These blog posts with the common theme "what I would tell me twenty-year old self" are dime-a-dozen and featured daily on Facebook, and I'm think it's about time someone says something about it.
I get it, we were young, dumb and we made mistakes. But come on, if your twenty-something-year-old-self really went back in your time machine would you change it all? Impart some earth-shattering advice about self-esteem and keeping your friends close then miraculously graduate with a honors into your fantasy life, with a big house and rich husband?
I wouldn't. And with that, here are the bits of advice I would tell my twenty-year old self, knowing there is no f**king way that could ever f**king happen:
-Weed your garden. Friends will come and go. Some will stay. Love them if you feel like it, leave them if you feel like it. Be a good enough person to be surrounded by good enough people, and you'll be fine. Even if you lose touch, you can always stalk them later on Facebook.
-Drink too much. This is the only time in your life you will be able to afford it. Well, maybe not financially, but in terms of calories and hours of sleep you need to survive, this is as good as it's going to get. There will soon come a time when you are handed a diploma and can no longer mix Franzia blush boxed wine, Keystone light beer from a keg and McCormick's brand anything in the same night and survive it. Which brings me to...
-Frat Guys. What a blessing. They aren't all what your parents warned you about. Sure, you should keep an eye on your drink, but adults have to use that caution as well. Frat guys are the best. They're just normal guys disguised in Polo and Ray Bans, and they have an endless supply of the above stated libations. Frat-party it up.
-Designate a driver. The best choice is the one with a yellow light on top of his yellow car. Because the likelihood of anyone else in the group staying true to the task is narrow at best. And if you don't trust yourself enough on this one, rent an apartment within stumbling distance to the bars.
-Go to class, most of the time. You're gonna skip class, it's gonna affect your GPA. NO ONE LOOKS AT YOUR GPA. Trust me, you'll watch the grades suffer, you'll learn your lesson. You'll learn an unbreakable work ethic, through experience and mistakes. You'll leave your GPA off your resume, you'll make connections and you'll land that job. But still give it a good effort and never ever schedule an 8am class.
-Wear UGG Boots. Sure, everyone says they look stupid. And with Nike Running shorts, they kind of do. But you're about to move to Colorado and discover that UGG Boots are the shit. But just remember, you're poor, so buy the knock-offs from Target. And rock those boots with the fur, girl. But not with leggings. Leggings are not pants. Not anywhere. Never.
And there's absolutely nothing else I would tell myself. 20, as well as the surrounding ages is the only time in your life (until you're 90, with dementia) when you can say, do and feel anything you want and you will be forgiven (within reason, don't be a dick or a felon.) You'll make mistakes, you'll rebuild. You'll want to tell all 20 year olds to grow up. Bite your tongue. Let life take it's course. None of us got where we are today because our future, lame-ass selves jumped on our hippogriffs and shook our fist at our crazy-ass selves.
Plus, soon we'll be thirty and nothing will be forgiven. And that's gonna suck.