Emma Philbrook: STUDENT LIFE

I’m an avid Dear Abby reader, and I’ve always thought that I’d be good at writing something like that. The only problem seems to be that nobody wants my advice.

So I’ve decided to write down everything that’s been on my mind this week, put it in a safe, unlock the safe as soon as time travel is possible, answer my own questions, and send them back to today.

Here are the results of this experiment:

Dear future self: I’m in the process of writing a novel. I’m almost to the exciting part, but I can’t motivate myself to keep writing. Can you help?

Dear former self: Is this Addy Landon versus the Sycophantic Cyborgs from Sirius? If so, stop work on it immediately. Delete the file, then delete it from the “deleted files” folder – because if you care at all about your characters, you will act now to save your masterpiece from ever being made into a movie. (They put Gladys in a crop top! A CROP TOP!)

Dear future self: I just got assigned my roommate, and the assignment e-mail showed her address, which was in an area I wasn’t familiar with. I was curious, so I looked it up on Google Earth. Now I feel kinda creepy. Am I creepy?

Dear former self: Not at all. In fact, she’s probably got 340 West 7th in her sights as we speak. Say cheese!

Dear future self: I just got my first phone, which is a flip phone. I like it, but I’m afraid people will make fun of me for it. What course of action would you suggest?

Dear former self: Keep it. Believe me, it will come in handy during the Great Hack-Tastrophe of 2029, and nobody will ever steal it.

Dear future self: Who’s going to win the 2016 presidential election?

Dear former self: A group of desperate students, including yourself, will travel to Washington, DC, and infiltrate the White House. You will then sneak into the Lincoln Bedroom and perform an ancient ritual which will trap Lincoln’s ghost, which still haunts the bedroom, inside a ‘70s-era piggy bank shaped like Lincoln’s head. The piggy bank will then win the election – because, surprisingly, there are no provisions in the Constitution barring dead people from running for office.

Dear future self: All right, how about the next Kentucky Derby?

Dear former self: Look here, toots. I get that college is expensive, and I’m not happy about my student loan debt either, but I don’t feel ethically comfortable helping you out on this one. *cough, Peony Dreams, cough*.

Dear future self: What comforter set should I get for my dorm?

Dear former self: Well, what did you think Peony Dreams was, a horse?

Dear future self: I have no purpose in life. My days are shapeless globs of boring chores and lame internet gaming. I’m making lousy progress on all of my projects, and my crossword skills are going downhill. There are never any workshops at Three Divas on the days when I’m in Walla Walla, and we’re all out of decent crackers. What do I have to live for?

Dear former self: Three words, dear – “professional Knowledge Bowl.”Also, “Cleverlys at Wintergrass.” Oh, and “herd of corgis.” And “Monty Python Revival”…