Have you guys ever heard of FutureMe? I don't remember where I ran across it in my journeys through the interweb, but I discovered it a few years ago and it's one of the best things the internet has ever given me. (Other best things: The Collective, you all, Joe, etc.)
I write my future self a letter on every birthday, to be delivered the next year. And I always forget that I've done this. Even though I've been doing it for at least three years now. It's seriously the best present ever, especially for someone who was so intrigued by time capsules as a kid. So, my birthday comes along, I get a letter from the year before, and then I write a new one. I also include the previous year's letter in the new letter, so it's like a time capsule within a time capsule and HOLY HELL is that ever magical.
I'm writing this post on September 10th, to be posted on the 23rd. I'm writing it so early not because I'm one of those annoying do-things-early-go-getters, OH NO. In fact, I am quite the opposite. But on September 23rd I will be on my honeymoon, after marrying my best friend five days prior. DID I JUST BLOW YOUR MIND? It's getting all time-bendy up in here! It's like Back to the Future! Or a really confusing episode of Lost! I'd call Faraday, but he'd probably just want to blow up a hydrogen bomb and last time that happened, Juliet died, so FUCK THAT.
Ahem. Anyway. My point is, I am basically writing to my future self right now, even if my future self is only two weeks older than my present self. So.
Dear Future Jennie,
Right now you are probably sitting in the sun, enjoying a cocktail (or two or three or four), talking to your new husband. Husband? You? Really? I hope you realize just how far you've come in the past five or so years. You used to be a non-feeling, robot-y commitment-phobe who swore she'd never get married, who complained about having to attend weddings, who never once got teary-eyed at the ceremonies, and who only made it through the receptions because of a little something called an open bar.
I hope you enjoyed your wedding. And I hope you remembered to thank everyone who needed thanking (read: everyone) and took some time to realize how special it was that all of your dearest people were in the same place all at once. I hope you and Joe had at least a moment or two away from the craziness of the day, to slooooow things down and let the fact that YOU'RE MARRIED sink in. I hope you were patient with everyone. I know you have the tendency to brush off excitement or, in other words, to be a cynical asshole, but I hope you reeled that in just for that one day. I hope you laughed a lot and remembered to eat. I hope everyone had fun with the fake mustaches. I hope you got to play Twister at the reception and that someone got a picture of it.
Most of all, I hope you took the time to thank your lucky stars. For finding someone you love with your whole self and who loves you just the same, even when you are at your most annoying, like when you sing the same line of one song for twenty minutes straight, or when you leave your shoes all over the house, or when you crack yourself up saying "poop" and "butt" in various combinations OVER AND OVER. You lucky, lucky bitch.