Inspired by Amy's writing prompt.
Dear 17-Year-Old Jennie,
First, stop cutting your jeans and instead put "boot-cut denim" on your Christmas wish list. You're ruining your wardrobe, and in five years when you work your butt off and can once again fit into those skinny things, you'll look stupid and you'll only be able to wear them to check the mail. And even then, the neighbors will snicker. Although six months after that your toe won't be able to fit into them so maybe wear them as much as you can. Even though it's really not a good look. Neither are those Doc Marten sandals. (The ones that weigh five pounds. Each.)
Also, more studying! In just about a year's time you're going to graduate from high school 49th in your class. The kicker: There will be 480 graduating seniors.* And that math is crueler than Algebra II was, I know. So stop winging it during tests. And even though you'll eventually get into your dream school, it will be touch-and-go for a while and you don't deserve that stress, what with all the jean-cutting energy you obviously need.
Now, he hurt you, I know. He forgot all there was to love about the two of you because of the new people in his life. And it feels as if you must hang on to the shreds of the relationship that are left, but, no, you don't. Walk away with your dignity in tact. You're going to fall in love again, sooner than you think and when you do, he'll come back. He'll come RUNNING back. And you'll say no, and you'll mean it. So, trust me, say no right off the bat. And save yourself the humiliation. Hold that chin up and wish him well and take the memories with you when you go. (And since I know you're going to flat-out ignore me, just know people care about you and want to help you through this. Some things you must face alone but this is not one of them.)
Please don't quit your job because he still works there. He'll quit like a week after you. Lazy bastard.
I'm not even going to touch on food here because regardless of what anyone says, it's a battle you need to fight and this is one of those things you have to go at alone. But you'll be OK. Eventually, my girl, you'll be just fine.
I want to tell you what's in store for you, to keep you holding on. But I know you're going to hold on anyway. I know you have this beautiful belief that things will get better, just up ahead. And you know what? One day you'll be right. And you'll meet a certain redhead and he'll quiet all the noise. And you'll watch The Office together and rewind Sonic commercials and ... well, I don't want to spoil everything because when he arrives, it's going to floor you. It's going to stun you with its un-expectancy. And you're not going to believe you deserve all that fun. All that happiness.
But you do. You always have.
Love,
25-year-old Jennie (Lord, almost 26. Come to think of it, how about we scratch everything above and let me just hate you and the size of your 17-year-old ass for a little while.)
P.S.: I can hardly wait for you to meet Molly.
P.P.S.: Just one thing: JOEY PICKS PACEY!
::
Note: Top 10 percent of any Texas graduating high school class received automatic admission to any state public school in the year 2000. 49 of 480 = Top 10.2 percent.






LOL
you're funny....but i was patiently waiting for pictures of 17-year-old Jennie!! Cut jeans and doc martin sandals and all!
p.s. when is your 26th birthday?
Posted by: Roz | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 03:23 PM
Ouch!! That sucks about the school thing. A little stress probably made you all the more grateful though, right?
Posted by: MomSmoo | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 03:43 PM
Hi! Fellow jean cutter here!
10.2...oooooh sooo close!
Posted by: AmyM | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 04:07 PM
PS. Tomorrow. 9 pm EST.
(I'm counting down, too.)
Posted by: AmyM | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 04:11 PM
OMG, I had totally blocked out those heavy, heavy sandals. What were we thinking? Also, I was not so studious in college and managed to graduated with a 2.99. I blame it on my B in Tap class that I was supposed to get an A in (who knew that a damn Paddle & Roll would be so hard?!). I still round that bad boy up though. And when is your birthday? :)
Posted by: Katie | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 04:21 PM
hahaha I LOVE the joey picks pacey thing! I was sooooooooo into Dawson's Creek!
Posted by: Miss | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 04:59 PM
awwww, the creek. I am pretty sure i am marrying jason cause he reminds me a bit of Pacey...mixed with a little Spike from Buffy. What did we do without the WB?!?!?
and a woot woot for class of 2000 in the Hiz-ouse!!!!
Posted by: Rebecca | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 05:03 PM
Mmmmm spike. So much hotter when he was bad then when he went all whiney and had feelings.
(The above ramble is Rebecca's fault)
Posted by: Raven (just expressive) | Wednesday, September 26, 2007 at 05:53 PM
Hee hee. Guess we all have some fashion nightmares in our pasts.
Posted by: paranoid | Thursday, September 27, 2007 at 12:38 PM
I think I might have a really hard time writing a letter to my 17 year old self. That would an interesting thing to try though....maybe I'll blog about it someday.
Posted by: Kristie | Friday, September 28, 2007 at 05:08 PM
I miss Dawson's Creek.
Yeah, I said it out loud.
Posted by: Robert Mass | Monday, October 01, 2007 at 04:27 PM