Mystery solved. But the explanation might actually be stranger than the incident itself. So let’s back up…

Once, I had a BFF. This BFF and I were inseparable for awhile. Then, I introduced her to my freshly-Ex-Boyfriend (who had moved out of town for a couple months, and had just moved back.) This boyfriend basically made my life hell. He is THE ex-boyfriend. The Mother of All Ex-Boyfriends. I wrote an entire record about him.   Suffice to say, BFFs shouldn’t start fucking him.

But She did.

She knew all the stories.  She knew all the horror.  But the night I introduced them, I went home with my new boyfriend (who became Hyphenated Husband) and she, apparently, went home with my Ex.

And then they kept seeing each other. And she hid it from me for a month. She became secretive, like an alcoholic.   I’d call to ask her to hang out, and she’d say she was with family.  In reality, she was busy getting a poke from my Ex-Douchebag.

I got a text from her one day out of the clear blue sky announcing that they were dating, in love, and “couldn’t hide it” from me anymore.  Of course, I lost my mind a little; partly because I couldn’t believe how well she’d deceived me, and partly because I knew he was just using her to get back at me.

The love birds dated for another WEEK before breaking up and hating each other.  As you can see, their relationship was so worthy of stabbing me squarely in the back.  I hated her so much.  But somehow, months later, I forgave her. Everyone told me not to, but I’m a chump.  We were like sisters, and since I don’t have a sister, losing a surrogate sister hurt me pretty badly. I was with John then, and Ex-Douchebag didn’t matter anyway. So I brought her back into my life, and she stayed there for another 2 years.

She was the only person who cared about me through my first pregnancy. While all my other Good-Time-Friends dropped me like a hot, pregnant potato, she stuck around – mainly, because she was 30 and wanted a baby and a husband of her own so badly she could practically taste it.  It’s all she talked about. She lived vicariously through me, and I was okay with that because she was there for me.

The Christmas after Jonas was born, she finally got her wish.  Her much-younger boyfriend proposed, and I was thrilled for her.  Jumping out of my skin, thrilled for her.  But then things got a little insane.  She told me she was taking the $30,000 her parents had just given her to buy a house, and basically using it as a down payment on a $100,000 wedding.  I should explain that this girl and her young fiancé had NO money, lived in a dumpy shoe box where the water was broken much of the time, and could barely house their cat, let alone a marriage.  She fixated on buying a $5,000 dress, and being her only friend who had actually been through a wedding, I decided to try to talk some sense into her.

Oh.  The Dress.   The Dress will go down in history as a category 5 hurricane, for it inflicted more damage on more people than any other piece of fabric ever sewn.  While her young friends told her “Yes, get the dress! It’s your wedding! You’ll remember this day forever!” – I was saying “Dude, you will only wear this once, please rethink this, you cannot live in this dress.  You will literally be the old lady who lived in her dress!”

Well, she told me I was raining on her parade, and that I was just “jealous” of her because my shotgun wedding sucked, etc, etc, etc.  I tried to explain that I was just afraid for her; afraid she was putting her new family into a mountain of debt by getting wrapped up in this dress she couldn’t afford.  I may also have brought up her ridiculous-to-me adult Hello Kitty obsession, as an example to her of how she might be spending money a bit irresponsibly. It was all very ugly.  She said things.  I said things.  My husband said things. Her fiancé said things.  And the BFF-ship ended on a sour, sour note.   That was 3 years ago this Christmas.

I didn’t talk to her again for another year when she accidentally copied me on an email (meaning to select a different “Gina.”) We had some more words, and both told each other to fuck off.   That was 2 years ago this month.

So today, I get a Facebook message from her. I almost threw up on my shirt. She wants me to call her.  No way, Jose. I’m not calling her. So I tell her to email me if she’s got something so important to say, and here is what she writes:

Hi Gina,

Please don’t get mad at me for writing you, as I know it’s a little weird. Occasionally I read your blog to see what’s going on with you, regardless of what you think of me, I still care about you and wish you well, regardless of the past.

So, basically, you don’t have a stalker. That necklace you got in the mail was ordered by me off ebay, and for some reason it was sent to your work address. Do you remember like, 4 years ago or something, you ordered something for John and we used my ebay account? Yeah, well, Paypal messed up and the necklace was sent to you. I can show you the receipt that I paid for it, and for some reason Paypal used that address. I think it’s because [husband] and I are getting a divorce, and I had to switch accounts and move everything around, and ugh, what a mess.

Anyway, it was meant as a gift for someone, and I don’t know what to do from here. I know it’s weird, like some sort of Buffy/Angel crossover event.

I’m sorry if this bothers or upsets you. I don’t want any hard feelings or anything. I’m really going through a lot right now. If you want to keep the necklace that’s fine. I just don’t want any harsh words right now. I’m kind of a mess.

Hope you are well, Gina.

The craziest part of this whole thing is that she was the very first person I thought of when HH called me to tell me about the necklace arriving. When he said it was by Tarina Tarantino, I replied, “Oh, she makes that Hello Kitty shit.” HH asked me how I knew that and I said “Don’t you remember? [BFF] was obsessed with her?” I even wrote a whole song about her called “Goodbye Kitty” after our falling out.  It went something like this –

Can’t look away
She’s such a waste
Keeps gettin’ high to keep from feeling low

She’s got her clothes
Her pantyhose
I wanna love her but Goodbye Kitty

I never used to be a breeder
was a party girl and a meet & greeter
but I’d never trade this for that.

oh what a mess
her designer dress
silver spoons couldn’t dig her out of this

so comical
so hypocritical
you try to love her but Goodbye Kitty

She always was a cyber cheater
Ex-Boyfriend stealer
I can’t compete her
but I do thank Goodness for that

so goooooodbyyyeee.

You were so entertaining
Je’taime mais au revoir chatton

So there it is. The mystery is solved. No stalker. Just an Ex-BFF who hangs around my blog. I’m not sure that’s any better.