Advice for Me in 20 Years

“What would you say to yourself 8 years ago? You know, if you had to give yourself advice.”

Well, I’d begin by telling myself not to go around asking people to crack my knuckles. “It’s a particularly strange habit and you’ll garner a negative reputation,” I’d say.  And then I’d tell myself to get rid of the beaded string hanging around my glasses, which regrettably depicted me as a premature, chicken-legged librarian. “Burn it,” I’d advise. I’d then break a devastating fact to my naïve and utterly simple sixth grade self. “The teachers can see you in the back of the class acting like a psycho,” I’d say with grim sincerity.

You get the picture. The list goes on and on. I’d rather not revisit those days; in fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve already chucked all 3 of my middle school yearbooks into the Pacific. I have high hopes that they’ve journeyed through the digestive tract of an exceptionally vicious great white.

Instead, I’d like to give advice for 39-year-old me. There are lots of things I have to say to future Ashley.  I’ve devised an especially useful list that I’ll surely revisit in 2034—after all, I’m in the smartest stage of my life.

1. Don’t let the kids ruin you.

If you even have kids, that is. You? With kids? Really, really bizarre. We’re talking about the same person who accidentally allowed her rat to stick its face into a lit cinnamon candle (luckily, singed whiskers were the extent of the damage. You can stop dialing ASPCA).

But if you do happen to have kids (there’s no stopping you, I guess—or maybe there is. That part’s a little confusing), I advise you not to let them ruin your life. I.e., try to stick with the stuff you love. Reading. Writing. Acting like a sophisticated maniac. Point being, don’t be one of those moms who looks tired 24/7; keep the pep in your step. And if all else fails, pack up the kids and move to the Virgin Islands because at least you’ll have the sun to keep you kind of happy.

2. It’s okay to still eat SpaghettiOs.

Don’t feel bad about yourself if you still haven’t cooked anything beyond Ramen, or if you still don’t really understand the meaning of “sauté.”

Keep in mind that you can whip up a mean turkey and cheese sandwich. You know how to cut (certain) vegetables. You can slice a bagel in half with no issue at all. Most importantly, you understand how to work a can-opener. So don’t worry about the rest; it’s just fluff.

3. Getting a dog or a buffalo might not be a bad idea.

Human companions are awesome and stuff, but animals don’t talk, and that’s really what’s so great about them. Investing in a pet that you can walk around the block is a splendid idea.

You'll get the privilege of naming it, feeding it, and petting it. In return, you'll receive unconditional devotion. It’s a rather fair trade. Plus, if you feel aggravated at everybody for no apparent reason, you can walk Rufus around the block and by the time you return you’ll feel calm again. It’ll be wonderful, free therapy (the only real price is vet bills, which you can afford because by this time you’ll have your college degree. And if you can’t afford it then move back in with Mom and Dad. Or go feed yourself to piranhas).

4. You can still go places even though you’re old.

Venezuela. Australia. Hungary. Thailand. Hell, you can even go to Canada if you’re desperate enough.

Whatever you do, don’t start believing that you’re swamped down by too much sh*t to travel. It’s an epidemic that has run rampant in Generation X. “I don’t have time for it” is the single lamest excuse in the solar system. There’s plenty of time, but eventually there won’t be. So go to Bangladesh and demonstrate your awesomeness before you get arthritis.

The most important thing for you to remember is that you can be fabulous and 39 at the same time. It’s incredibly difficult, but it’s certainly achievable with hard work and dedication. Don’t let me down—I’m counting on you.