3 Weeks, Post-Break-Up

1. I decided to throw a party. “Angela’s Going to Be OK Party”. (I decided to leave it ambiguous as to whether the ‘s was possessive or a contraction of Angela-is, with a sort of play on “going away”, which I’m not doing… I thought way, way to long about that.)
It’s going to be at the speakeasy around the corner from my house (The Blind Barber) on Saturday night, in case you are in LA and feel like joining. There's a facebook event that I'll invite you to if you are interested.



2. That actor from the call sheet (from the last post)? I told my mother the story. And she found him on Twitter, and is now a huge fan of his (as a human being, not as an actor). She insisted I tweet him, which I did. I don’t think his character is returning, at least not this season. Oh well. Nice guy. And you should totally look him up on twitter.
Anyway. So I wrote him. And I may have lightly flirted. And I think he might have lightly flirted back. And I might be completely and totally wrong. But honestly, made me REALLY happy. And now I’m nervous and don’t know how to respond... But I totally invited him to the party I'm throwing Saturday, via tweet. I doubt he'll come... but nothing ventured, nothing gained... right?



3. The lead actor on our show came up to me and asked how I was doing. I told him about the break-up, and he said that he had inferred that something like that had happened. He said he went through something similar right before we started filming the season (which I knew, because he's famous and it was in the gossip blogs), and that he thinks it’s good to stay busy, but not so busy that you bury your emotions. I agreed. He told me that I'm awesome, and not to let it get me down. He gave me a big hug, which was lovely.



4. I went out to a bar on Friday night by myself. Because I got out of work early, and I didn’t have rehearsal… and I was lonely. And I wrote to pretty much everyone that I knew in town, but no one could meet up with me. Around 10pm, after still not finding anyone able to meet up with me, but wanting to stop moping in my room, I went to a bar. A speakeasy. And I ordered a fancy grilled cheese. And the waitress, who knew of my plight, bought me a drink and commended me on my bravery.

Phil has said many times that it was his pet peeve to see scenes in movies where a hot woman is sitting in a bar alone. He claims it doesn’t happen in real life. If a woman is at a bar, she’s either with her friends or a man. So here I was, bringing the scenario to life. I may not have looked my most stunning, but I’m not unattractive. And I was alone. And making it very clear through body language that I was open to talking to anyone. I sat there for nearly two hours with nary a bite.
Then, as I was leaving, a guy came up, took my arm, and said, “Leaving so soon?”
You’ve got to be f***ing kidding me. I was there for two hours sitting by myself, hoping for someone to talk to me. But no.
Then, on the way out, I started talking to a nice guy who seemed to work there. Cute, my age-ish. But then he said he had to take care of something and would be right back. He didn’t come back, but the doorman started hitting on me. Dude,  you’re like mid-40s. There’s no way. Also, you’re in your mid-40s and a part-time doorman at a bar. Don’t underestimate me here.


5. I’m in a play called Timon of Athens. It's a Shakespeare play that no one ever does (because it's weird and the ending kind of sucks... It's basically like the reverse of Scrooge's journey in A Christmas Carol. Rich guy starts out generous and loving humanity, and ends being misanthropic and a total dick to everyone). I don’t know if it’s going to be any good. I was actually thinking of dropping out of it, but stayed in so that I’d be busy while dealing with break-up emotions.

I play two characters. One is a Lady and the other is a prostitute. I might not always know who I am as a person, but as an actor, I’m whatever you want me to be.



6. There’s a girl in our cast by the name of Eliza. She went missing mid-rehearsal. I sang out, “Run Eliza! Run from Timon!” (which is only funny and pun-ny if you know “The King and I”, but I thought it was pretty good.



7. There's a guy in the cast who is totally interested in me, and I'm not sure how to handle it. He keeps asking me to hang out with him, and I do, because I'm lonely. But I've been very clear with him that I'm still in love with my ex and really, really, really not looking to get involved with anyone. And flat out shut him down once when he was trying to flirt with me. I'm trying not to lead him on. Really. But he's nice, and it's nice hanging out with him.

Also, we are totally a bad match. He wants to settle down with a nice Jewish girl. I'm Catholic, and that ain't changing. Actually had a whole conversation with him about my opinions on various Popes last night to try to cement in his head that he should not be pursuing me. Not sure that it worked, but I tried.



8. I know I’ve already said this, but dear God are there a lot of men hitting on me. It’s freaking ridiculous. At one point, I was hanging out with the Jewish guy above, and trying to make it perfectly clear to him that this was NOT a date, and pulled out my phone. During the time that I’d been hanging out with him (roughly an hour), I had three new (unread) text messages from guys in Los Angeles asking me out. It’s insane. And do you know how many of these men I’m interested in? Not even one of them. It’s just depressing. (Even the doorman at the bar is texting me… And yes, I know I’m an idiot for letting him guilt me into giving him my number, but in my defense, I told him flat out that I wasn’t interested, and had also imbibed exactly one drink, which means I was drunk off my ass.)

See, I think I fall into this special little box… I’m somewhat attractive, fairly intelligent, mildly entertaining in social situations, and friendly enough that I’m not intimidating, so men all think they have a chance with me. Like I don’t appear to be out of anyone’s league.


9. There’s a female writer on the show whom I think is really cool. I thought her episode was great, and she used to write on another show that I loved (Awake), but that only lasted one season. Anyway. I told her about my break-up. And the next time I saw her, she brought me a necklace. She told me that once, when she was going through a rough break-up, another woman bought her a piece of jewelry as a way of helping her through it, and that it meant a lot to her. She wanted to do the same thing for me. A piece of jewelry that wasn’t purchased for me by a man, that I had never worn during a memory with a man, and that was the mark of a new beginning in my life. I told her I would wear it as a talisman of strength. I haven’t taken it off. It’s a pearly oval with a gold “A” in the center, and not something that I would have ever picked out for myself. But I love it so dearly that I can’t articulate it.

10. Remember how an actor on set told me to download Tinder? That same guy was back on set yesterday, asked me if I was using Tinder, and then casually mentioned that I had popped up on his Tinder. Is this his way of propositioning me? Like, trying to get me to use Tinder until I see his profile, say that I’m interested, and we get matched up? (Note: we have an age difference of 7 years, of which he is fully aware.) Am I reading this wrong? He’s very funny, and kind of cute, but he also is the ex-fiance of the sister of one of the writers on the show whom I really like, and this could get weird. (We just became friends on Facebook. We'll see.)


11. One of the stand-ins I work with keeps showing me pictures of himself from facebook throughout the last several years, many of which are him without a shirt on (dear God, he had a nice body). Is this him hitting on me? Or is he just a douchebag who puts a bunch of shirtless pictures of himself on facebook?
In any case. He went through a bad break-up in January, right before we started shooting, so he’s been giving me break-up advice. Which is nice, because he’s just been through it… but also usually seems super inaccurate to what would help me.
Side note: he has a cra-zay-zy ex-girlfriend. So he has started casually dating a new girl. And he was at his house one night, making out with the new girl, and got 7 text messages in the span of about 2 minutes. And then they heard sobbing coming from outside the window. He stopped the make-out session to see what the noise was, and saw his ex standing in the middle of the street weeping. Turns out, that night would have been their anniversary, so the ex decided to come over and surprise him (to try to rekindle things? Or just for a booty call? Not sure). When he didn’t respond to her texts (and she saw the lights were off), she remembered that the lock on the door to his porch is broken, jimmied it open, and snuck inside, thinking she’d surprise him when he got home (in what universe is that a good idea?). When she heard make-out sounds, she freaked out and ran into the street crying.


12. I decided to write to the casting director of the show I work on to try to get an audition. I was really nervous about whether this was a good idea, which was why I waited so long. But then I figured, I’m never going to feel safer with any other crew of people than I feel with this one. So I might as well go for it, right?

Well, I got a response. The casting director said she wishes she had known about me earlier, but it doesn't look like there will be any roles for me that haven't already been cast. She was super nice about it. And I wrote back that I'm kicking myself for not writing to her earlier. She wrote, "No, don't kick yourself! It will happen. I've heard great things about you."

So fingers crossed for the future. Again, nothing ventured, nothing gained... right?


13. Texted Phil yesterday.

I put down a $100 cash deposit on a car he didn't end up buying (Gene Simmon's daughter's Dodge Charger), and the place still hasn't refunded my money. Phil said he'd take care of it. (He lives 5 minutes from the dealer; I live 45 minutes from the dealer.) He told me he went in person, and that they said they'd send a check, and gave me the name and number of the person he spoke with. Two weeks later, still no check. I called the guy, and he said he didn't remember Phil, but that they probably sent the check, and I should keep waiting.

I texted Phil about it. He said he's sorry, that he'll go back next week if I still haven't gotten the check, and that he'd be happy to lend me the money if I need it.

But here's the thing: I feel like, if he were classy, Phil would just give me the $100 out of his pocket, and deal with getting the refund for himself. Because in my mind, that money was a loan from me to Phil. So him offering to give me a loan is just wrong.

My mother told me to take him up on it. And then just stop trying to get the money back from the dealer. And if he asks me about it, to just say, "Still haven't gotten a check from the dealer," and make him deal with it. And then, if and when I get the check from the dealer, to endorse it and mail it to Phil.



14. So we were texting. And he said he's worried about me, and that he hates thinking that he has caused me any suffering, and that he's beating himself up. So I texted. "I'm better. Still angry that you never took me on that date."

Because, you know, we kept saying that someday, we'd live in the same city, and we could go on dates like a normal couple. And I kept trying to make that happen. I even tried to take him out to a nice dinner a couple of times, but he wouldn't let me. So instead, I just paid for lunch at every possible opportunity, since I knew he was worried about money. And he said as soon as he got paid, he'd take me out to dinner (he also promised to take me to Disneyland and Hawaii, but whatever; I would've been happy with a nice dinner at the not-expensive Italian restaurant by my house). But he never did.

He wrote back, "Oh fuck. I'm sorry. Really wanted to do that."

I wrote back, "No you didn't. You had a month. If you wanted to, you would have."

I actually started writing something else far more vitriolic right after sending that text, but my coworkers could see the smoke coming out of my ears and stopped me. So that was all the anger that he actually received.

He wrote back, "I don't want to fight," followed by more well wishes and apologies.



15. It's a rollercoaster, dealing with this stuff. Most of the time, I'm just f***ing angry. I'm f***ing angry that he put me through so much s*** over the last three years, and that I put up with it because I f***ing loved him. I dealt with a lot of stuff that I shouldn't have had to deal with, because I was so convinced that he was my destiny, and that we were meant to be together, and that we were somehow going to have a happily-ever-after, and that all the tough stuff was just a rocky part of the road.

I did my part. I worked at it. I put in the effort. I tried. So hard. I bent over backwards trying to make his life better and easier, and I sacrificed so many things that I wanted. Like when there was a show that I wanted to be cast in, but he told me that if I left LA right after he got here, it would be too great of a strain on our relationship. So I didn't even audition, because I couldn't imagine my life without him.

And he couldn't even take me on one lousy f***ing date. Not one.




My mother thinks I don't know my worth. Maybe she's right.

The Name on the Call Sheet

All day, I've been thinking that I should come home and blog to vent my frustrations of a very weird and upsetting week*. But instead of having to trudge through that muck, I'm going to save you by telling you an extremely lame, totally uneventful tale from my day, which got me smiling and gave me a bit of my spark back.

A former child-star actor** had a small role on the TV show I work on today.

And I may or may not have at one point in my youth totally had a crush on this child actor. And, lucky for me, he grew up totally hot. So when I saw his name on the call sheet yesterday (and, mind you, 98% of people would not recognize his name), I got kind of geeked (actually, I get geeked by a lot of the people we've had on the show... pretty much any time I see a name on the call sheet and know who the person is without looking them up I get geeked, so maybe I'm just more of a Hollywood newbie than I would like to admit).

Yeah. Not proud of anything that I've just written, looking back on it. But whatever. Moving on.

Totally made the mistake of telling one of the other stand-ins that I knew who this guy was, and that he was coming, and that he grew up hot. And also putting on makeup halfway through the day, right before this actor was going to get to set (not because I was entertaining any sort of delusion that this arguably famous person was going to get one look at me and fall madly in love and carry me into the sunset; more because, you know, I'm vain, and I hated the idea of this guy thinking I was a mess, which is basically what I am right now. So it was less Molly Ringwald-style wishful makeup-ing, and more Doug-era beautify-ing Bluffington). The other stand-in noticed this, and then kept egging me on to go talk to this actor while he was on set.

Here's the thing about being a stand-in: you don't always actually get to talk to the actors. It really depends on the situation. Sometimes we talk.  Yesterday I got break-up advice from an actress (who was in "Mean Girls") who told me that I'm probably co-dependent like she is. And another actor made me download some weird dating app called Tinder (the only redeeming quality of which is that it feels somewhat empowering to reject 100 men in a row based only on their age, terrible photo, or fact that you have no "shared interests" showing on your respective facebook profiles). Recently I told an actor who was briefly on The Office that his character was referenced again this season, and explained the whole plot of an episode. But this is not really what I do every day. Most days, my job is very jobby. Just like when I was working in a Chicago skyscraper cubicle, while I talk to the people in my department every day, I don't always have time to get into conversations with people in other departments (like the actors, or as they are referred to on set, "first team"; the stand-ins are called "second team"), even though we smile and say hello as we pass each other in the hallway.

Sometimes, actors really WANT to have relationships with their stand-ins. (Michael Emerson is totally kind to his stand-in on "Person of Interest", for example, and bought him a well-thought-out Christmas present last year with a card addressed "to my friend and colleague", which totally made his stand-in's whole year. And I'm pretty sure Tina Fey and Tom Cruise are real-life friends with their stand-ins.) And sometimes, they don't. Some actors, in fact, don't want relationships with ANYONE on the crew, and ask their hair and make-up team not to talk to them while making them gorgeous. Usually, you get an idea of how personable the actor is going to be pretty soon after you meet them, but not always.

Right. So. I don't generally just go up to any actor who stops by our show and just start talking to them. You kind of have to feel out the situation first, or else you end up watching Michelle Trachtenberg tell Leighton Meister that she thinks you've been stalking her since 1994, but that's a story for another time...

So then he showed up. And is totally attractive (in a John Krasinski way). And he was clean-cut and  dressed all 1950's-esque. And it totally distracted me from the week of pain, despair, and peer-pressured drunkenness that I've just been through.

Then the other stand-in (who I think is trying to help my through the trauma of my extremely recent break-up) said that she wanted to set us up, "just like Amelie" (although I saw this movie, it was long enough ago that her qualifying description means absolutely nothing to me, so feel free to explain in the comments). I begged her not to do so. And then I casually said, "for all I know, he's gay." (Although really, really hoping he's not, because it's so much harder to crush on celebrities -- quasi or otherwise -- once you know that they're not even willing to entertain the idea of dating your gender, let alone someone as lame as you probably are in their eyes.) She seemed to give up on the idea of introducing us. Or of me pursuing him (did she really think that was going to happen?). And I was pleased.

Later, while I was on set, waiting to stand-in (usually, the actress I cover hops away from set whenever they aren't rolling, but today she had gotten into a conversation with two other actors, so I stood off to the side joking to some of the idle crew members, waiting to see if I were actually required), the actor started speaking to me. And then we had a delightful little conversation. We started off talking about some of the oddities of the '50s, and by the end were improvising back-story about his character. And it was good fun.

I didn't make a fool out of myself by telling him that I knew exactly who he was or that I totally have the title track from the Lohan TV-movie he was in on my iTunes. It was just nice. (Don't get too excited: the entire conversation spanned three minutes at most and we never introduced ourselves by name.)

[Now, the next episode is going to be directed by the woman who directed "Now & Then", so no promises that I won't make an ass out of myself in front of a debatably-famous person before the month is through, but I still think progress has been made.]

I don't actually know if this actor is going to be back or not. It seems plausible that his character could recur, but he only had one line in the episode we are currently shooting, so if he does come back, it won't be for a couple of weeks. But from that three minute conversation I had with him, he actually seems pretty delightful. I'd actually really like to talk to him more if he comes back. And maybe flirt a little (with a couple more weeks of singledom under my belt, I might actually be ready to do so). I very much hope he returns, as I would like that very much.

Look, I'm not a star-chaser. I'm not. (If I were, I would have been fawning over the very talented former American Idol contestant*** whom I hung out with over the weekend, as he gave me more than one unusually long bear hug, as though he'd known me for years.) That's really not what this post is about. (Besides, it's not exactly like he's Matt Damon or something. I think I'm the only person on set who even knew who he was.)

Over the last week, I've had a crazy amount of men hit on me (I've been to three bars in the last week. I don't know if I've ever been to three different bars in one week before, ever). And I haven't been in a place where I could enjoy or appreciate that. I've been in a place of "you're not Phil." (And then drunkenly petting the furniture, because my strongest sense is touch, and my love of exploring the tactile is apparently emphasized by not being sober, as I no longer have a sense that divining glee from exploring surfaces with my fingers is in any way culturally inappropriate). I even had a guy wait two hours until I got off work and then physically come over to my house, and then I very bluntly said, "it's obvious that you find me intriguing and are here to explore whether you want something romantic with me, but that's just not going to happen. Also, you're not allowed to sit on my bed, because that feels too intimate, so I will sit on the bed while you sit in the [very uncomfortable wooden] chair." (And then I proceeded to talk at him about my break-up for three hours. But I sent him home with 6 bottles of the Stella that was taking up room because I had it for Phil... so while I am emotionally unavailable and mentally unstable, I'm not a complete b****.)

And it was nice today to be able to talk to a male and not have that feeling. Him being cute was a bonus. And I would've enjoyed it very much even if he hadn't been a name I recognized on the call sheet. (Although that does make it a more entertaining story.)

May you be pleasantly surprised by cheerful distractions,

~A~

*(If you missed my last post, I've been dumped by my boyfriend of nearly three years. I'm actually handling it better than I thought I would, which is to say that I haven't broken down in tears at work yet, which I totally did multiple times in the wake of being dumped by Brian.)

**(Yeah, I know you're curious. But I didn't want to say who it is at the top of the post, because then it just feels like name-dropping. Also, I don't want to write his name in case he has a google alert on for himself and then ends up on the show again and I have to go through a mortifying event because of that... but I don't think he can possibly have a google alert on for the word "Alfalfa", so that's your massive clue. Also, he was in a movie titled "Get a Clue", and I doubt he has a google alert on for that because it's not something that anyone would expect to be mentioned online again. So if you still don't know who this is, just take those clues to google... and you probably still won't know who it is. But I do, and that's really all that matters to the story, right?)

***(Bearded guy who played jazz on a string bass. If you watched the 10th season, there's no way you don't know who this is.)

2 Years, 9 Months, 28 Days

He came over to my place, which he rarely does. He asked if we could sit on the bed. He said that I should brace myself.

Just like Michael, back in 2007.

Thanks for playing.

I spent more time consoling him than anything else. He was here for hours. I gave him two of the Stellas from my mini-fridge that I had stocked up on for his occasional visits, and he went on his way.

I skyped my brother. I called my ex, Brian. And in the morning, I woke up with a face so puffy that I could barely open my eyes.

I love him. I wanted to marry him. And now, it's just over.

I gave him back his grandmother's ring. The red stone that I wore daily on my left ring finger. He told me to keep it. But how could I ever wear the ring of my ex-boyfriend's dead grandmother?

He kept crying. He started hyperventilating when he realized that we weren't going to have the son that we had agreed on a name for. I got him water, rubbed his back, and told him to breathe. He broke up with me, and I had to be the strong one.

I didn't know whether to be kind to him so he'd see the error of his ways and change his mind, or be cruel so that he would know the damage he'd done. I suppose, in retrospect, that he was hurting plenty on his own.

I don't understand. We were finally in the same place. We were finally going to have a real, normal relationship. Yes, we had some adjustments to make and some kinks to work out. But he gave it a month and threw in the towel. (He arrived on March 2nd, and broke up with me April 2nd.)

This is the longest relationship I've ever had, albeit an unconventional one. We were going to hit three years in June.

He told me he still wants me in his life. That I'm his best friend. That I'm his family.

I can't imagine not talking to him every day. But I also know that I'll never heal if I don't cut off contact fully. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to.

I feel so very alone. And so very scared.