Adapted from the words of the great philosopher Fergie, in this post, I am so 2008, and the rest of you are so two-thousand-and-late.
There are very few opportunities to make that joke. Please forgive me.
So, here we are. In case you haven’t been following my blog posts, I’ll break it down for you: for the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing letters that I wrote to myself in junior high and high school, one for each year, with whoever wants to read. I’m also providing comments and photos for, you know, context.
This is Week Two, which means we’ve moved on to eighth grade in 2008. Hence the terrible joke. Again, I’m so sorry.
2008 Meredith isn’t so different from 2007 Meredith. She’s learned how to pluck her eyebrows, but not about the happy medium between one eyebrow and no eyebrows. She likes playing Pixie Hollow with a friend, and then calling that friend on the phone when they’re both online instead of using the chat function. She still isn’t allowed on Facebook.
In terms of handwriting, this letter isn’t nearly as obnoxious as the first one. It’s simple printing with a cheap black pen, pretty close to the way I print now. Looks like I was having trouble keeping my words straight, though; there are a lot of spots where I’ve crossed things out.
And so it begins.
Promising so far.
WHY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Why did I decide this was a decent way to start a letter? Did I think future me was stuck in a John Wayne movie? Will I be calling people “pilgrim” next?
Right now it is about 2 weeks ’til I turn 14. I’m pretty good right now, and I hope you are, too, Meredith of 2013!
Been there, done that, sweetie. You’re talking to Meredith of 2017 now. And you sound like a cowboy.
My favorite color is green.
My favorite movie is the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
No longer true. I have no real explanation for this strange choice of favorite movie. Apparently, listing our favorite things was one of the suggestions for this assignment, and this was the best I could come up with. For the record, my favorite movie is The Wizard of Oz.
As for favorite books, well, you know how hard it is for me to choose.
What do I hate?
Oh, joy. Another list.
Spiders, of course. Those creepy legs, the pincers filled with poison, yuck!
Oh, gross. Oh, I still hate spiders. Why did I think future me wanted to read this?!
What do I like? Pretty much everything!
Correction: as an adult, I can confirm that I like very little, but I can still tolerate pretty much everything(and everyone).
Right now, I want to be an architect,
Cue maniac laughter at my journalism degree.
but my goals have changed before, so who knows what it’ll be now? Then? The future!
And historians have now dated my first existential crisis to this exact moment.
As for other stuff, just bring it on!
This is probably where 2008 Meredith did some sort of fist-pump.
PS: Eighth grade is pretty cool so far.
And then I ruined it.
Conclusion: Eighth grade Meredith does not know what she’s doing. 2007 Meredith was naive, sure, but she’s got nothing on 2008 Meredith. There’s such a weird paradox in middle school and high school where you want to be different, you want to be real, but you’re stuck trying to fit everyone else’s definition of what’s cool.
I don’t think I ever really got the balance, but this is around the time where I really started to see that in the flesh. It hit me again right after I started college, and it took me a couple of years to get over. It’s okay to want to be liked; it’s another thing to try to switch up your personality to make people like you.
Plus, let me set one thing straight for anyone reading: I was a child. Sometimes, it felt strange to try to relate to other people my age because they were in such a hurry to grow up. And I wasn’t. We’ll see that more as the letters progress, but I felt more than comfortable in my childhood ways.
And that’s okay. Like the letter says, I was thirteen. And in a lot of ways, I haven’t changed that much. I still like the same things then that I like now, like Star Wars and fairies and Power Rangers and Lord of the Rings. And there’s a lot of people like me, who like those things, and don’t feel ashamed of it anymore, because we found each other, too.
So hold on, 2008 Meredith. You won’t be a cowboy-speaking freak too much longer. You’ll find your place eventually.
Just keep on being really inexplicably weird.