Dear 20-year-old Self,
Hi! It has been a long time since I've thought about you. I was looking through pictures the other day and saw your face. Can I just say that you looked good girlfriend! No lines, thinner than what you've recently become, calves like steel. Pretty cute with your gothy black hair and sun-deprived Pacific Northwest face.
I just have one question for you.
Why the hell didn't you bang more guys? I mean, I know your bright green eyes were transfixed on that cigarette-puffing-pepsi-chugging first love prince of yours - but dude, he was fucking around on you! You should have dumped his ass and scored with British Rob! That night he knocked on your door at 2AM licking his English lips and you turned him away because you didn't want to be slutty.
All I'm saying is that if you knew then what I know now, you'd have appreciated your flexibility a little bit more.
Love,
Your 30-year-old Self
6 comments:
My 20 year old self made a lot of mistakes...including being married at 25...so...you got more ass than I did, I'm sure...
Well, given that I saw more action on your wedding night than you did...
Ahh, young one. That is what we call experiencing life.
Seriously though - we all make mistakes and many of them happen when we are young. I'm still making stupid mistakes though and I'm 30.
I often want to go back to my 20-year-old self and punch him in the face for not getting more tail. Stupid 20-year-old.
It is as it's supposed to be.
Actually, my love life at 20 was fine - was young and in love. 23? Yucky.
Yes but English Rob? C'mon Shay - you remember him...
And I'm pretty sure that if Hans Ostrum remembers me at all, he remembers me as the girl who ditched his class for monkey business in a parking lot.
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