Dear Mel,
That’s right; I jumped right in with ‘Mel.’ Get over hating the nickname, because, let’s face it: those last two syllables are endless. Fifteen years from now, not even you will want to expend the energy to introduce yourself as Melanie (life is short, after all).
Soon enough, you will discover that everyone hates the asshole who insists on Melanie instead of Mel, or Nicholas instead of Nick. Those two are pretentious know-it-alls who deserve each other. As a side note, don’t ever date anyone named Nicholas, because everybody hates that asshole.
Deal with the nickname; it’s cute, which I know is an attribute you’re already trying to avoid at age 8, but also, shut up. Being cute will not always be a bad thing; I promise. ‘Mel’ is endearing. It means people want to be on your level, and though humanity, as a whole, will generally be beneath you for the rest of your life, accept this gift of admiration and move on.
While we’re on the subject of moving on, stop obsessing over the fact that you couldn’t spell ‘protein’ in the third grade spelling bee. Shit happens. You slipped. Half this country can’t even speak correct English, much less remember all that ‘I’ after ‘E’ nonsense. Don’t beat yourself up.
Disclaimer: This will be impossible.
You will continue to be haunted by protein. You never forget how to spell it, don’t worry, but you’ll think about that amplified “I’m sorry; that’s incorrect” every time you hear it for the next fifteen years (and probably longer, but I’ve yet to receive the letter from 40 year old us). Unfortunately, you’ll go through an ill-advised phase of being vegetarian, which deems use of the word protein crucial for a number of years. Since your vegetable tastes are fairly limited, and will continue to be until high school, I would caution against trying to be a vegetarian. It will lead to a protein (there it is again) deficiency, borderline anemia, and endless mockery by your father for being “a vegetarian who doesn’t eat vegetables.”
Therapy has yet to tackle these issues, as of 3/25/2014 (but again, I haven’t received a letter from 40 year old Mel, whom, I’m sure, has reverted back to insisting on Melanie. What a pretentious asshole).
In conclusion, sorry.
Love,
Mel
P.S. Upon graduating college, you’ll receive a similar letter to this one, though that one will be from 18 year old us to 21 year old us. Don’t listen to either of them; they’re both idiots. 18 year old us still believes the world to revolve around ballet and her hair, and 21 year old us believes the world to revolve around Nicholas and her hair.
P.P.S. 23 year old us knows the world to revolve around her hair.
P.P.P.S. I’ve just received the letter from 40 year old us. She says I’m an idiot, but she’s old; what does she know?
