January 8, 2012

A Letter to my Younger Self

Dear 12 year old me,

I have some good news and some not-so good news about the next 17 years. Where shall I begin?

You do not marry Ronan Keating.
As yet, there’s still no sign of hoverboards. (That Michael J Fox has a lot to answer for).
Take That split up. Robbie Williams gets fat. Gary Barlow also gets fat.
You haven’t yet holidayed in Space. Though you do get as far as Cyprus – and it’s fabulous.
In your quest to find a boyfriend who looks like Grant Mitchell - you end up dating a lot of men who look unfortunately like Phil Mitchell.

You are no longer a short-arse.
You know that gawky looking fresh prince of Bel-Air? Think of him as an ugly duckling.
Gary Barlow gets fit. Take That reunite.
We have progress: Hillary Clinton is now officially more powerful than her husband Bill. Rugby Union legend Gareth Thomas came out. A black man runs the White House.
The Lion King returned to cinemas in 2011, this time – in high definition and 3D. You still remember (some of) the words.
You fall in love and get married. Your husband makes you smile every single day. I’m pleased to report –he doesn’t look a thing like Phil Mitchell.

That thing you’ve heard about called the internet? It’s going to be huge. It may even compensate for the lack of hoverboards.
You change your mind about the whole teaching career thing. Have a Plan E.
Princes William and Harry actually become borderline hotties. (Briefly).
Beware: Facebook.

No need to thank me – I know I am brilliant.

Yours,

Me (aged 29¼)

Kisses xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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http://outofsinkink.wordpress.com Tate the Great

I love it! This post put a big grin on my face. When I was a kid (a pathetic, lonely only child), I would write letters to my future self. I think I actually believed I could boss my future self around. I must have thought these letters would be helpful, in case I lost my way, so as to ensure I would not forget all the things I was supposed to be and do. My god those letters are depressing to read when you don’t do anything awesome with your life! My letter to my past self would say something like this: “STOP WRITING LETTERS YOU PRECOCIOUS LITTLE ***T! You’re not helping your future self esteem!!!”