Dear Younger Me

Dear younger self,

Let’s get a few things straight.

First: It doesn’t matter what your friends—or even, sometimes (albeit very rarely), your parents—say. Never compromise who you are.

Second: That rock band you’re in? Leave. The two guys who live by you will still play with you afterward, and they’re the only ones worth having as friends. Those other two don’t care about your opinion. Don’t even play the concert. Remember what I said about compromise above? They’ll write a song totally trashing one of your best friends (and when you tell her about it she’ll misinterpret it as a death threat!), not to mention that despite promising not to go all Pete Townshend on stage, they’ll still break one guitar and throw another at you without looking, missing your head by only six inches.

Last but not least: When taking SATs, it would behoove you to know that the SAT I ≠ the composite score, and that the SAT II ≠ a subscore. You’re a National Merit Scholar. Come on now.

End of line.

[Ecce signum.]

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