A Letter to my High School Self

Dear High School Self,

The year is 2015 and I have good news and bad news. The good news is that the rash finally goes away. The bad news is that Iggy Azalea was nominated for not one but four Grammys. The reason I'm writing to you is because I want to provide some valuable wisdom that would have been really nice to know back in high school. With those braces and that fedora, you really need it.

First of all, you're not a Jonas Brother -- there is no reason anyone who isn't on the Disney Channel should own skinny jeans in that many colours. It is not a good look. One day you will decide to match your mustard-yellow pants with a ketchup-red shirt and a person at school will say you look like a hot dog and you will go home and cry. So don't do it.

Second of all, stop being such a dramatic dirtbag and just be nice to people. Damn. You don't have to make every problem you have with a person become the third act of Macbeth, which by the way will draw some very interesting parallels with a little series called House of Cards so pay attention in English!

Lastly, chill. The thoughts that keep you up at night will go away. It'll no longer anger you that people say "adorkable" -- you will discover that these people simply do not love themselves. There will be times where you feel like you'll never be happy again, but you will. Also, you will write not one, but two Facebook statuses about how you are getting bread. Everything will be fine. 

Anyway, I hope that you know you will be able to figure things out. Life will seem like it moves really slowly and then one day you will find that you've chopped off a lot of your hair and your digestive system doesn't work the way it used to and you will find that time has passed. Congratulations, you have graduated from being a teenager to being an adult baby. Enjoy it.