the group a reservation. I assumed &amp;#039;the group&amp;#039; included you.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Well, clearly it didn&amp;#039;t.&amp;quot; I rubbed my fingers under my eyes and they came away with mascara on them. Damn you $36 &amp;quot;waterproof&amp;quot; designer mascara! &amp;quot;Do want me to not go? Nina asked. Then, &amp;quot;No, fuck it, I&amp;#039;m not going. That&amp;#039;s so cold.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No, go, please,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;If you don&amp;#039;t then it looks like I told you not to go and I don&amp;#039;t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that I even care.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;You sure?&amp;quot; Nina asked.  &amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; I said, firmly.  &amp;quot;Okay,&amp;quot; Nina said. &amp;quot;Are we still on to go dress shopping on Friday?&amp;quot; Earlier in the week, I had asked Nina if she would go with me to Bloomingdales to help me find a dress to wear to Justin&amp;#039;s sister&amp;#039;s engagement party. The mention of it actually made me feel better, because I was really looking forward to going to it.  &amp;quot;Yes, definitely,&amp;quot; I said. I gave her a hug goodbye and got into a cab.  I feel like I am in the eighth grade and I just got picked last for the dodgeball team in gym class (which happened frequently as I am the most un-athletic person ever). Who pulls something like that at our age? At this point, I have no desire to keep trying to smooth things over with Ashley. She can come to me when she&amp;#039;s ready. And since we&amp;#039;re in the eighth grade, I hope karma bites her in the ass in the form of Luke breaking her heart. Okay no, that&amp;#039;s really mean, I don&amp;#039;t really want that.  Maybe just a little\u2026 "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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