Dear Old Self

Photo by Amy Ginsberg

Dear older, more mature self,

Here’s the article you wrote for a college website years ago. You thought it might be a good way to get some attention (hopefully you haven’t changed and you’re still the center of attention everywhere you go).

I hope you’re still living the life. Read this and be proud – you were one kick ass girl. You may have screwed up a lot, but life goes on. Pat yourself on the back if when you read this you made it to be a real adult. You’re grown up now. Weird.

I hope you’re still bouncing around, with any luck not at dive bars but at classy black tie parties and you’re still in the game. Lord knows I’m sure you fell through the flippers once or twice, but knowing you, you got back up and were out hitting the ‘points when lit’, bonus buttons the next night. Always remember that life goes on, there’s always another try at everything. Another ball is waiting when the first falls through: It may come with a price, but anything worth having does.

Remember I love you, and always have. You’re a bombshell, never forget it.

Go Getter

Posted by thatgirl from Ithaca College.

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I won’t lie, one of my favorite things to do when I wake up on a Saturday morning is walk across the hall to my roommate’s room and discuss the night before, after a Diet Coke and four aspirin, of course.

Don’t shake your head, you know you still love to call your friends and recap your weekends. I hope the sugar substitute in Diet Coke doesn’t actually cause cancer, because if it does you’re screwed.

It’s a fun game to recap the night, laugh at the dumb stuff I did, and pick on the people who were stumbling around the bar worse than me.  My mom wouldn’t be proud of this, but it’s college right? Mistakes will be made: As long as they aren’t life altering, we’re all set. That’s what I tell myself. It’s my time to do whatever the hell I want and just be me.

I’m sure mom is more proud of you now. Not that she wasn’t before, but hopefully you’ve put her tuition dollars to something better than seven dollar pitchers at Trivia Tuesdays.

Someone once told me, “work hard and party harder.” I think I accomplished that through my three and a half years at college so far and I still have the last semester to make epic memories. Let’s hope the tables I dance on are just as strong as the shots I take.

Coming to school I made a bucket list of all the things that I wanted to do. I lost that list. No surprise. I think it had “make dean’s list,” “get a good job,” “don’t become the sloppy girls you hated in high school” and “find a boyfriend or husband” on it.

What a sorry list.

That really was a sorry list.

With that list done and gone, I started making a new list. A list my dad at age 22 would have high-fived me for and would now gouge his ears out if he heard.

You are so lucky dad didn’t follow through with his threats and send you to an all girls’ school!

In the past month life has become more interesting as I’ve started adding things to my bucket list – after they happened. I’m not even sure I wanted to do them, but it’s always a story so I write it down and cross it off. (I think this is why I always lose at Never Have I Ever.)

It’s a list that’s growing. Hopefully once I graduate every word will have a line through it. All the stupid shit I did in college. (And will be paying off for the next 30 years of my life.) I better make it worth it. I WILL make it worth it.

How are those college loans? Pay them off yet? Are you still cooking mac and cheese for dinner? Or did you find a rich guy to take you out every night for dinner? I hope the latter.

Just picture it. My nights are like a pinball game. I storm into the bar, bounce around off everyone, dancing, flirting, kissing, spilling my drinks, trying not to fall through the flippers, keeping myself in the game until the lights in the bar go on. Getting points for everything I can cross of my list.

I bet you’re wishing you could still get this drunk and bounce back like you could before. You always have had a liking for Bloody Mary’s…

I can’t say my choices have come without repercussions: heartbreak, vomit, bruises, headaches, crying phone calls, loss of friends, walk of shames, rumors, and overdraft charges.

You learned your lessons, always the hard way, but I bet that made you a rock in life. I hope you’re still a rock but holding your alcohol much better.

Some days I wonder if all that bouncing around, isn’t denting my body. I know it’s had its toll on my heart, but I get up, brush my shoulders off, take a shot, and turn my music up loud, and dance around the apartment.

Isn’t that what living life is all about? No regrets. Just lessons learned.

I heard if you dent a beer pong ball you can pop it back out again by putting a flame under it. I live life by this philosophy. I keep that fire lit under my ass, so I always keep going hard.

I hope you still do live life this way. Never ever take yourself too seriously. Know that you lived your life – you did exactly what you wanted to, you took risks, you made mistakes but you learned something from every action you took. Keep that fire under your ass. You only have this life to live, so get out there hot stuff and go hard or go home.

Written by Lindsey Hadlock. Photo by Amy Ginsberg.