“Um, no. Charlize Theron. In case you forgot during our little hiatus, I still like vaginas.”

“I forget sometimes.”

“So wait, he proposed?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you say?”

“Um, I said yes.”

Hold the phone, people.

“You’re getting married?”

“I’m getting married,” she said, with an adorable little nod.

And despite the fact that my life was weird and nothing like the life I had planned, I was ecstatic for her. Sad that I had been so out-of-touch that I hadn’t noticed how serious she and Tiger Beat had gotten, but ecstatic.

“Chelsea, that’s great!” I said, reaching across the counter to give her another tight hug.

“I’m really, really excited.”

“Of course you are! You’re marrying a guy who can do your makeup for the wedding,” I joked, pouring her another glass of wine in celebration.

“You’re turning into her.”

“Who?”

“Ashley.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

For some reason, I considered it quite the compliment, “Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice the ring.”

“Where is it?”

She holds up her hand, and I furrow my brow in confusion.