I keep seeing blog posts about things people would like to go back and tell their teenage selves if they had the chance. Some of them are serious, offering real pearls of wisdom. Some, like the very talented Annie of the blog Annie Off Leash, revisits her 16-year old self in a way that threatens computer screens everywhere with projectile sprays of whatever beverage her readers happen to be drinking.
Seriously, click on the link. You won’t regret it. I’ll even wait until you get back.
There you are! Oh, I’ll give you a moment to wipe the beverage off your computer screen. Now, didn’t I tell you it would be worth it?
Alas, there is nothing I would tell my teenage self, for the simple reason that I know she won’t listen to me. She won’t listen to anybody. She still doesn’t, all these years later. I was born a rebel without a clue and I will die a rebel without a clue.
So, since my teenage self won’t listen to advice, I started thinking about what she would say to me if she had the chance to see what we’ve done with our life. This is pretty much what I imagine she would ask me:
- Seriously, we drive a Tercel?
- What’s a Jepeto?
- Got any smokes?
- Are we a vampire?
- Then what’s with all the black?
- How many kids do we have?!
- What do we do for a living?
- Is that, like, advertising?
- Why aren’t we drunk?
- Are all those shoes ours?
When I was 16, I wanted a rich, handsome husband, a beautiful mansion, an exciting job and a Porsche. Well, apart from the job, I’ve got none of those things. Yet somehow, I don’t think 16-year old Nicky would find me too much of a disappointment.
At least, not after she sees our shoes.