Today, being the day before the Clay concert - excuse me, the Clay AND Kelly concert - it was time to shop for the perfect outfit to wear. As any female knows, next to having good seats, this is the most important factor when going to a concert. You never know whom you might meet. For me, tomorrow night could be a night of meeting fates.

Originally, I was supposed to attend the concert with Alyssa. Now she refuses to go. She's still wracked with guilt over the whole nearly killing Clay with coffee incident in LA. Maya was my stand-by. She acted like dragging her along was a big nuisance, but underneath her act I heard a tone of excitement.

Maya and I took to the mall to find the perfect outfits to wear to tomorrow night's show. We circled the mall for an hour before we found the most perfect store. Prom Dresses Inc. Prom dresses! They'd be perfect! We'd be elegant. We'd be beautiful. We'd be magnificent. We'd be Clay magnets. I pulled the most luxurious purple velour low-cut dress out of the rack. I fell in love. So did Maya. Puddle of drool formed at our feet. It was a perfect size for both of us. Unfortunately it was the last dress of its size. I saw the glint of want in her eyes and I knew we'd have to fight to the death for it. And I was prepared to do so. As I doubled up my fists for the fight of my life, Maya said she heard that Clay was allergic to the dress's material and it was probably best that I didn't buy it. She was cunning. She was devious. She was right. What if I hugged him? What if I jumped on him in a feverish rage? I could hospitalize him! My goodness. I couldn't do that to my darling Clayton. I handed over the dress to Maya. She ran off and paid for it, cackling all the way.

I continued searching through the racks of dresses. I finally found a bright pink one. It was big and pouffy, pink with giant shoulder pads. Maya said it was hideous and that I would never fit in her car wearing it. Yeah, right. She probably just wanted it all to herself. As I was trying it on, the saleslady insisted that the dress was put on the wrong rack. It was meant for the trash, not to be sold as a prom dress. Whatever. Maya probably paid her to say that so she could buy the dress for herself. No way, Jose! The dress was mine! All mine for $2.75 plus tax!