something nutritious right now. But choices are what define us and, in truth, TV is going to be important. So get another bag of dimmies.
I think itâs great that youâve enrolled in your dream university course to finally chase your goal of becoming an advertising copywriter. It took a lot of effort and you were right to celebrate it with 14,000 bottles of lambrusco and all your naughty friends. Remember to recycle those bottles as candle holders, by the way. Youâll need them in a few years when you host share-house board-game nights attended by friends and four families of mice.
About uni, I should bring to your attention that you will need to actually attend some tutorials, and by this I donât mean sitting in a city cafe, smoking with your hairy mate Nick Swifte, drinking coffee and plotting whose notes youâll scam. Also, when the other people in your course see you in a lecture and exclaim, âWhat?! Chrissieâs here? There must be a test!â this is not a compliment.
Letâs go now to the beauty department. Youâre all right. No real problems ⦠but that matte lipstick makes you look like you sleep in a coffin. It also comes off in sheets on those coffee cups youâre so fond of studying during âtutorialsâ. Give it up. And wax your upper lip. Do it now and you will avoid an embarrassing intervention in a few years from your gay housemate.
Your boyfriend is a great fellow, and when you finally break up with him after seven years you will think it was a waste of time because it didnât end in a ring and babies. Donât. That relationship was a lovely safe house through your whole twenties and meant you avoided most of the types of men youâll meet in your thirties. And anyway, if you had married that guy and had kids you wouldnât have the man and little boys you have now and they are awesome and worth waiting for.
Finally, you are terrible with money right now and are focused on fun over almost anything else. Accept it. You are not going to change. You are in big trouble from your mum right now for buying that apple-green vase for $95. True, this amount represents a weekâs rent and half a monthâs payment plan on the parking fine debt youâve accrued for leaving your Daihatsu Charade wherever the hell you like for however long you want.
Tell your mum to back off. That vase will bring you joy your whole life and give you a thrill every time you look at it because it represents that you had faith that one day youâd be able to afford a few beautiful things and have a lovely house with gorgeous people in it that you made.
And so it will be.
Warmest regards,
Chrissie (at one week from thirty-nine years old)
PS I mean it about the moustache. And for Godâs sake donât bleach it. Just because itâs orange doesnât mean itâs invisible.
Â
28th October 2012
Naughty schoolgirl
I was recently contacted by my old high school and I was delighted. For many people, their school years were fraught with a combo of not fitting in, bullying and bad papier-mâché puppets. Iâm pleased to say only the latter applied to me. I went to a small private Catholic girlsâ school, which is a sentence that usually ends in âand I couldnât wait to escapeâ or âand they were the worst years of my lifeâ, but I loved school.
I was one of those kids who couldnât wait for school holidays to be over, and I got so worked up the day before we went back I usually had instant-onset insomnia. One time I was so excited that I found myself having a shower at three in the morning so I wouldnât miss my 7.20am tram.
So the phone call from the school alerting me to the fact Iâd been nominated as an âalumni of noteâ was met with excitement and internal clapping, not horror and avoidance.
Part of this honour was that I would be featured in a coffee-table book showcasing the 125 years
I think itâs great that youâve enrolled in your dream university course to finally chase your goal of becoming an advertising copywriter. It took a lot of effort and you were right to celebrate it with 14,000 bottles of lambrusco and all your naughty friends. Remember to recycle those bottles as candle holders, by the way. Youâll need them in a few years when you host share-house board-game nights attended by friends and four families of mice.
About uni, I should bring to your attention that you will need to actually attend some tutorials, and by this I donât mean sitting in a city cafe, smoking with your hairy mate Nick Swifte, drinking coffee and plotting whose notes youâll scam. Also, when the other people in your course see you in a lecture and exclaim, âWhat?! Chrissieâs here? There must be a test!â this is not a compliment.
Letâs go now to the beauty department. Youâre all right. No real problems ⦠but that matte lipstick makes you look like you sleep in a coffin. It also comes off in sheets on those coffee cups youâre so fond of studying during âtutorialsâ. Give it up. And wax your upper lip. Do it now and you will avoid an embarrassing intervention in a few years from your gay housemate.
Your boyfriend is a great fellow, and when you finally break up with him after seven years you will think it was a waste of time because it didnât end in a ring and babies. Donât. That relationship was a lovely safe house through your whole twenties and meant you avoided most of the types of men youâll meet in your thirties. And anyway, if you had married that guy and had kids you wouldnât have the man and little boys you have now and they are awesome and worth waiting for.
Finally, you are terrible with money right now and are focused on fun over almost anything else. Accept it. You are not going to change. You are in big trouble from your mum right now for buying that apple-green vase for $95. True, this amount represents a weekâs rent and half a monthâs payment plan on the parking fine debt youâve accrued for leaving your Daihatsu Charade wherever the hell you like for however long you want.
Tell your mum to back off. That vase will bring you joy your whole life and give you a thrill every time you look at it because it represents that you had faith that one day youâd be able to afford a few beautiful things and have a lovely house with gorgeous people in it that you made.
And so it will be.
Warmest regards,
Chrissie (at one week from thirty-nine years old)
PS I mean it about the moustache. And for Godâs sake donât bleach it. Just because itâs orange doesnât mean itâs invisible.
Â
28th October 2012
Naughty schoolgirl
I was recently contacted by my old high school and I was delighted. For many people, their school years were fraught with a combo of not fitting in, bullying and bad papier-mâché puppets. Iâm pleased to say only the latter applied to me. I went to a small private Catholic girlsâ school, which is a sentence that usually ends in âand I couldnât wait to escapeâ or âand they were the worst years of my lifeâ, but I loved school.
I was one of those kids who couldnât wait for school holidays to be over, and I got so worked up the day before we went back I usually had instant-onset insomnia. One time I was so excited that I found myself having a shower at three in the morning so I wouldnât miss my 7.20am tram.
So the phone call from the school alerting me to the fact Iâd been nominated as an âalumni of noteâ was met with excitement and internal clapping, not horror and avoidance.
Part of this honour was that I would be featured in a coffee-table book showcasing the 125 years
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