| Good Advice |
| Yes, everyone needs good advice at one point or another. After listening to Baz Luhrman's Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen), what can I say, I felt somewhat inspired. So, here is the d'ebut of the advice in the song, as well as some other tidbits I've found along the way. Enjoy! Buy the CD! |
 |
Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proven by scientists. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh nevermind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they fade it. But trust me, in twenty years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. Don't worry about the future, or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind. The kind that blindsides you at four pm on some idle Tuesday. Do one thing everyday that scares you. Sing. Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. Floss. Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead. Sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you've recieved. Forget the insults. And if you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at twenty-two what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting fourty-year-olds I know still don't. Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees; you'll miss them when they're gone. Maybe you'll marry. Maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children. Maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at fourty. Maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your seventy-fifth wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. |
 |
 |
| Home, James! |