Yep. Another Immunity Challenge is underway. This week's topic: "Suppose you could write a letter to yourself, ten years ago? What would you say? What mistakes would you urge yourself to avoid? Perhaps with that in mind this should also come with a warning: watch what you say - you may lose bad things AND good things about your present situation by changing the past." And away we gooooooo.
Do not be frightened. I know that you never, ever get notes in your locker, so I stuck this one in it so that you would know that it was something special.
I don't really want to freak you out because I know that being 14 is a real bitch anyway... but I wanted to give you a quick couple of pointers to make sure you have the heads up about a few things... believe me, these will benefit you greatly in the future. Don't question why, just know that I am a "wise friend." A "damn fine sexy wise" friend. I am you. Only I'm you ten years from now. That means I'm you, except now I'm 24. (I know that we have a problem with math, so I made that easier for the both of us.)
Okay. I know you're probably freaking out a bit and don't know if this is a true note or anything, but I'll prove it to you:
Even though you hate New Kids On The Block, you and your sister choreographed the entire song "Popsicle," complete with jazz hands and bed acrobatics.
Don't worry, that does not affect your cool factor. "Popsicle" was/is a cool song and you were just having fun. I know. I understand. Joey McIntire is a complete dork, but he does have dreamy eyes. I know.
Now that I've got your attention, I want to give you a quick couple of pointers for the next ten years. Some of this may not make sense, but sooner or later, all of these experiences will happen to you.
Firstly, that game M*A*S*H doesn't really predict the future. You do not live in a Mansion with Joey McIntire or drive a turquoise Ferrari or have 15 bridesmaids. I'm sorry. It's just the way things work out. M*A*S*H is a stupid game that just wastes paper, pencil led, and hope for the future. Might as well not play it all together.
Secondly, study your drivers license manual. I know that it's cool that the state of Louisiana allows you to get your learner's permit at 14, but the state of Louisiana also requires that you pass a written exam. All the answers are in the drivers manual. All of them. Look really hard at the page about road signs, because they throw some trick questions on there.
Thirdly, when you fail the test to get your learner's permit, do not rip up the drivers manual and curse the governor of Louisiana. You will need the manual later and Edwin Edwards actually gets thrown in jail for all those backhanded riverboat gambling contracts he did, so he gets fucked anyway. No use wasting tears on him.
Fourthly, you're not going to get your period for a couple more years. I know, it sucks because everyone already has theirs and you don't but you lie anyway and become involved in debates over tampons vs. feminine napkins. But here's the deal: you'll also end up being six feet tall, while all those other chicks remain at 5'4" and they get kinda fat. So no worries. Oh yeah, you won't get breasts until your junior year of high school, so keep investing in those baggy shirts. Baggy will be all the rage in a year or so, you fashion trend setter, you. And small boobies are way cool. Three snaps in a circle.
Fifthly, you are completely fine the way you are. I know you already know this. I know that your scribblings on your Chuck Taylor's tell you this on a daily basis, but I just wanted to make sure that you knew.. you know, in those times when it feels like you're nobody. Keep wearing that jester hat to school. There is no problem with your Mad Hatter hat. Your beanie? Shit, you really should wear it for your senior picture. Don't worry about what other people think, because, if you ask them later, they'll tell you that they thought you were really cool. Hot damn. (Oh, on another note, don't wear your green hat into Mr. Fucko's class. He'll take it from you and you'll never get it back. Yes, he really is the Devil. You are right.)
Sixthly, don't worry about being the oldest virgin in college. All that stuff that your Mom told you about waiting for a person that you fall in love with? Well, Mom's right. He's out there. You'll fall hard for him. Okay, I don't want to spoil anything for you... but I will let you know that it snows. It snows in Texas.... a definite sign of positivity.
Seventhly, you're on the right path with the theater thing. I'm not going to go any further, as I don't want to get your hopes up... but keep at the theater stuff.. oh, and take some singing lessons if they're available. That might come in handy.
Eighthly, if you have an inkling that a guy is gay... he is most likely gay. Do not waste your time dating a gay guy. They're not worth it and you'll feel like a real idiot when you finally realize that you made a BIG mistake. First clue that a guy is gay: he has all of Shenia Twain's songs memorized and choreographed, complete with hand props and costumes. Who's Shenia Twain, you ask? Some chick that gay guys listen to secretly. I'm still not really sure.
Ninethly, your best friend of 12 years will end up talking about you behind your back. She's using you purely for your car. I know you already feel this, but I wanted to confirm that your suspicions are true. And yes, that Jen chick may do acid and smoke cigarettes, but that doesn't mean that she isn't a cool person. She'll end up being one of the coolest people you ever know.
Tenthly, burn this letter. I know, I know. It's not every day that you get a letter from yourself in the future, but here's the deal: You're on the right path. Every choice that you make is steering you in the right direction. The stuff I listed above are things that I know that, when I was your age (I'm sorry, I know we hate that) I would stay awake worrying about. We need our sleep. Without your beauty sleep, how will you ever become the Super Rockstar that you are now.
I'm kidding. You're not really a Super Rockstar in ten years.
You're a Super Duper Rockstar.
Okay. Find some matches and burn this. There most likely is a book of matches in Mr. Allen's top desk drawer. Yes, he smokes. We find that out later when we run into him at that gay club under the bridge.
Yes, we go to a gay club. No we're not gay... or are we?
I'm sorry, that was cruel.
I need to go now. Joey McIntire just paged me.
LYLAPWMOTYY, (love you like a person who's me, only ten years younger),