ETA: someone complained I wasn't forthcoming enough in this post. So, fine. Get out your popcorn. I changed his name
I had the most adorable gradeschool boyfriend. He was all shaggy haired, blonde, just like Luke Skywalker. And he was polite to my mom and my aunt Kat. And so, he was perfect. And I planned our lives accordingly, by writing my name with his. Mrs. Carl Rogan. Mr and Mrs. Carl Rogan. Robyn and Carl Rogan. With hearts. All over. In a sweet little gradeschool doodley fashion.
In the 4th grade, he dumped me uncerimoniously for my arch nemisis. She was everything I wasn't. She was worldly and edgy, and wore combat boots. And didn't strive to smell like strawberry shortcake and be as colorful as rainbow brite. I couldn't compete with her edgy older womanliness. So, I faded away from him.
The thing about living in the same area growing up, is that you'll spend your entire life with the same kids. So of course we went to Junior High together, where he went the popular jock route and I slid into the edgy artistic route via speech/debate/theatre.
In high school, I was sporting flannel and black lipstick and he was sporting a letter jacket, but did I still keep tabs on him? Oh, yes ma'am, I did. All the while agreeing with my anti-establishment friends that all the jocks were douchebags. I would listen to Pearl Jam and bemoan that only Eddie Vedder could understand the depths of my soul. Meanwhile, I transferred my crush over to a truly sad, long, tale. And slowly I let Carl Rogan by the wayside. Always holding to him being the first boy I really kissed, not just the little peck on the lips. And smiling fondly, and sometimes sadly at how fickle men can be.
I ran into Carl a few times after graduation, working summer jobs between college. He was going through an awkward phase. Yet, my girlhood feelings would always rekindle when I saw him. And I'd freeze up and be unable to actually speak coherent words. Because at some point, I lost my ability to communicate with males who weren't completely gay. (i've worked on that, by the way, i can have actual conversations with straight men. I should name a book that.)
Then I went to college, had all manner of misadventures, but often told my getting dumped in gradeschool story as my big epic past thingy.
And that was it. Until one day, Carl waltzed back into my life. And I forgot how to talk to guys again, and apparently missed all sorts of signs pointed out by all my friends, and then he was gone, again.
And I spent the better part of a year writing a book where Carl Rogan ended up as a protagonist. So, now I'm just... my curiosity as to where he is, and if he's still single, is completely piqued.
SOOOOOOO...
I googled him. I didn't just google. I'll be open here, I searched facebook, too. I might have spent a few hours imagining how he maybe does the same thing, while looking at his friends locked profile page for clues. Then I didn't friend him so I couldn't be rejected.
In honor of my dwelling in my past, I'm posting former cake endeavors for this week.
The white cake is from my very first caking class. The Grinch cake was my present to my co workers a few years ago. they medical id cakes were for my co workers at a related medical id job. The Cass cake was a birthday gift and the monopoly cake was for a family reunion. we're nuts about monopoly. and cake.
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