#tweetyoursixteenyearoldself

There was a trending topic on Twitter recently where people tweeted their sixteen year old selves.

Instead of Twitter, I thought I’d use my blog as a launch pad with which to hurl myself on the bandwagon now instead of doing what I usually do with anything that’s current or trendy or “in” which is to wait until it’s not and then completely immerse myself in it. This usually occurs anywhere from ten minutes to ten years after the fact, right around the time when no one gives a crap about whatever it was anymore and I’m left by the side of the road wearing my Bump-It, aviator sunglasses, Ed Hardy t-shirt and zippered, two-tones jeans yelling SHIT! ANYBODY SEE A BANDWAGON AROUND HERE?

So step away from the boombox and listen up, sixteen year old Andy:

Blue and green eyeshadow? Really? Stop it.

Perms are not your friends. Never have been, never will be.

I know it won’t stop you from agonizing over it but hear me out … you *will* get your driver’s license and then you’ll never have to parallel park again in your life.

It’s not all about you. Not even close.

The extent to which alcoholism will affect your life will be devastating and leave you broken and reeling. Focus. Be strong. It’s not like you’ll have a choice.

Don’t go to the senior ball with Jay. Unless you actually want him to feel you up. Which you won’t.

In the spring, you will have an Intro to Computers assignment in which you will have to write a program to get a digital match to light a digital candle and have it melt down to its digital wick. You will get a “C” on it because it will melt but it will do so diagonally to the left while leaving one big glob of digital wax floating in the middle of your screen. Listen, whatever you do, don’t give up. Take computer graphics and web design in college. Please. I’m begging you. Twenty-five years from now, you’re going to be redesigning something called a blog and your header is going to wind up scrolling off your monitor and your widgets are going to be all wonky and you’re going to be yelling and hysterically crying and curling up into a fetal position and a fat hell of a lot of good your criminal justice degree is going to do you then.

I know your twin brother is one enormous pain in the ass right now but there will come a time when each of you will see the value in the other. He will become one of the most important and loved people in your life. So you might want to think twice about punching him in the groin next week.

Make peace with your boobs. They’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

That guy you just sneered at? The one to whom you muttered “get a room” under your breath because he was looking for his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat over by the lockers? In eight years, you’re going to be his wife and you will find yourself going ten rounds with your mother over whether to celebrate that fact over a buffet or sit-down dinner.

Stick to your guns and demand the buffet because it’s going to be delicious and fourteen years from now, when you become his ex-wife, you’ll be able to count that meal, along with your three year old daughter and a set of awesome former in-laws, as the three best things to come out of that marriage.

Speaking of daughters, you’re going to have two of them! And two husbands. Gobsmacked much?

Your second husband will be wearing a ridiculous 3/4 length wetsuit when you meet him. He will also spend $80 on a chia pet at one point and use the word “negatory” more than once. Try to get past it.

Nothing goes with green and red plaid furniture. Nothing.

You will fall in love with San Francisco. Three times.

The nose you carry on your face now will not be the nose you carry around later. Believe me, we’re all relieved.

Guess what? You actually like children. Your own will be so much nicer than the ones you’re currently babysitting, if only because they won’t whip off their diapers and smear their feces into their spaghettios while you’re earning $1.00 an hour plus tip.

You will be a better mother to your kids than you think you’ll be but nowhere near as good of one as you hope you’ll be.

Enjoy your flat stomach. Soon it will be squooshy and glisten with 850 stretch marks and you’ll look like an out of shape Cullen who’s been left in the sun too long.

Just so you know, Cullen is the name of a vampire family in a popular book series in the next millennium. Your teenage daughter will be completely enamored with them but eventually find herself siding with a half-naked werewolf. I know. I don’t get it either. Except for the half naked part. You will always be a sucker for a great set of abs.

If only I could show you the cold sores you will eventually suffer. Holy Hell. They’ll make those few zits you’re agonizing over look more like a unicorn sneezed little gifts of happy happy joy joy all over your face.

You will overcome adversity, the likes of which you cannot even fathom at this point in your life, which will make that trigonometry test tomorrow pale in comparison. You are stronger than you think, even though you have the arm strength of overcooked linguine and will fail to achieve even one pull up in gym class later on today.

When someone named Gene approaches you in a bar during Christmas break in 1985, run. And don’t look back.

Hang on to your skinny jeans. But ditch the waist-length, two-tone leather jacket. My God, what the hell were you thinking?

Assholes come in all shapes, sizes and ages and you will date a lot of them and by the time you get to my age, you will have a slew of bad choices under your belt but you will discover that out of all of them, your rockiest relationship will ultimately be with God.

Please, please, please, don’t get into that truck. Your back and your soul will pay a far higher price for that one single act alone than all of your foolish, stupid, teenage and early twenties crap combined.

You won’t follow a lot of my advice. You will screw up. You will fail almost as much, if not more, than you succeed and some of your failures will be of epic proportions. But try to remember that each victory and every defeat will mold you into the person who is writing this post and that person? She’s not so terribly bad. Among other things, she graduated college summa cum laude, recently lost 45 pounds, once owned her own business, is raising two awesome girls who tell her every day that they love her, is teaching one of them to drive, just helped the other one rock a Halloween costume, loves all kinds of music and people, can run two miles without vomiting, still doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life but chooses to view that as opportunity instead of a character flaw, takes her marriage vows seriously, and continues to persevere despite the heartbreaking choices of loved ones which pierce her heart and blister her soul. Because that’s what you do when you’re a grown up.

What would you say to your sixteen year old self?

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19 thoughts on “#tweetyoursixteenyearoldself”

  1. I always wanted to point out that I was first commenting somewhere. So, FIRST! 😉 You already know what I’d say to my 16 year old self… I really wish that bitch would have listened to me. Life would have been much easier.

  2. I think this is my most favorite post yet! Even more so because I am constantly comparing my own high school experiences to my 15 year old daughter’s in hopes that she actually learns something from it. And my father who I thought was a gigantic pain in the butt? Pretty smart man!

  3. What an interesting post.
    What would I say to my teenage self. Your life will be so much better then you can possible dream. Oh ya and the love of your life is a big dick, move on 🙂

  4. Pingback: Tweets that mention #tweetyoursixteenyearoldself | thecreativejunkie.com -- Topsy.com

  5. Loved this post.

    What would I say?

    How you feel today? Is exactly how you’re going to feel when you’re turning 35.

    How bad your hair is today? Is exactly how it’s going to look when you’re turning 35, so get to a stinkin hair salon already.

    Make up is your friend, make peace with it.

    Don’t go to the winter carnival with Jason. Seriously, that’s 2 years you could live without.

    All those boys you’re going to date? Total losers. Hold out for a guy named Lance, he’s a keeper. I know, because you marry him when you’re 22.

    Your boobs? Will always be ginormous. In fact, you should major in design, instead of Theology, and market real bras for women with real boobs. Seriously, you’ll make a killing. Also, God? Doesn’t need you to have a Theology degree to talk to Him.

    You’re going to have 2 kids. Try to get over the shock now. Also, prepare yourself for immense amounts of hairpulling, shoving, screaming fights. And copious use of the word “poo poo head”. Trust me, they’ll grow to like each other. I hope.

    Give yourself a break. You’re a pretty cool gal, you write inane nonsense and some folks are really gonna love it. Also, why don’t you try writing when you’re younger and more fresh?

    One day, you and your husband are going to have a conversation/argument over whether or not DVDs are the future of home entertainment. Just agree with him. That way, he won’t shove it in your face every time you reach for a DVD. Trust me.

  6. This is too great! I really want to do one of these… but since im only 19 it seems too creepy to talk to my previous me from 3 years ago and yet have so much advice to give… hmm maybe ill give it a try anyways….

  7. What a great, sweet post! And I’m glad you’ve reached a good perspective point on your climb through the years…

    Me? I can barely remember that girl. I think I might tell her to go hide in a cave and skip the next 20 years…

  8. I agree with one of the other ladies…I love all of your posts, but this is my favorite yet! I need to write a post to my sixteen year old self, but much like my thirty one year old self I am positive that I wouldn’t have listed to myself.

  9. I’d tell her that some day she will “virtually meet” this crazy woman from New York State who will make you laugh especially on the days you really need something to smile about.

    Any if anyone asks you if you want to invest in a company named after a piece of fruit or a book company named after a long river – grab it with both hands!

    And that one day if someone tells you that you will be a mum of 3, a blogger (whatever that is!) and make jewellery – believe them 🙂

  10. Andy, I think I love you. This is a great post. I actually did the hashtag, but then I got emails from people asking me what the hell I was talking about. LOL

    I think I will do a post about this as well. So much easier to get your point across without that 140 character limit.

    And my big brother? I love him but he still is a giant pain in my ass and I wish I could have punched him in the nuts once or twice.

    Just sayin.

  11. Fabulous post! You are an amazing writer. I think the first thing I would tell my 16 year old self is “loosen up” and TRY to remove the stick from my ass… it’s not that bad….I will marry “that bad” in about 10 years and THEN I will have REAL issues. Then I would tell myself to marry the sonofabitch anyway because after 7 years of living hell (or shall we call it ‘character building’) he will prove to be the love of your life and the other half of your soul. And young me will eventually prove to be one hell of a strong, loyal and fairly fabulous woman.

    I would then remind myself to FOLLOW MY PASSIONS (which does NOT always mean boys and sex…dig a little deeper) and embrace your sense of humor and artistic flair…both are special. They may serve you well later…be patient.

    This is of course, just an excerpt of what I would say. I think you’ve opened a whole can of worms, here. I could probably talk to myself for hours. Actually, I do talk to myself for hours…just not the 16 year old version.

    Thanks for this!

    Lori

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