kryptonite

I think I just might have super powers. See, I have this amazing talent. I - lowly little me - I have [cue drumroll and the deep announcer voice-over guy] the incredible and amazing ability to turn any, yes ANY, situation into an awkward one. I am that powerful. And my powers were in full effect last night.

See, last night, the ex-boyfriend came over for dinner. the same ex-boyfriend who recently wrote me that email. The same ex-boyfriend to whom I wrote an equally friendly but cavalier reply. The one I didn't think would actually follow through on his "promise to be a better friend." I mean, who would? We all say things we don't mean. Oh, it is SO good to see you again. Let's meet up for coffee, mmm-kay? Great! Bye sweetie! And then it's back to your own little world, devoid of ex-boyfriend encounters and devoid of any intention to call him up and make plans to meet for coffee.

And then he goes and spontaneously shows up for dinner.

It shouldn't have been awkward. It really shouldn't have. He was there. I was there. But so were my suitemates. And American Idol. And clearly, American Idol is the best icebreaker known to man. It's the one thing where it is perfectly acceptable to snark about the contestants, regardless of the company you might be with. We ended up sitting across from each other, so every time I looked up, I had to look at him. Instead of behaving like a normal person, I immediately angled my chair away so I could look directly at the television. At least, that was my thinking. But I realize that to any other observer in the room, it merely looked as though I was pushing myself away from having to engage in any kind of conversation with him. And in fact, when I turned back to get some more food (and given my luck, caught his eye again, of course), he gave me MY patented quizzical eyebrow-raised what are you doing? look. Then, in my rush to turn away, I ended up dropping curry all over the table, instead of onto my plate.

But my awkwardness didn't end there. My suitemate started asking him some questions - the most obvious one being - so, what are you doing here? But, instead of listening to his answer (which I desperately wanted to know), I started chatting with my other suitemate about the next William hung. I was overly loud. Overly animated. Overly much. Just too overboard. Too extra.

And then, my two roommates retreated to the kitchen for some reason or other, and he and I were left sitting there. With American Idol - which coincidentally decided to go to commercial. I started flipping through the channels; my button-pushing skills going at 50 channels per minute, and the awkwardness started to fill the room. No, I'm not going to make it awkward. I'm going to be good. I'm chill. I'm cool. I can do this. Yes. I started chanting to myself, steeling up my nerve to talk to him. I finally swiveled around, looked at him, and said:

"Soooo...what brings you to town today?"

To town. I said to town. And then my overanalytical mind...went to town.

Oh crap. I sound as though he just pulled up in a horse-drawn carriage and he rode in from his farm and after a heavy day of trading his bushels of wheat, decided to drop by and call on us. Oh crap! AND I just asked him what my friend asked him! Now he going to think I'm rude for not listening in the first place. Stupid stupid stupid!

And then the word vomit started coming out.

"Oh, I know Jules just asked you...But I couldn't hear your answer over the cacophony of bad singing...And yeah, it was really a huge surprise to see you, although I totally know that you weren't here just to see me...I mean, not that I didn't want to see you...Because I totally think we should be friends...And speaking of which, it was really cool of you to email me...Thanks for that...And yeah..."

I always trail off on awkward conversations with "and yeah..."

He, for his part, was very normal. His best friend (and my childhood friend), and his roommate, ended up coming later for dessert. I was smart and kept my mouth shut as we all watched the Olympics. Although I did keep getting more cake...Probably my body's way of making sure my mouth didn't get me in awkward-trouble again.

I promise I will work on my awkwardness.

But wouldn't you be awkward if the FIRST time you see your ex-boyfriend after an extended period, he asked to crash on your couch for the night? Or be weirded out that he spontaneously showed up for dinner, but was thoughtful enough to bring a dish of his own as well, in case there wasn't enough food? Or be somewhat stunned that he went and got a haircut before he saw you? And what would you do the next morning, when you realize he left you a thank-you note before he hopped on the bus headed for Ex-Boyfriend Land?

I know he didn't come to see me and only me. But it was still weird.

I will work on it. I will stop being so awkward around my dating history. Smack me. Pinch me. Soccer-punch me. It will happen. I WILL be cool one of these days.

And in the process, I'll probably get a whole lot better at baking cakes too.