My ex-husband is still one of my best friends. He's intelligent, witty, good-looking and a great artist. I knew he was bisexual when we met and dated, it was no big deal because so am I. That's not the reason we got divorced, although I know some people think it is. We just grew apart, as happens when people get married too young.

Our marriage occurred in August of 2000 - the wedding was one headache after another. At first we wanted a wedding, but then The Dad offered us $500 to elope. So we decided to go to a courthouse. Then, out of nowhere, I decided I wanted a "real" wedding again. Because my ex-husband didn't care one way or the other, he was okay with that.

We then proceeded to throw a wedding together in under three months. See, I was still in college, and I wanted to get married before my last semester started, because I didn't want to deal with both things at once. It was actually a very pretty wedding, and relatively cheap.

It was cheap because we were doing things at the last minute. That meant we had to work around other peoples' schedules. Because of this, we were offered discounts for doing things like using white roses instead of lilies, or buying both cakes at the same place.

We celebrated when we were able to schedule the wedding on the day of our choice, Saturday, August 12th, for a reasonable price at a pretty venue. Everything was going great! And we got the wedding rings engraved with the date in preparation of The Big Day.

Then we got the voicemail.

The one that said our wedding for Friday the 11th was confirmed. I called them back immediately.

I said, "I thought it was set for Saturday the 12th." They informed me that, no, it was Friday. I looked at our receipts and discovered to my horror that the date was, indeed, Friday the 11th.

What followed was a frantic rush of phone calls to different florists, bakers and invitation printers to change the date of everything to Friday. Thankfully, everything was able to be fixed.

Except our wedding rings. Those were already engraved...with the wrong date.

My ex-husband laughed it off and said we'd have a great story to tell people one day. I, on the other hand, was mortified and refused to come out of the bathroom where our new cat was already hiding. If she hadn't already staked out the area behind the toilet, I probably would have been under there, too.

Everything else went according to plan on the new date, at the new time, with minimal confusion by our families. I was 24 hours from breathing a sigh of relief and calling it done.

And then I slammed my future husband's hand in the car door at the rehearsal dinner.

After that, it was like someone had knocked over the first domino.

Ex-husband forgot to get a haircut.

The Dad broke a tooth, and refused to get it fixed, because his mustache covered his mouth.

The brand new cat scratched my chest and my dress was the off-the-shoulder style.

My dress was too long and I almost tripped on the way down the aisle.

According to the bridesmaids, there were bees (we were married outside).

The grand finale, however, was at the reception, where the bartender bumped the table with all the cake plates on it, creating a vast sea of shattered glass around our feet.

It was glorious.

Once everyone was gone, we curled up in the bridal suite, and swore that we wouldn't get divorced. Neither one of us could stand doing this all over again.

We got divorced five years after our wedding. We've now been divorced 6 years. He and I have been in each others' lives more than 13 years. We're still close enough that we think of each other as family.

And yet, to this day, he has never let me forget that damn car door.