Friday, September 9, 2011

An Open Letter from my 21 year old self


Dear 29 year old Craig:  Dude, you’re 29.  I know you have an amazing job in NYC and are living in one of the greatest cities on the planet, but you need to start acting your age.  You are no longer me. You don’t have classes 3 days a week - starting no earlier than 3pm.  You have a job, where people, most likely respect you. You cannot go out until 5am and expect to feel good the next morning.  It just doesn’t happen.  

Also, while I am sure your hair still looks unbelievably good, you can’t just eat anything you want and expect to be 125 lbs.  Sure, I look like a diseased bird at this weight, but that X-Small stretch t-shirt that is normally fit for a child’s doll, looks awesome on me. Also, you need to start working out buddy.  At some point you are going to have something called Facebook that is going to be suggesting friends to you, and when you click on those “suggested friends”, they are going to be the hottest gay guys you have ever seen who have incredible bodies and will make you feel terrible.  So put down the beer and cheeseburger and get to the gym 4 hours a day like every other gay dude.

And while we are on the subject, can you please stop being obsessed with sports? Here is a little secret: most gays don’t understand sports and will look at you with puzzling glances when you say you are obsessed with football. Sure, they may laugh when you say the word ball (haha, ball), but that doesn’t mean they will understand or like the fact that you aren’t just watching the game to see men in tight clothes.  Oh yea, and those preppy outfits you are obsessed with, scratch those as well.  Gays don’t understand those and will expect you to only wear tank tops.  Buy one in every color. Oh, but don’t wear them unless you see my previous note about going to the gym. Tank tops are unforgiving.

Also, you should probably verse yourself on musicians that no other subset of American society has heard of, like Robyn or Kylie Minogue. They will oddly become staples of gay society and simply liking Christina Aguilera (a goddess of course) will not be enough to pass gay music tests. You will go out to bars and one of their songs will come on, and while everyone else is dancing in their tank tops, you will be standing alone, in your Brooks Brothers polo and seersucker shorts wondering why they aren't playing Rihanna. And oh yea, you will be watching every other person, who, in your opinion is seemingly less attractive but happens to be wearing a tank top, making out.

In conclusion, while I am happy you are making great money working for an awesome company and living in NYC, you need to get your shit together if you want to get laid and or married. 

Love, 21 year old you.

PS – There is this AMAZING thing called Botox that is readily available at this point in your life. Please take advantage of that. While most of your face still looks like a 25 year old, that giant wrinkle on your forehead says otherwise.