Dear Self,

This is how you're going to live for at least a few months, just as an experiment.

1) No more (waaaaaaay) older men. As A so eloquently pointed out, "nearly every 20-something male is either (a.)scared of commitment, (b.)power-hungry, or (c.) trying to get ass while putting in the least amount of effort you will allow." While you did a very nice job of convincing yourself that he was none of the above, the train wreck break-up(?) last night proved that you were 0/3. Frick.

2) No more coworkers. It was a bad idea with Captain Asshole, a worse idea with Number Two, and the worst possible idea to continue seeing Captain Asshole even though he treated you like shit and wasn't even that attractive... at all. Way to set up healthy relationship patterns.

3) No more skimping on "chicks before dicks". You have ignored the cardinal rule of womanhood and spent almost every weekend chasing the peen instead of watching chick flicks and eating cartons of ice cream and giggling about boys. This has to stop.

Everyone goes through the whole "I CAN'T WAIT TO BE AN ADULT BLAH BLAH BLAH LOLZ!!!" stage when they're in high school, but you're growing up way too fast and missing out on the best parts. I know it's going to be ridiculously hard to get away from the drinking and smoking and men (oh my!) that you've become so fond of since July, but you have to.

Fuck.

Less excited about this the more I think about it,
-c

but also...

Dear Homecoming This Saturday,

I have a date for you as of today and he looks like Rupert Grint. Fucking adorable.

canNOT wait,
-c