I DID IT! I posted every single frickin’ day for 31 days! I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get back to regular programming. I’ve got some juicy recipes up my sleeve (not really, that would be sticky and probably unhygienic), and I’m looking forward to maybe adding some more random life stories around here from time to time, if you’re into that sort of thing? Goodness knows I’ve got plenty of retrospectively hilarious shameful early-20s exploits to share for your amusement.
So today’s prompt I’ve known about for a whole month, and do you think I can come up with something? Nope. Oh wait! There’s one.
In Year 9 I had a series of epic crushes, which wasn’t unusual for me. Of course, in my head I’d assume these dirty, smelly, trucker-hat-wearing boys were actually more sophisticated and gorgeous than they really were. So I had a series of epic crushes on pretty much imaginary people that had the physical form of Shaun (not their real name, I can’t remember any of them) from Shop B.
Now, nobody had any crush on me in Year 9, epic or otherwise, so it was a year of unrequited love. Who were these foreign species? Why wouldn’t they talk to me? How could I trap one and make it love me?
One unassuming afternoon, an opportunity presented itself to me. Our science teacher wanted me to make some honeycomb in the Home Ec kitchen, and bring it to the next class. She told me to take a buddy to the kitchen who would help me (I don’t know if that’s just my superior extra-trustworthy girly swot school nerdery that meant I didn’t need supervision around a hot stove and reactive ingredients, or because it was a small town and this was before everyone sued everyone else for their child’s shins getting kicked in soccer (yes, I did have a mum explain to me once she started action against another mum whose child did in fact, in the course of a soccer match, kick her child in the shins BY ACCIDENT) and we were free to have adolescents cook stuff on their own), and I saw my chance. I sidled up to the boy of the moment, and informed him the teacher asked specifically for him to accompany me in honeycomb-making (not a euphemism). He dutifully trotted off with me to the kitchen, where I remember making the honeycomb, we spoke barely three words to each other, and that was that. I couldn’t quite believe my boldness, and I was worried that I’d get found out, and be teased mercilessly that I concocted such an elaborate ruse just to be alone with a boy.
I got away with it. And nothing happened. And I never told anyone. Because who cares? haha even I don’t any more. But there’s a secret I’ve never told anyone until now. Enjoy, internet!