Awkward Exes Serving Awkward Exes

Being a server sometimes means you’re gonna have to serve tables that know either too little or too much about you. In my case, I have on occasion had to wait on my ex-boyfriends’ exes. Not just exes, but the women who had broken my ex-boyfriends’ hearts. Which would make them the “big love” my boyfriends had lost at some point not too long after. And these women always seem to know who I am.

I’m starting to confuse myself, and probably you, so let me throw some examples out there.

Years ago, after I recently broke up with my first boyfriend, Cameron, I had to wait on his high school sweetheart, someone Cameron had a hard time letting go of after they had ended their relationship. Needless to say, it was someone he had loved hard for and I knew this while dating him. They had also kept in touch during my relationship with Cameron, always making me wonder if he was ever over her. It didn’t really matter anyway, considering Cameron and I didn’t work out. But what was awkward was that I knew certain private and personal things about her and she definitely knew certain private and personal things about me.

So when I announced my name (which is incredibly unique) and that I’d be taking care of her, I knew the smile on her face was purely superficial and nervous. This, in turn, made me uncomfortable, so for the duration of her dining out, everything was tense.

Irony, I think. Why is it that the ex-love of my recent ex-boyfriend somehow ends up sitting in my section when I know they are entirely unaware of my existence at The Restaurant? Especially when we had never met before?

But it doesn’t get anymore awkward than having the ex-WIFE sitting at your table. THE ex-wife your ex-boyfriend talked to you about for hours, telling you things she probably wouldn’t want you to know. And, as far as you know, she might know things about you that you wouldn’t want HER to know. And not only is it an ex-wife, but a recent one at that. Tricky, tricky…

I had never met her before, but had heard plenty. I also knew she was aware of my existence, but it was hard to say if she could recognize me by looks alone. I knew she would know my name, though. So, as I watched her tiny figure gracefully sit, looking with those extremely arched eyebrows, puffed out cheekbones and lips, I had to consciously restrain myself from going in multiple directions like a chicken with its head chopped off. For a split second, I felt guilty. Maybe it was because I had felt like a mistress when dating this man. Being hidden from his personal life always made me feel like I was in an affair and that if the wife found out, I would be in huge trouble. But it was his EX-wife. And he was now my ex-boyfriend (or more like a whim/fling/situation #2…refer back to situation #1 for clarification). “Boyfriend” doesn’t seem to fit this particular guy anyhow.

Still doesn’t change the fact that it was nerve-wracking. I swiftly passed by the table without greeting the ex and her date, and grabbed Ethel, another server, saying, “I can’t take this table. It’s HIS ex.” But really, I could have; however,considering it was dead in the restaurant, I knew Ethel could take it off my hands. I just didn’t feel like testing out my acting skills at that particular moment. I was just happy she didn’t walk in with her daughter. I could just feel the bile rise up my throat if that had happened. He did such a good job at hiding me from his daughter, how ironic would it have been if I got to meet her through his ex. Not that I wanted to be hidden, but he felt it best for his daughter not to know about me. Again, the Mistress title being labeled onto me. And again, I want to vomit. If only I was a Super Ex-Girlfriend, I wouldn’t feel so pathetic…Yes...this is more like it.

There was always another reason to vomit, and it was because I knew he had really loved his ex-wife. She was his “big love” just like Cameron’s high school sweetheart was his “big love.” And both ended up in my section. Years apart, but in two separate states, and yet still the same irony. Still the same awkwardness. Because, I too, was an ex. And I hate serving exes.

One Year Down, More to Go…

I’m burning a Pumpkin Spice candle right now in honor of fall coming. So it’s been a full year since I’ve moved out to California and I’ve had some good experiences and bad. I feel like I’ve lived a whole different life from the start of the year to the end.

For the first part of the year, I had the Terminator and the group of friends that came along with him. Since he and I parted in the summer, that whole life disappeared, along with the friends I thought I was growing close to. And so is life.

For the last few months of the year, I have had numerous theater auditions. One of them I screwed up massively and wanted to punch myself in the face for that. The others, I received amazingly positive and encouraging reactions from the panels of auditors, but still managed to not get booked. And so is life, again. I’ll be covering more of this in a separate blog.

However, the good parts occurred near the end of the year when I finally made some close girlfriends. This was something I’d been wanting all year long, and knowing me, I’m a very impatient person. I always want it now, now, NOW! I’ve had a few exciting I'm the one on the far right.adventures with my girlies and a few not so pleasant ones. Let’s just say I’m really not a fan of clubs where random horny guys grab, pull, and push you everywhere you REALLY don’t want to go. If you don’t know my name, you can’t touch me. Nuff said.

Actually, not nuff said. So I did a stupid thing and went on a date with a guy I met in Santa Monica at a bar who couldn’t control his hands. Because I’m an idiot and always give people the benefit of the doubt, I think to myself, well a date won’t hurt. I was also being an idiot thinking I can control any situation I put myself into. WRONG! Of course I’d been warned about these situations before, but I’m 25. I think I’m invincible, not gonna lie. So this date turns into me being far too drunk, half passed out on the couch, then being lifted onto someone’s (oh yeah, Mr. Santa Monica’s) bed. The nasty occurs with me in that drunken stupor thinking it was a dream, and BAM! after it was over, my instincts kick in. You’re a little late, Instincts, way to be. I get the hell out of there, drunkenly stumbling down the stairs, cutting up the back of my heel on the way down, driving when I REALLY shouldn’t have been, and crying hysterically on the phone to my best friend Anthony. I made it safely home. But in the most stupid and dangerous way. So, needless to say, that’s not gonna happen again…but I’ve been wrong before.

Just gotta throw this in here: people make me sick. It’s called evolution! Let’s evolve into people bettering humanity, not fucking it over. And……nobody listens. Oh well, worth a shot.

My defense system results in me getting very angry. After my one night experience, days passed with me fuming. All I wanted to do was punch things. Guys blatantly staring at me at work, PUNCH! Older men making flirtatious jokes at me, PUNCH! My manager making a sexual comment, PUNCH! My buried memories of other guys making me feel threatened, AIR PUNCH PUNCH! And so is life…

But it shouldn’t be. And yet, nothing will ever change.

IN OTHER NEWS:

I made peace with my infamous ex, Chris Cameron, who was basically my first everything…well, almost.

Also met the producer and manager for Funny Man, Mr. Georgia (names have been removed for privacy reasons). Gonna be flying home this weekend on their private jet to see my parents. Some of you probably think I’m stupid for doing this, but it’s a major whim! And this blog is called Whimming Lessons after all. I’ll cover more on this later after this weekend. We’ll see if I was stupid or not.

Ice

So I just drove forty-five minutes from Burbank to my house and it was a little past midnight. As I entered Simi Valley’s dark and quieter streets, I felt safe and, for once, felt as though home was nearby. I had, forty-five minutes earlier, just turned my back on a recent ex-boyfriend/friend/the Terminator. We hadn’t really been together for a month and a half now since our last “break up” discussion, but things between us were never solidified. At least, not what I understood of it. However, in recent weeks, we had been speaking and randomly seeing each other at convenient intervals. Needless to say, I had to make things clearer, for myself, in any case. I wasn’t going to endure another on and off relationship where the guy could never honestly love me back or truly want to be with me. Which is fine, in retrospect, because this is what happens to people. But I, personally, don’t think I have it in me to keep holding on to something so uncertain, confusing, and slippery.

I have attempted to think like a guy and enjoy the moments of uncertainty run by pure animalistic instinct. I lasted about three days of not letting my emotions get to me, and then it failed once I shared my stories with close and not-so-close friends. No matter the differences between each friends’ status, the answer was the same. “You deserve someone who WANTS to be with you.”

So, as reality clicked in on punctual time, it struck me that I was allowing myself to fall into another disastrous loop trap with an ex. This time I put my foot down, which was really hard to do, and drove away from Burbank to home, with no tears, but definitely a deep frown creasing my brow.

I knew, as I drove down the blackened highways of Southern California, that this time I was on my own. My last break up was comforted and surrounded by loyal and loving friends who did everything in their power to help me survive. Those friends still exist, but are far away and are no longer available. My parents are no longer available because, they too, are far away. This time, I’m in it alone. Just me and my cat. But really, just me.

Fortunately, in this particular case, I have become much more durable. It only frightens me a little that I have been able to cut off direct connection to deep feelings, that I have become colder inside, and that that coldness has given me the strength and confidence to move on.

What can a person do? When they have no close friends? When they have no loved ones nearby? When she must live with the fact that the man she was with didn’t want her anymore? What does a person do in order to survive the isolation? She becomes like ice, freezes over until someone decides to make her warm with the sun again.

What do people do at four in the morning?

I’m up. Not just up, but wide awake. You would think that after a long, exhausting night at work I would have fallen asleep immediately. Instead, I’m tossing and turning, blowing my drippy nose, coughing, going to the bathroom, drinking some water, pushing my annoying cat out of the way of my face, then finally deciding to take a sleeping pill at around 4am.

After that, I went to the kitchen and got a Klondike bar, cookies and cream, and scarfed it down. Though I couldn’t taste it because I’m sick, so that didn’t really satisfy my craving.

Then, while I wait for the sleeping pill to kick in, I started surfing the web, but…there was nothing really interesting to surf through. So, here I am again, falling back on my blog to write another randomly, self-spilling, thoughtless rant that makes this more like a public diary for the whole world to see.

Not that there are that many people reading this particular blog. I know of only a few…

But seriously, I used to be a great sleeper, but now I find that my brain won’t stop spinning in crazy circles about solving THIS, or fixing THAT. And it won’t let me rest one bit.

So I’m gonna spill all the annoying thoughts on here so that maybe writing about it would help me vent out my brain so I can sleep, for the love of GRAPES! Yes, that is a very irritated and heated sentence. I would also like to point out that I’m writing this without my contacts so I’m relying solely on my fingers to not mess up while typing. Fingers lead the way cause I’m blind as a bat!

Hold on to yourself because I am going to write the next paragraph as one big run-on, thought flowing sentence so you can get an idea of how my brain would not SHUT UP! So here we go…

my cat is so cute all snuggly i’m so glad i brought him with me to california but i’d rather him not be in my face all the time when i’m trying to sleep i hate it when he climbs on the pillows while i’m sleeping it makes me think he’s gonna pee on them right on my face man i feel miserable man i hate being sick if my nose drips one more time i’m just gonna let it drip it’ll have to deal with it ugh i hate that feeling do i really have to blow my nose AGAIN yep okay so back to thinking about stuff that can help me fall asleep why hasn’t he called why was he so mean why do i feel this way did i do the right thing nope of course i didn’t i always screw everything up i can never do the right thing i always feel like i cant do the right thing with him i’ve apologized i think more times all together in my life to him than i have to anyone i think could be exaggerating but whatever that’s what it feels like i cant do anything right with him always making mistakes just like i treated chris oh no that’s how i treated chris made him feel like he never did anything right he always felt like he couldn’t do anything right with me which makes it obvious that we weren’t meant to be together but still i feel like i should write him a letter apologize i must be on an apologizing streak no that’s a bad idea let it stay in the past no need to touch it but wouldn’t that be okay wouldn’t it to just say i’m sorry to amend things to make things better yes and no and definitely not right now cause i’m being impulsive which i always am but when i’m impulsive with letters bad things tend to always happen i hate thinking about my ex boy am i lame could i be any lamer sleep sleep cat get off my fucking pillow dammit i hope i’m better tomorrow i wonder if he will call tomorrow i wish i had my best friend i wish i didn’t say anything how did he replace chris i hate saying i love you bad things always happens best to wait until its safe best to not do it thought that would be silly because then i would be a pathetic loser who couldn’t fall in love lame oh well and my period’s started so you would think i could think rationally nope guess not confused as always think i’m gonna close everything off now but still can’t sleep i feel nauseous damn period and stupid tampon i wonder if i’ve got toxic shock syndrome should i ever write chris an apology letter simple i’ve got it all worked out but why so i can be at peace with that but i can be by just letting it go two different states a new beginning a fresh start i can replace everyone and never have to look back again can i do that to him that text was so mean not like him that’s what i do to guys piss them off i really tried hard to focus on what i was saying i’m stupid though go figure leave it to me to say the wrong things i excel at that maybe he meant it as something else maybe he didn’t mean it to be mean always fucking things up over a text go figure i regret everything i shouldn’t have slept with my best friend i shouldn’t have let us get close like that i knew better but as always i think i’m above the norm outside the usual think i can survive it in the end i’m still human that keeps perfecting myself i must perfect myself must make things better with all people except for the ex should let that disappear under all the dust no need to uncover it wouldn’t matter apology wouldn’t matter his reaction would probably piss me off again again and remind me of things i shouldn’t remember holy shit its 4am fuck!

Okay, so there you have. If you were able to read through that entire jumble of pure unadulterated honesty, the window to my brain, then I applaud you. I’m finally feeling the sleeping pill kicking in…and it does feel somewhat better now that I’ve got most of that stuff off my brain. Aw man it’s 530am. You gotta be kidding me!

Crazy dream #3: Werewolves, aliens, and ex-boyfriends…oh, and did I mention teeth falling out! Ah!

Okay, I’m gonna have to say this particular dream gave me the cold sweats. As much as I love exciting dreams involving aliens and werewolves, this one made me more vulnerable that I’m normally used to. Whatever happened to my machine gun I’d always carried with me? It seems in my old age I’ve become more vulnerable in my dreams which sucks!

So I had another random dream about being attacked by aliens (from James Cameron’s Aliens), but honestly, as I write this, I can’t seem to recall the details. All I know is that I was running from them and then found myself in some neighborhood in California. I was with my ex-boyfriend, in his car watching the sunset on this mountain top nearby a high school my dad worked at, and I was vaguely aware of a practicing marching band as well. It was a peaceful moment, but as I lay in his arms listening to him talk, I felt an impending doom approaching. I had to get out somehow. There was somewhere I needed to be. But I didn’t know where.

I rushed out of the car and went inside the high school which evolved into a large dentist’s office. I looked into the mirror and smiled. My teeth felt funny, so I pushed against the front with my tongue, and BAM! A massive chip came off my tooth! My eyes widened in horror and felt with my tongue again, and BAM! Both front teeth tore out, detaching from the permanent retainer I had in. I caught them both with my hands, looked away from the mirror in disgust, and stared in horror at the broken teeth laying in my palms.

I couldn’t believe it! I worked so hard on straightening these teeth, and then they just randomly fell out!

Nonetheless, I felt I was on a mission. I pocketed the teeth, ran outside, my ex was waiting for me in concern, wondering where I’d gone. He started to follow me as I ran towards the west (or east, but it was one of those). But I ran too fast for him and he disappeared from my dream.

I was alone now, but I knew I’d eventually run into my dad. I was looking for him. There was a particular dirt path, surrounded by desert, that I was journeying on. I somehow met up with my old best friend Amy Baker and my mom. We were all following the same path. I was told by some others that I should beware of the wolf people in the next town I’ll be passing.

As soon as I got there, the wolf people came out to hunt. Then it was a full out fight. I somehow ended up with a sword…my only weapon to defend myself. Pretty lame against werewolves, if you ask me.

These things freak me out.
These things freak me out.

So here we were, running around like crazy people trying to fight off the strange pirate looking wolf people. Amy and my mom disappeared from the scene. There was a little girl I found and was compelled to pick her up and make a run for it. But the lead wolfman wouldn’t let me go. I used my negotiating skills on him (which turned out to be flirting) and suddenly he wanted to do me. I thought to myself, having sex with a dogman isn’t what I would call fun. He started to mount me, but before he could do his thing, I kicked him off, grabbed the girl and got the hell out of there.

I continued down the path, the little girl disappearing as well, and I was alone again. All I knew was that I needed to meet up with my dad at the train station. After miles of walking and fearing of being found by the wolves, I finally found my dad. By now, we were in the middle of a desert in Arizona, waiting by the train tracks. We were somehow going to jump onto the train and hide in one of the box cars to continue the rest of the 600 miles. The 600 miles were very specific, but I have no idea why. And there was one more wolf lair we’d have to pass by. It was the most dangerous of them all. They were the real vicious wolves that if they found “food” (humans) nearby, they would attack and eat them. Much different from the wolves I had fought earlier.

This worried me because we had to cover our scent and be very quiet in order to not alert the wolves. And, for some reason the 600 miles to the mysterious destination was very depressing to me. I felt I’d already gone so far. But I had 600 more miles to go. Ugh!

The dream ended with the train passing by, and me nearly missing it. My dad disappeared from the scene as well. I didn’t even get to see what the mysterious destination was. Dreams are lame like that.