The Dreaded Ex

The first time I met Fran was on my first venture out to Canadia…a “meet the folks” trip Xtian had arranged after only 6 months of dating*. I had heard her name before, but in my usual self-absorbed self didn’t really pay attention. Fran, you see, was Xtian’s high school sweetheart. A girl he dated for x number of months or years or whatever that was supposedly really smart and also pretty cute. I usually don’t pay attention to things like this because to quote Melissa Joan Hart in “Drive Me Crazy”: “High school love is for saps, or haven’t you heard?!?!” Digress. I had kinda forgotten about her until I walked into Xtian’s rents family room that fateful trip and I see a picture of Fran and Xtian in all prom glory. Unintentional for sure but I could not help to be slightly miffed at this and began to dissect the picture from every possible angle and obsess over it for no apparent reason other than I am a girl and this is what girls do.**

Xtian was invited to his high school reunion, not like a 5 or 10 year, but more like a “graduates of the uber gifted program.” Whatever. Given that I had no prior warning to this, the only thing I had in my bag that was approp was a little wrap dress that pretty much exposed my nonexistent boobage***.

Whatever, geeks love boobs right so I went with it. Well, after stressing about the lack of a camisole or safety pin, I free flowed it with black lacy bra and we take off. We get there and everyone is dressed in kahkis and blazers and like grandmamma dresses…my get-up just does not seem appropriate at all so I start to feel slightly uncomfortable. Then, Xtian decides to ditch me so that he can catch up with all of his old colleagues, teachers, et cetera. So there I am, not knowing a soul, awckward, boobs out and alcohol less****.

So I start wandering the high school aimlessly when I see Xtian talking to a random couple in the hall so I decide to go introduce myself just to have something to do. I walk up and he seems entranced talking to this girl so I kinda nudge myself an introduction. Turns out it is the infamous Fran. Shit. As in I look like shit and shit it his ex who looks like a square but at least is dressed approp for the event. Double shit. After I pretty much introduce myself, I make my way to go and Xtian decides to join me but not before turning back and saying “you look great.”

I mean I say that to people all the time and people say that to me all the time, it is polite and most of the time true, but I don’t know what it was about those three words combined with the wrong wrap dress at the wrong time but it sent me into all kinds of mental nonsense. I never really said anything about it, but that moment just sticks out for me because I am a gal who likes to torture herself.

Fast forward four-and-a-half years later I find myself back in Canadia doing the visit to the in-laws for the holidays (for those wondering the prom picture was NOWHERE to be found because you KNOW I looked). My wonderful mother in law had pulled out some childhood memorabilia for me to check out. Low and behold what do I come across? That’s right, Xtian’s high school yearbook. Of course I start reading every entry trying to find a glimpse of this Fran chick. So sad yet so true. Moving on

On our last day in Canadia, Xtian and I had made plans to have lunch with his high school physics teacher. Fitting, I feel, as he was indirectly responsible for us having an odd yet successful first date in a strange discombobulated way (which I will post on another day if I remember). We opt to meet at a local indoor mall as the city is still covered in snow and getting anywhere is such a wreck. Since I had about 30 mins to get ready I quickly showered, washed but did not dry my hair and applied make-up in Xtian’s dark room. LOVELY. Since we had an hour to kill, I figure it will give my hair time to dry and I can check out my make-up once we get to the mall.

We walk in, I start peeping the windows for any shopping potential, and then Xtian stops dead in his tracks and says “Fran.” Yes, same Fran that I was obsessing over when I read his high school yearbook the night before. Yikes. A nervous giddiness fills me immediately…here I was with sopping wet hair and freaking basketball sized earmuffs unsure of my make-up since I did it in the dark. I kind of felt like Carrie, from SATC, when she kept running into Natasha and the first time she was in cow girl outfit and the next in her underwear. Sigh.

Xtian introduces his fantastic wife and she introduces her bland husband. When discussing where we went on honeymoon he says we went to the Maldives to which she turns to me and says “no wonder you are so tan*****.” I then proceeded to spend the next hour trying to find mirrors in the mall to ensure that I did not overdo it with blush and bronzer (yes even in the snow you need a sun kissed look) so that instead of refreshed look I was going for I did not accidently get the Tammy Fay Faye Baker******* look. Jesus, what is wrong with me?

Nutshell: She is married 2 years in, he is married 2 months in, she just finished her PhD at MIT, he made VP at a prestigious financial firm at 27, her husband also just finished his PhD at MIT, his wife is…tan. Sigh. Well at least I am so cute whereas she is not cute dudes…like at all. Well okay, I guess she is alright, but not like this Natalie Portman I had made up in my head.

Then it hits me, here is this genius girl and her genius husband that have seriously done nothing to me and all I have to retort with is “at least I am sooooooo much better looking than she is”. Seriously? Is this what it boils down to? I mean I am no moron, quantum and advanced math does not faze me (in fact it actually kinda excites me) but let’s face facts…I ain’t impressing anyone lately with my level of smarts. How did I go from NASA interning and science learning to Britney Spears obsessing and Us Weekly reading? I mean it is not a competition…for all my faults I am sure she has her own, we all do. But what the hell am I doing at 30 comparing myself to anyone?!?! Haven’t I established my fabulousness enough that I have to go pick on this poor girl? Le sigh, I will add to my resolutions to rediscover my self-confidence AKA as major ego.

This post is dedicated to Tony Robbins.

* Canadian men and commitment, don’t know what it is but they just dig it.
** To everyone’s defense a pic of my quasi ex whateverness sat in my rents living room for YEARS (probs until about a year ago) when after various Xtian digs I moved it into the toy room. We are a house of procrastinators, sorry.
*** It seems I like to have my boobs constantly on display, don’t know what that is all about
**** I am actually not sure if there was or was not alcohol but I assume I would have been drunk at this point if there was, since I self medicate with alcohol when uncomfortable so I am thinking no.
*****And if by “so tan” you mean “so hot” then yes, that is why I am so hot.
******OMG, I heart her…like HEART HER. Probs more than Britney Spears, but I cannot confirm nor deny that.