Extracts from my Teenage Diary 

Hello darlings!

Lately, I was cleaning out our attic space (which was so messy I’m surprised I didn’t come across a family of raccoons living in there) and I found a couple of diaries I had kept during my teenage years. My initial reaction was delight; I had completely forgotten about them. After reading only a few pages of the diaries, however, my delight was quickly replaced by a sense of MORTIFICATION. Sweet Simon Cowell on a bike, they are cringe-inducing. 

Because I love you all and want to make you cringe as much as I did, I am going to share with you some excepts from some of the worst entries I found. Welp.

13/3/00

Dear diary, 

It’s hard to believe I’ll be finishing primary school soon! I’m kinda sad about it and scared to start secondary school. I know K**** will be going to the convent with me so I don’t feel too bad. I’ll miss my other friends so much though. It will be weird going to an all-girls school. And I have to wear a UNIFORM. It looks like a kilt, I HATE IT. 

I was fighting with my sister yesterday because she said I took her purple top but I actually didn’t because I don’t even like it. Anyway, where would I wear it? I was on the roof of the school with the lads which I’m not supposed to do but I did it once. J**** had to help me up because I can’t climb like the rest of them. Sometimes I don’t want to do those things because they get us in trouble but they are fun. I can’t wait for the summer. I got new sandals and a top from Extrovert. I cut my hair too but it’s a little short. I look like a fella. Mam tried to convince me that it’s all the rage at the moment but I can barely tie it up and it’s all bushy. I got butterfly clips for it and they are soooo pretty. 

Me, J***** and F******** went for a walk the other day but we got lazy so had a big water fight instead. 


Okay, so that entry was petty innocuous but it sets the tone for my ridiculous lack of concentration and coherency. I was only twelve here, bless my cotton socks. I’ll skip forward a bit.

4/12/01 

Aargh! Christmas exams soon. I feel fine about English and history and maybe Irish but the rest are so hard. My business teacher is so scary. I feel like I can’t even look at her and she gets angry. She randomly put on a Shakira song the other day and we thought it was a trick so we all just sat there, staring at each other. I like science but A**** makes me laugh all the time and I can’t concentrate. I’m not even going to talk to you about maths. Some of our teachers are already talking about the junior cert and I’m just not listening. It’s a year and a half away for f**k’s sake. Take a chill pill.

My family are driving me crazy. My sister has a boyfriend…think I told you about him?? My brother is away and my parents are just sooooo annoying right now. If I didn’t have the pets, I would probs run away and be a hippie. 

P****** asked me out again. I don’t really like him but all my friends think I should say yeah to him. I don’t know….

Oh, R**** came over and stayed the night the other day! We just messed around the village with the lads. R**** got freaked out by the peacock. 

Me, F******** and J***** have just been playing PlayStation all the time because the weather is so sh**. I wish I had more news, but things are so boring right now. I’ve just been listening to BSB and I put up some new posters. 


Okay, so this one is a little more action packed. You can see my love for English and history goes back a long way. I didn’t know then that I would be teaching it myself one day. That business teacher was indeed a tyrant and I’m still frightened of her. Maths was never my strong suit. Ooh, I swore. So much sass here! 

That P guy was my first boyfriend. And BSB is…you guessed it…Backstreet Boys. BSB TILL I DIE. Oh, and I never did become a hippie. 

Also, bonus cringe points for the out-of-nowhere peacock reference. 

11/10/03 

Dear diary, 

I know it has been forever. Things have just been so crazy, I don’t even know where to start. So I did the Junior Cert and weirdly, I got on really well. I got 4 As and 6 Bs…I even got a B in maths…pass maths, but maths…and an A in music…like wtf?! And English, history and CSPE (but everyone gets an A in that so…) Fifth Year is actually great so far. I feel a lot more mature even though I still play games with my friends haha. 

The biggest thing that has happened is that I met someone and….well I’m in love. I know, I know, it’s sudden. But I love him. His name is J and we talk all the time. I met him in January but we didn’t start going out until May. And I love him. It was really sudden, but I just know. He is so lovely and he treats me so well. We have so much in common. The only problem is that he lives in Dublin and I don’t see him much. We talk every single day on the phone and we text all day long. He’s like my best friend. 

I haven’t seen F******** in ages and I miss her! R***** comes up to me every evening after school for a chat. I love my friends. I’m lucky to have them and J… I’m even getting on a little better with the family. 

HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN?! My sister is PREGNANT! I’m so excited to be an auntie. I don’t feel old enough to be one but I’m sure it just involves having sweets on you all the time, right? Haha. 


This is my first entry where I reference J, my ex boyfriend! Did I mention I love him enough?! My sister now has three wonderful kids and her daughter was born that December and is now….almost 14 OMG. Being an aunt definitely imvolves more than carrying sweets around with me, but it definitely helps! 

So I was no Anne Frank. What about you? Did you keep a diary in your youth or do you keep one now? Confess in the comments! 

Neknomination: Immature, pointless and senseless

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There is a craze currently sweeping social media in Ireland at the moment; a craze so pointless and immature that it’s paining me to write about it, but I feel it’s necessary. This craze is called Neknomination.

Neknomination began in Australia, but found its way to our shores through the sharing on social media of the many Irish emigrants over there with their friends back home. It involves the recording of oneself “necking” (which basically means drinking something as quickly as possible) a pint (and sometimes more) of something alcoholic. You then upload the recording to Facebook, where you nominate two more people who then must complete the challenge within twenty four hours. Finally, you bask in your own adultivity and spontaneity and await all the invitations to cool parties, cause everyone knows what a crazy b**tard you are.

You might think that this actually sounds like it might just be harmless fun. We’ve all had those nights out where we’ve invariably joined in a group of rowdy spectators chanting “chug” to some inebriated beer-bellied good-time guy at a random college house party. You might think I’m being the idiomatic “wet blanket”. If someone chooses to partake in this fad, can’t I just ignore it? What harm does it do me personally? The thing is, it’s not as simply dismissed as that. There have been two reported deaths in Ireland because of this craze. People are feeling the need to “one-up” each other, by chugging things like full bottles of Jaggermesiter and (gag alert) their own faeces.

It has flooded my newsfeed like some kind of medieval plague. It is everywhere. I haven’t actually watched many of them (except the first few due to my unbridled curiosity). When something becomes this much of a trend (remember planking? *collective shudder*), it inevitably finds itself being practiced by many different strands of society: old, young, male, female, etc. And what group of people becomes most sensitive and susceptible to fads and trends than teenagers?

Let’s face it, being a teenager is hard. Yes, you have a small group who like to deviate away from the trend-setters but the majority of teenagers like to follow the crowd. Understandably, they want to fit in. They want to be seen as cool, fun and “with-it” (aside: why am I sounding increasingly more and more like my grandmother?). If you add the pressures of social media to the mix, being a teenager becomes a minefield of peer pressure and bad decisions.

I was a teenager once (yes, really) and I have to say: I was an idiot. Again, I want to reiterate that I’m not saying all teenagers are idiots. I chose to teach them because I know how articulate, wise and perceptive they can be. What I’m saying is, teenagers can often make idiotic decisions (just like adults); I know I did. This Neknomination ridiculousness is exactly the sort of crap I would have done as a teen. Last year, I heard of the incredibly silly fad of “gallon-smashing” (going into a supermarket, smashing gallons of milk and skidding down a supermarket aisle on it…yep, it is that stupid). While I don’t condone this pointless prank, I do concede that it isn’t too far off the sort of silliness I partook in back in the day. And that’s my point, if there’s a silly fad about, many teenagers are usually lining up to take part in it regardless of the consequences.

So if I was equally as irresponsible, what’s my problem with neknomination? What does it matter to me whether teens (or anyone) decide to record themselves necking pints on Facebook? My problem is that first of all, Facebook didn’t exist in my day. I might have done some stupid stuff, but at least there’s no record of it. It didn’t have the potential to go viral and be viewed by millions of people. People, not just teenagers, are putting themselves in very vulnerable positions. Of course, adults are well aware of this and are old enough to decide for themselves if they want videos of them chugging drinks on the Internet, and that’s their business (and it hasn’t changed my opinion of my friends, it’s the fad itself I have the issue with). Many teenagers, on the other hand, are not old enough or mature enough to make wise, informed decisions. We all have regrets from our teenage years but because of the absence of social media, we don’t have to live with them for too long.

Besides the fact that neknominations are a dangerous fad, they are also pointless. What’s the attraction to recording yourself downing a pint of spirits/beer/wine and sharing it online? What good can come of it? Where’s the fun in it? Surely we take part in things like this because something productive or at least fun can come out of it. This is just silly, immature and pointless. The common counter-argument from alcohol chugging participants is that detractors like me are “buzz killers” or “kill-joys”. Erm, no. I can have fun, but to me uploading a video of myself partaking in some frat-party douchery to impress strangers over the Internet is hardly my idea of it. I’m not trying to sound sanctimonious (trust me, I’m hardly one to pontificate) but senseless rubbish like this irritates me. I actually started writing this a few days ago, before the reported deaths, and I had said “someone, somewhere is going to die as a result of this. I say that without any sense of melodrama or hyperbole.” Unfortunately, it looks like I was right.

If the reports are true, and two people here in Ireland have died as a result of this ridiculous craze, then that should say it all. I’m not saying we need to go overboard (ala the satirical episode with the bear patrol in the Simpsons) and become melodramatic about the situation. It’s not bird flu or Justin Bieber, it hasn’t caused widespread damage. What I would ask the young people who feel obliged to partake in it is to think: would you like to see the video in ten years? Would you like others to see it in ten years? At best, you’ll look stupid, at worst, you’ll hurt yourself. Trust me, it’s about as productive as attempting to teach a Kardashian lessons in subtlety (I’m using analogies that the kids will understand).

Every so often, fads like this come along. And like The Macarena and the Cha-Cha Slide, they’ll disappear (except those were fun, damn it). The difference is, this one is potentially dangerous, immature and pointless. Put down that pint of vodka and (seriously, what were you THINKING?) and go be SENSIBLE.

Your Twenties: Expectations Vs Reality

Remember those final days of your late teenage years, where you excitedly anticipated your coming twenties like a child anticipates Disney Land? And like Disney Land, you envisioned your twenties to be full of roller coaster rides, pretty dresses and people vomiting (from all the awesome parties you’re going to attend, obviously). Except, like Disney Land, your twenties rarely turns out just like you had planned.

So here it is: Your Twenties- Expectations vs Reality

Expectation:

You’re going to join your close circle of friends every day for grown up lattes/wine and engage in witty repartee (preferably in an uber-pretentious East Village style cafe)

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Reality:

Erm, you know those job things? Yeah, you’ll actually have to get one. Which means there’ll be no day time mocha-sessions and by night, you’ll look like this:

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(Except that you’re a human, duh)

Expectation:

You’re going to live in a swanky apartment with your best friends/gay roommate and engage in all sort of misadventures. There may even be a laugh track to accompany your every move.

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Reality:

Erm, you know that little thing called “rent”? Well, turns out it’s expensive. This is more likely where you’ll wind up:

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Expectation:

By your mid to late twenties, you’re going to be the CEO of your very own business. Doing what? Doesn’t matter! CEO B**CHES!!

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Reality:

Calm down there, Branson. This isn’t The Apprentice. Sure, you might be the CEO…of the stamp licking department.

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Expectation:

You’re going to go travelling and meet so many interesting people…

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and they’ll make a film called ‘The Beach’ based on your adventures
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Reality:

Traveling costs money. Which you don’t have. Cause you’re poor. Sorry.

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Expectation:

You’ll finally be a grown-up; independent of your parents and ready to take on the world all by yourself.

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Reality:

To your parents, you will always be a kid. Especially when you call them to tell them there’s a spider in your bath.

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Expectation:

You won’t make any mistakes in your twenties because you’ll be so mature.
Possibly you

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Reality:

…but more than likely, you’ll still be doing this:

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Expectation:

You’ll get married.

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Reality:
…you didn’t let me finish: TO YOUR HOARD OF CATS

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A LETTER TO MY FIFTEEN YEAR OLD SELF

Hey fifteen year old Jane,

It’s twenty six year old Jane. There’s probably lots of things you’d like to know, like which Backstreet Boy you’re gonna marry or how the career of that cute girl from ‘The Parent Trap’ is going. It’s bad news on both counts. Don’t sweat though, I’m not writing this from the maximum security wing of some futuristic women’s prison. That’s all I’ll say about where I am, I remember how much you like surprises.

So you know the way you’re the bane of your teachers’ existence with your constant chatter and witticisms?(In your head, anyway.) Well, GUESS WHAT? You are now the recipient of this behaviour; you decide (I think you’ll be around seventeen) that it would be just WONDERFUL to become a teacher. And you know what? It is wonderful. You’ll have a pretty stressful few years in your career (you’ll be thrown in to teaching a maths class and you know how crap you are at maths), but you’ll love it and you’ll even get gifts from your students from time to time (as well as grief, but it’s all part of the job). Remember this one tip: teenagers will work insanely hard for rewards of a chocular variety.

Also, stop messing with your hair. At the moment, it’s a very bright blond and you look RIDICULOUS. I’m sorry, but have some sense woman/girl. You’ll get to eighteen and you’ll realise that being a brunette suits you so much more. And also, the bleach will actually result in some of your hair falling out when you’re seventeen. I’m sorry, ok? You were going through your obsession with The Simple Life and it got out of hand. But right now, I have very long and thick hair (I don’t really care anymore but I know you’ll appreciate this). Also, an amazing invention known as hair straighteners will mean you won’t look like Melanie Griffiths anymore #winning (sorry, a little futuristic humour for you there).

Now, you’re gonna need to sit down for this one (maybe on that really cool bean bag that you end up losing in college). By twenty six you still won’t be married. Or have kids. Or a very stable job. But hear me out.

Soon enough, you’re going to meet the person that will change your life. You won’t know it at first but he will make you happier than playing snake (which I know is totally your thing right now). He’s handsome, funny and intelligent and you’ll even start a little pet family together (really, you could open a petting farm). I won’t tell you anything else because the journey you’re about to take is the best thing that will ever happen to you so just act surprised when you meet him, okay?

You will think about marriage and babies for a long time, but then you’ll realise that you’re happy just being in the moment and going with the flow. The moment is pretty great.

You have some tough times ahead. You know Mam and Dad? Yeah, they split up. And you know the way you faint sometimes? That’s not low blood sugar like you self diagnosed (thank you, dial-up Google), it’s epilepsy (but you kinda kick its ass so don’t worry). You’ll be in a car accident. But look, you’re still here. You’re alive, you’re relatively healthy, your family are safe and you currently have a cat sitting on your shoulder…how cool is that? (Just to clarify, you have the cat there by choice, you’re not in some dingy alley way somewhere surrounded by stray felines.)

The friends you have now? You keep lots of them, but you also lose a few. One of your male friends will profess his undying love for you and you’ll both laugh about it years later. Try to guess which one.

You’re gonna end up moving around a bit, but strangely, you’ll enjoy it. You’ll end up far away from home (and so will your brother, who you’ll miss terribly) but you’ll be okay. In fact, you’ll thrive. You gain far more confidence in your early twenties and you will learn to be more assertive. It won’t be an easy process but you become a person that you finally feel proud to be and because I know how low your self-esteem is right now, that’s pretty amazing.

Your sister (who you’re probably squabbling with right now, HEY PUT HER HANSON CD DOWN) will become one of your best friends. I know you don’t believe me now, but no one will ever make you feel as loved and protected as she does.

I want to say one last thing: you’re a teenager which means you’re…well, you’re kind of a bitch sometimes. Stop pouting at me, we both know you’re not scary. When you get to my age, you’re going to really regret how shabbily you’re treating Dad. I know you find him annoying and embarrassing now, but you’ll look back and realise that he loved you and nurtured you in the most selfless of ways and you were just a big bag of nasty hormones. Go hug him right now.

So Jane, twenty six year old you is not that much different to fifteen year old you. You still watch Kenan and Kel. You still wear jeans (they don’t really go out of fashion but they become a lot tighter) and you still love spaghetti like Miley Cyrus loves twerking (I just realised that pop culture reference makes zero sense to you, just take my word for it). Things have changed though. You’re living with a real life boy. You have a career. You drive (you just got a speeding ticket tut tut) and you haven’t seriously injured anyone yet. All in all, you’re happy.

Just please, please don’t get in anymore photos where you’re wearing dungarees. They will come back to haunt you in ways you can’t imagine. And stop over-plucking your eyebrows, you look like a meth addict.

P.S. No, they don’t have flying cars yet but they do have something called ‘Facebook’ which is just as creepy as it sounds.

If you could write to your fifteen year old self, what would you say?

Why Romeo didn’t really love Juliet. Yes, I’m ruining that now.

Ah, young love. My last blog post dealt with the insanity that is teenage romance; a heady concoction of hormones and cheap perfume.

The most famous young couple is without a shadow of a doubt Romeo and Juliet (or some derivative, depending on your interests). The story of the ‘star-crossed lovers’ is as well known as the words to ‘American Pie’. Okay, just the chorus but whatever. It is a story that has lasted the test of time and its plot resonates with romance-lovers to this day. But what is so special about their relationship? Don’t get me wrong, I love Shakespeare. I actually adore him to a point that it’s best not discussed in public. Awkward. Anyway, moving on. My point is that I believe people are overly fixated on Romeo and Juliet’s relationship rather than their respective characters. I don’t think they really had anything that special at all. Just a lot of crazy hormones.

I don’t particularly like Romeo. A sin, you say. Romeo, one of Shakespeare’s most famous creations, HAS to be liked, nay, loved, right? Not so.I’ll get to that in a minute. I don’t think Romeo loved Juliet in the sense that, let’s say, Ross loved Rachel. I know what you’re thinking: You CAN’T seriously be comparing Shakespearean characters to sitcom characters?! Well, I am. Whatcha gonna do about it? Okay, let me defend myself.Ross and Rachel were a couple who were developed over ten series and got to know each other’s traits/flaws very well. They then made an informed decision to be together. Spoiler ale-….ah, it’s too late. And anyway, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! My point is, you can imagine their future. Had Romeo and Juliet lived (another spoiler, but come on now, seriously?!) I just don’t know how they would have managed. We’re talking disowned, no money, six kids….ain’t nobody got time for that. I also want to make it clear that I’m not attacking the play itself. It’s wonderful. Put down the broken bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and RELAX!

Here are a few reasons why I’m just not buying the love though:

1. Juliet is THIRTEEN. Romeo is an undisclosed age, but I figure he’s around sixteen. Either way, he’s not exactly Tom Selleck. It might be argued that’s the way it was in those days; people married younger and adolescent declarations of life-long dedication to your partner were the norm. Well, okay then, but does that suddenly make that okay? Does it suddenly make Romeo and Juliet’s obsession with each other healthy. In the words of Abraham Lincoln, HELL NO!

2. Romeo was also ‘in love’ with Rosaline. At the beginning of the play, Romeo is all melancholy cause some b**ch won’t return his calls…or carrier pigeons or whatever. He is so heartbroken that his parents are worried about him, he’s spending most of his time alone and withdrawn in the darkness. That seems pretty serious. My point is is that Romeo genuinely believes he’s in love with Rosaline. His depression in the beginning of the play, while slightly irritating, is also quite genuine. So even though he later recants this ‘love’, at the beginning it’s pretty believable but then is proven to have been just the hormones of a randy teenager. Hmm. So we know one thing about Romeo, he falls in love pretty easy.  And hard. Give him a few months with Juliet and perhaps the honeymoon period would have faded too.

3. THEY DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER! You might think some celebrities get married ridiculously soon after meeting each other. Well, you can thank R+J for starting this trend. They meet, and get married THE NEXT DAY. Seriously, I’ve had sandwiches I’ve known for longer. Call me a cynic, but how well could you really know a person after ONE DAY?! I mean, what if Juliet is a vegetarian and Romeo eats live rabbits? What if Romeo listens to Snoop Dogg, and Juliet to P Diddy (or their 16th century equivalents)? I know that they already have feuding parents (total ‘mare for the Christmas dinner) but surely there are other differences that might be deal-breakers? Oh no, you might gush, when it comes to true love there are no deal-breakers. Really? A friend of mine once got dumped after SIX MONTHS of a relationship because she admitted to liking Twilight. Think about the people you’ve dated and the reasons you’re not dating them any more. Reasons like ‘they used to put three spoons of sugar in their coffee, THREE!!’ or ‘They used to wrap their leg around me when we slept and I couldn’t move’ or ‘they refused to shave their back rug’ etc etc. I’m sure there’s plenty in the relationship of R+J that would have proven divisive. Least of all the family feud. Possibly Romeo’s bitch-fits. I mean, man up for crying out loud. Which brings me onto my next point…

4. Romeo is whiney.

Romeo likes to complain. A lot. And the problem with Romeo is, if you’re his friend or ‘kinsman’ if you want to get all Shakespearean and stuff, you’re gonna get in trouble. Look at Mercutio. Okay, so you can’t blame it all on Romeo (he did spectacularly avenge his death ‘EITHER THOU, OR I, OR BOTH MUST GO WITH HIM’ *chills*) but he isn’t exactly the greatest of friends. The words ‘buzz-killer’ come to mind. He’s just so overly pensive. Or if you you like, he’s a pretty typical teenager. But compared to Benvolio and Mercutio, he’s pretty whingey. I get the feeling that Romeo enjoys the melodrama of misery and that really doesn’t bode well for a relationship. Imagine ‘It’s not what thou said but the way thou said’t.’

5. He killed her cousin. Like a bad episode of Jerry Springer (wait, is there such thing as a good episode?), there really is no fixing this familial issue. But Romeo just flat out didn’t think. Didn’t think because he put his rage at Mercutio’s death before his love for Juliet. A precursor of ‘bros before hoes’ if you will. I mean, sure, Tybalt was a jerk and his comeuppance was pretty deserved but it just demonstrated Romeo’s lack of foresight. What did he think was going to happen? Lady Capulet to be all like ‘Gee, thanks, I’d tried a contract killer but you just can’t get good service any more. That really is a thorn out of my side. Cheers Romeo.’ And you know when you screw up and your mother compares you to your annoying perfect sibling/cousin/friend, well…I’m gonna do that now. Benvolio wouldn’t have reacted like that. There, I said it. He killed his wife’s cousin. Okay, we’ve all been there with the in-laws. But we don’t murder them do we? (Please don’t take this as an opportunity to confess.) And Juliet might have forgiven him for it but that’s because she’s 13 and probably thought Tybalt was gone to live on a farm up the country. In ten years she probably would have exploded: ‘WAIT A MINUTE, YOU MURDERED MY MOTHER’S NEPHEW. WTF?!’

So, in summary, a great play but their relationship just doesn’t do it for me. The thing is, I don’t think Shakespeare necessarily meant the relationship to be considered a paragon of romantic perfection either. I think he did a great job showing the complexities of young love and how teenage hormones can actually make you act bat-sh*t insane. Remember when you listened to ‘All by Myself’ 100 times after your first breakup cause you thought you were going to die alone with 70 cats? Well, look at you know. Only 15 cats. You showed them.

About us and why being young and in love is not so great

I’m Jane. He’s Jack. Are they our real names? Well, I’ll put it to you this way: does a beaver cheat when he’s playing poker? Erm, the answer is no. Beaver’s are widely renowned for their outstanding poker etiquette.

We’re not with the CIA. We’re not even all that interesting. We just both have jobs that require us to retain some semblance of dignity. So while I am not sharing my identity with you, I will share everything else with you (except my cheeseburger, get your own).

We met when I was sixteen years old. I actually kind of stole him from a close friend which probably puts me on a par with Stalin but it was more complicated than that. I’m not going to expand on that because it would require a deep and meaningful self-examination of my conscience, and it’s past 8.

He lived about 150 miles away which made the first two years very difficult. At that age, you should be out with your friends making terrible decisions that you will later regret. Instead, I was inside glued to my phone wondering why he hadn’t text back yet, who he was with, and how fresh-faced and talented that young actress Lindsay Lohan seemed. If you’re 16 years old and reading this, and you also happen to be in a relationship, there’s two possibilities: One: You’re me in the past. If this is the case, will you for the love of God get off your ass and do some exercise? At 26, your knees creak when you move. That’s not good. Also, when your friend ‘Paul’ challenges you to a drunken race down a mountain, decline. You end up shattering your ankle and it never heals properly.

The other possibility (which is probably more plausible) is that you’re not me in the past but you in the present. If that is the case, then here is my advice to you: relax. You’re only 16. I spent the remainder of my teenage years in a ball of stress because I convinced myself that the relationship was going to end and I would be in some Adele-like situation, oozing bitterness and anger over a failed relationship, except without the talent. I look back now and all I can think is ‘man, you were SIXTEEN. You should have been trading Pokemon cards with your friends.’ Can I do that now?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that I met Jack. I obviously love him if we’ve been together for ten years. But we both agree that we got far too serious far too young. After ten years, our conversations usually revolve around whether the rubbish is being collected on Wednesday or Thursday or whether we should switch back to whole-fat milk  because *someone* is getting  little tubby around the middle. There’s nothing wrong with that really. Actually, I prefer the stability of this to the absolute horror that was the first year of our relationship (more on that later).

In conclusion, being young and in a relationship is fun if you don’t take it so seriously. But what’s the one thing you take more seriously than anything else when you’re a teenager? Not school or social responsibility, oh no, but LOVE. And if you’ve ever heard of Patsy Cline, you’ll know that love can make you pretty crazy. Prett-ay, prett-ay, prett-ay crazy. (Little Larry David reference for you there.) So just keep calm and be prepared to rant to the next generation about how crap their music is and how inappropriate their clothing is. Focus on you. And I should probably add….school. They made me say it, I swear.