My aunt prepared a scrap book for me this Christmas--a massive collection of photographs, letters, etc. she'd dredged out of old drawers and filing cabinets. I was astounded at what she found--including letters I had written years ago and photos of girls I had dated in high school, including Becky (my all time favorite date).
Reading these old letters, I couldn't help but worry about this blog and if some of my old flames might be able to find me. I mean, what if they were able to track me down (I thought I'd thrown them off the trail years ago). My imagination runs wild. What if, say, this week, I got an email from old girlfriend #1 that read:
So, you thought you could ditch me and get away with it, huh? You creep, you still owe me ten bucks. I don't know where this Brownsburg is, but I'll find you!
Or girlfriend #2:
I studied your photo and bio closely. Boy, have you aged! And not very well! From the looks of ya, I doubt you could dunk a donut. And you were my basketball hero in high school. So, you married that Osborn floozie, huh? She's probably still retaining a lot of water after giving birth to your little cretins. Serves ya right.
Or girlfriend #3:
So, hon, when can we get together?