MussoLOLen is Always Right! |

I’m really not sure what compelled me to walk up to my ex when I spotted him at the area where I usually wait for my next class. Maybe it’s because I knew that a confrontation was inevitable (we go to the same school). Maybe it’s because my ex angst is getting old and I’m tired of being angry at him. Maybe it’s because it’s almost Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth.

Whatever my reasons were, I tapped on his shoulder and asked for a light. He looked startled to see me standing there, using his lighter while making small talk as though he were an old college classmate instead of the person I loved for two and a half years and an asswipe I loathed for a year up until today.

Of course, my hands were shaking the entire time.

I always imagined that our first conversation after our falling out wouldn’t be so much a conversation as me ripping his throat open with my trimmed fingernails. I had a little speech written in my head that I would rehearse when I had nothing better to occupy my mind with. I imagined that he would walk away before I could even utter a word, or that I’d burst into tears in the middle of talking and I wouldn’t be able to stop because I’d be too overwhelmed with anger, or sadness, or both. But life never works out the way you imagine it would.

The whole conversation went amazingly well. No dramatic scenes, no angry outbursts, nothing of the sort. My anger disappeared like curlicues of cigarette smoke in the wind. As we discussed what we’ve been up to and what went wrong in our relationship, it occurred to me that none of this felt particularly strange. True, making peace with my ex wasn’t exactly at the top of today’s To-Do List (and I must admit I’m still slightly in shock because I always thought I’d hate him forever). But once the moment was there, it was all routine and old habits. Switching into my old speech patterns was almost automatic, and talking to him was a very comfortable feeling that I’ve missed. He is one of those few people who can make every conversation sound like something out of a blockbuster epic trilogy.

Me: I thought you hated me.
Him: How could I hate you for being human?
Me: We lived like demi-gods back then.
Him: I still think I’m a demi-god.
Me: I’ve long accepted the fact that I’m human. And I’m perfectly fine with it.

And before I left for class:

Him: You have one up on me.
Me: Really? What’s that?
Him: You have an unending capacity to feel.

I realized something else too. In life, you will encounter many people. Some are only around for a fun interlude; you’ll barely notice when they come and go. Some of them are worth fighting tooth and nail to keep. Some of them do an unforgivable thing, or a series of unforgivable things, that may or may not scar you for the rest of your life. Most of those people are not worth talking to ever again, but there are some who deserve a second chance. Thou shalt not forget the people who helped shape who you are.

Time can only tell if we’ll be real friends or if we’ll only acknowledge the other’s existence with a wave or a nod. Whatever happens from this point onwards doesn’t really matter much. The important thing is that I can finally put the last three years of my life back in its rightful resting place, without having to worry about revenants when the karmic cycle of life makes random things random happenly.

I’m no stranger to strange coincidences but I got curveballed by one of the strangest coincidences early this week. While I was on my way out the office for a cigarette break Monday morning, Kristel ran into me with arms wide flailing.

“Lauren! Your Asshole Ex’s current girlfriend is right outside the office!”

I was still reeling from the what-the-fuckness of her statement when I found myself getting ushered out the door to greet the Current Girlfriend. Since I didn’t have enough time to prepare myself, I think I walked out with a smile that was a lot wider than I’d like. Somehow, we (the Current Girlfriend, the Ex-Girlfriend, and Kristel, who technically is also the Current Girlfriend’s Ex-Girlfriend – but that’s a twisted story for another time) ended up having a cigarette break together. In a tone that I hope didn’t sound like I was in any way threatened, ruffled, or shocked that she of all people was waiting outside the office door, I asked the Current Girlfriend what she was doing here. The Current Girlfriend then told me that she a) graduated this month, b) needs a job ASAP, c) is applying for a writing position at our company.

Gee, what are the chances of that?

A few hours later, my Project Manager walked into my cubicle and asked me to give a character reference for the Current Girlfriend, seeing as we graduated from the same university. “You can’t be serious!” I sputtered. Unfortunately, he was. See, his asking me to give a character reference for an applicant means that the applicant is a candidate for our team. In the cubicle to my right, I heard Kristel laughing hysterically.

Now, any other Ex-Girlfriend who were in my position would have automatically slandered the Current Girlfriend’s character. But me, I’m nice and I’m fair. So I give her a glowing, non-bullshit recommendation because her horrible taste in men doesn’t change the fact that she’s still a good writer and a friend.

The next day, my Project Manager informed me that the Current Girlfriend is to be our new teammate.

The average Ex-Girlfriend would have defenestrated herself from the fifth floor upon finding out that she’ll be working in the same team with the current girl of a former love. I’m no average Ex-Girlfriend though. I really am cool with the Current Girlfriend and I have absolutely no issues with her. I just want to kill her boyfriend, that’s all.

(Well okay, that and I find it kind of creepy that she has now acquired his mannerisms and speech patterns. It’s like watching a female version of the ex, minus the condescension and the arrogance. Funny how the dead come back to life in perverse reincarnations.)

The thing is, my break-up with the Asshole Ex was quite amicable. We managed to stay really good friends for several weeks and I do feel a bit sorry that our friendship has been replaced by this unsnuffable hatred I have for him. You see, he was ten times nicer to me when we were friends than he ever was while he was my boyfriend. Unfortunately, assholes will always be assholes, and he did a very asshole thing that made me realize two things:

a) my ex is full of shit
b) up until the moment I broke up with him, I spent the last two and a half years of my life allowing him to manipulate me and take over my life

Believe it or not, I’m a very forgiving person. I’m told that I can be frightening when I’m angry, but it doesn’t take me long to get over my anger and forgive the bastard who pissed me off. Some people, unfortunately, do things that I simply can’t forgive. These people are usually sent off to what I call the Realm of Indifference, a place in my selective memory where they’re never given a second thought, except for when I tell stories about the WTF things they did to me. The Asshole Ex, however, is an entirely different case. It’s been a year since I dumped everything he ever gave me in front of his house (with his posse watching the drama unfold because I interrupted their group jerk-off session when I called him to say that I was coming over NOW and you better come out and get your fucking stuff). Until today, the mere mention of his name is enough to make my blood boil.

I hate that I care enough about him to hate him this much.

What’s going to make this whole work situation very awkward for me is this. Assuming that my ex is still the same person, it’s likely that he will stay within the area to wait for the Current Girlfriend to get out from work. I haven’t seen nor spoken to him since the drama outside his house, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I run into him unexpectedly. So far, my options are to:

a) get creative with my shoelaces
b) hurl a torrent of verbal abuse at him
c) punch him with my killer deadly girly punch
d) push him into the swimming pool and watch him flail because he can’t swim

I have a feeling that the only way my ex can move on to the Realm of Indifference is if I ever tell him to his face that I hate his fucking guts and that while I don’t regret our relationship, I do regret not breaking up with him sooner. Unfortunately, my ex is an asshole and I bet if I tried to sit him down and talk to him about this, he’d probably walk away mid-sentence. Or raise an eyebrow in the middle of my speech and ask me if I’m done yet. If he even chooses to see me. My ex is big on cutting ties with his past and pretending that his previous girlfriends never existed. Too bad for him that this particular ex-girlfriend is making noise on the intarwebz and will be working with his girlfriend soon.

Chances are, if I do ever get around to talking to him, I’ll just freeze up the way I always do in confrontations and never get to say a fucking word. Then he’ll walk away laughing and tell his friends that his ex-girlfriend is a total psycho. Not that they don’t already think that.

My life sucks.

For a more coherent account on the last day of the Manila Book Fair, check out my post on the Read or Die blog.

What with work, clothed photoshoots, fattening up at Something Fishy, and making music with Kristel, today was the only day I could devote to helping out Read or Die at the Manila International Book Fair. And by “helping out” I mean standing at the WikiPilipinas booth in a WikiP shirt, being overall useless since they seemed to have all the manpower they need. I had originally signed up to blog for the Read or Die website, but I couldn’t even do that using the awesome new iMacs cos the WikiP folks wouldn’t let me go to any other site but WikiPilipinas and Filipiniana.Net. Oh wells. So me being me, I sneaked off to wander around the book fair even though I already have a large stack of unread books in my room, no time to read them, and no money to buy new ones.

And that was when I encountered the Church of Scientology.

Aliens! Zombies! Vampires! Dinosaurs! Xenu!

Now, anyone who knows me well should know that I’m not…particularly religious. I already have enough trouble believing that a guy who got nailed to a tree came back to life to save us from “original sin”. What more with the notion that all our problems are caused by the spirits of aliens stuck to our bodies. But I was bored and my friends were busy, so what the hell. Let’s take the free stress test! And let’s have someone from the Church of Scientology capture the moment in binary form because no one will believe me if I tell them about this unless I have picture proof!

Dun dun duuuuun

Any emotionally unstable 21-year old would be the perfect sucker for the Church of Scientology. Especially if the emotionally unstable 21-year old constantly worries about things that she shouldn’t really worry about. Like her career or lack thereof. Her dating life or lack thereof. The purpose of life. The meaning of life. The fact that she’s starting to resemble a dumpling with every passing day. The fact that she wishes she were a girl whose biggest life crisis is not owning the latest Manolo Blahnik pumps instead of a girl who worries about not being worried about not owning the latest Manolo Blahnik pumps. A complex creature such as myself should have stress levels waaaaaay off the charts.

The arrow barely moved a millimeter when I touched the metal rods of the E-meter.

Is this the face of a stressed-out chick?

“Think of something stressful,” the guy suggested helpfully. “What’s stressing you out at the moment?”

I paused. “Well, there’s this guy. Or was. He stresses me out.” I kept my eyes on the meter and thought of every single stupid emo moment I’ve had ever since I met him. It’s ironic that the most “normal” guy who’s ever shown a flicker of interest in me should be the one to cause the worst emotional roller coaster ride I’ve ever been on, dating-wise. But should that really surprise me? “Expect the unexpected” is the underlying theme of my life.

The arrow moved a second too late, and not by much. I was unimpressed. And so was the Scientologist because he suggested that I think of something else that’s been stressing me out.

“Work,” I replied immediately. “But then you know–who doesn’t get stressed over their jobs?”

AHA! STRESS!!!!

Finally, the arrow jerked to life as if possessed by the spirits of otherworldly creatures . “Ahhh,” the guy said. “You’re stressed.” Um, no shit Sherlock.

The Scientologist then began to give me his spiel on dianetics and how Scientology can help me get rid of stress forever and ever and ever. I was too busy being disappointed to listen. Look at me – I’m so lost and clueless as to what to do with my life and the things that stress me out! Conning me into joining a religious group that believes in aliens should take absolutely no effort, if it means never having to feel negative emotions for the rest of my life. Then again, perhaps I’m not as lost and clueless as I think I am. Getting depressed, angry, confused, and feeling downright sucky is an inescapable part of being alive. While being despondent is no fun, I’d like to think that I grow up a little bit every time I emerge out of a spell. I haven’t reached that rock-bottom point where I’ll believe in anything to achieve some measure of happiness, sanity, or contentment – and I won’t allow that to happen. At the very least, I know I can handle all the crap life throws at me without dropping my responsibilities, taking out my anger on other people, and inflicting harm on myself. The worst I ever do is brainfart on whoever’s online. Which is probably why I haven’t seen half of my friends list on YM in a while.

The rest of the book fair went pretty smoothly, and you can read about it on the post I made in the Read or Die blog and look at the photos in my Picasa because my brain is too dead to remember anything else. Oh oh, except for the guys who showed up at the book fair as Star Wars characters! There was a Jedi knight, a Sith lord, Queen Amidala, and a bunch of Storm Troopers. OMG. I thrust my camera into the hands of whoever friend was nearby and poked the costumed folks. Picture?

Happy happy fangirl

I wanted to take a picture with the hot Sith Lord, but I could see that Khursten and Arpee were already rolling their eyes and giving me these “whatta dork” looks. Dammit. If I didn’t have Read or Die duties to attend to, I would have thrown myself at his feet and promised to give him Alderaan and 40% of the planets in the universe if he would marry me. Then we would have sped off in my gunship and lived happily ever after, enslaving civilizations in a galaxy far, far away.

Sith Lords turn me on

(Seriously though, is there a Star Wars cosplay group I can join? I am willing to spend any amount of money to wave a purple lightsaber while dressed in an authentic Sith Lord outfit. And hooking up with a fellow Sith Lord doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, either.)