(no subject)
MY AUNT HAS A MYSPACE.
Also, last year, I sent myself an email from FutureMe.org. I completely forgot about it and almost deleted it when I received it today, but for some reason I opened it. It was a nice surprise. It's really weird to see where I was exactly a year ago and what I was thinking and what my ambitions were.
(this message was composed on Wed, Jan 12, 2005)
Dear Allison,
This is an email from the past. Amazing, eh? I'm writing this at 9:43pm on Jan
12, 2005. Right now, I am a freshman in my 2nd semester at USC. I love class
right now. There is only one boy who I want to date (Sebastian), and he's not
ready for a relationship. I'm really not ready, either, though I wish I were,
and I wish he were because he's one of the few boys I've met so far who is
absolutely wonderful in almost every way. He really is lovely. I'm afraid I will
be single forever. I want to take this time to concentrate on schoolwork,
though. I'm wishing and hoping for a 4.0 this semester. I hope that you've grown
up a lot since now. I hope that you're happy. If you're single, remember that
you don't need a boy to have a good time. If you're not single, I hope that
you're in love with whoever you're with. If you're chasing after some boy, which
you probably are, stop. Really. Don't put yourself out there too much. I hope
you've learned that already. I wish I could predict the future so I would know
your current situation. It doesn't matter anyway, because I don't think there's
anything that I can teach the future me. I think that might be impossible. Right
now, I'm hoping to be either a music journalist or a columnist for Cosmo or a
similar magazine. Today, I thought about minoring in English. I'm definitely not
sure. I need to decide by the end of this semester, so obviously, you've decided
your minor. I can't wait to see what it is! Allison, I love you. I know it may
not seem like I do, since I fill your body with animal fat and I never exercise.
But, really, you're pretty. And you do have a lot going for you. I hope you
realize that.
Love,
Allison
Also, last year, I sent myself an email from FutureMe.org. I completely forgot about it and almost deleted it when I received it today, but for some reason I opened it. It was a nice surprise. It's really weird to see where I was exactly a year ago and what I was thinking and what my ambitions were.
(this message was composed on Wed, Jan 12, 2005)
Dear Allison,
This is an email from the past. Amazing, eh? I'm writing this at 9:43pm on Jan
12, 2005. Right now, I am a freshman in my 2nd semester at USC. I love class
right now. There is only one boy who I want to date (Sebastian), and he's not
ready for a relationship. I'm really not ready, either, though I wish I were,
and I wish he were because he's one of the few boys I've met so far who is
absolutely wonderful in almost every way. He really is lovely. I'm afraid I will
be single forever. I want to take this time to concentrate on schoolwork,
though. I'm wishing and hoping for a 4.0 this semester. I hope that you've grown
up a lot since now. I hope that you're happy. If you're single, remember that
you don't need a boy to have a good time. If you're not single, I hope that
you're in love with whoever you're with. If you're chasing after some boy, which
you probably are, stop. Really. Don't put yourself out there too much. I hope
you've learned that already. I wish I could predict the future so I would know
your current situation. It doesn't matter anyway, because I don't think there's
anything that I can teach the future me. I think that might be impossible. Right
now, I'm hoping to be either a music journalist or a columnist for Cosmo or a
similar magazine. Today, I thought about minoring in English. I'm definitely not
sure. I need to decide by the end of this semester, so obviously, you've decided
your minor. I can't wait to see what it is! Allison, I love you. I know it may
not seem like I do, since I fill your body with animal fat and I never exercise.
But, really, you're pretty. And you do have a lot going for you. I hope you
realize that.
Love,
Allison