11 58 pm pdt

Dearest Rachel,
This is the hardest thing I have ever tried to write. I actually believe I shouldn't write it. You receiving a letter from me from the future will change the core of your belief system. You would have always craved proof of absolutely anything remotely supernatural or metaphysical, but now it is in your hands. I have no idea how this will change your outlook on life. Perhaps you will stop arguing so ardently against the possibility of time travel. Getting this letter will probably be more impactful than its contents.

You know this is me. I could tell you about your earliest memory of trying to crawl out of your crib and running out to mom on the couch crying. Do you remember throwing up on that couch? Good news: I can count the amount of times I've thrown up on one hand. I can tell you about your memory of dad coming to kindergarten. Mom and dad always bugged you for sitting on the ground with your legs turned out. You are amazingly stubborn and bossy. Some day those traits will settle and will be seen as positive (persistent with good leadership skills).

You're going to get this in elementary school. This is to avoid one incident. One day you will be at Matthew and Andrew's house. You will be upstairs about to play a new game Andrew got for Christmas. You will not be able to figure out how to put the spinner together. Someone will suggest asking the parents to do it, and you will agree, but just as Matthew takes it away you will ask to try it once more, and you will snap the plastic. Jean will come and yell at you in a way that will make you physically ill. Don't break that plastic. Let the parents put it together. Their family will obviously think it is a huge deal that you broke a little plastic part of a board game (which was easily repaired with a piece of masking tape) and you will wind up shaking because you are so upset. This happens to be my earliest memory of feeling really guilty and I think if I had avoided it I might not be plagued by such profound guilt now. So don't break that plastic thing.

More important than that, I am writing this at age 23. You and your parents and siblings are all alive and in good health. You can give up more than a dozen years of morbid thought. No one your age is going to die. Stop fixating on death.

Once you will be late to a horse show and miss the flat session. All ways be sure when the horse show is, so you can be there on time. Your parents are much worse at this then they appear to be. Also, in your first horse show, you are posting on the wrong side. If you had posted on the right side, you would have gotten first instead of fifth. I know this because the judge pulls you aside afterwards and tells you so. So, don't change your post to the other side. Don't ride around on your bike with that caterpillar and don't put that ladybug in the bug box. Don't leave the tomato eaters in that shoebox. You will audition once, and only once, for a commercial. Try to open your eyes wide and smile like you are really excited when you point at the camera. This is your once shot at stardom. Keep a journal and never reread it and tear out the pages. Don't draw that picture on the back of your test; it will cause you so much grief. And please put this letter away until you are in middle school.

So, are you in middle school? You have an insatiable curiosity, so you probably kept reading, but please do wait. Ok, middle schooler, when you are moving from Wade street, your landlord will throw out your retainer and you will get blamed for it. Just keep the thing in your mouth for that whole week. And brush your teeth more often because we'd like them to still be perfect when we are eighty.

When you go with Kate to Steve's office to be her moral support when she requests not to dissect animals, he will throw the fact that she is wearing leather shoes in her face. The perfect response, which you will learn later, is that some people feel it is ok to use animals for food or clothing, but can still find dissection to be a useless reason to kill animals. Don't ask the guy in your ceramics class if he will pose for a sculpture with no shirt on. When you ask in Physiology why people get bloody noses and not bloody cheeks, Cindy will say, "People don't get bloody cheeks," in a way to make fun of you and everyone will laugh. Instead of being embarrassed, answer, "They do if they are punched hard enough." Ignore Jeff like the plague. In Larry's class, when Katie says, "Score one for Caroline," answer, "No, she just came full circle back to my first statement about the need for a better way of providing the public with news." Keep a little notebook with funny things Larry says in class.

When you are getting frozen yogurt in Malibu with Desirée once day, you will see a man and feel the electric shock of chemistry. You will imagine writing your number on your napkin and wordlessly handing it to him. Do it! You have nothing to lose and his face will haunt you for some time. Ignore that guy from Beverly. Go home after the museum. Chester is a gentleman. Don't let the Brit from the bus spend the night at your house. When you and mom and Blu are attacked by rottweilers, agree with dad and suggest you guys sue. The medical bills were expensive and you had nightmares for quite some time.

About the posing for pictures thing, mom is going to find out. If you don't mind that, I say do it anyway. And around that time, Duncan will get into a little car accident. Have him drive more slowly when exiting parking lots and pay attention to the parking restriction signs.

Try to make the modeling thing work out with the guy who wants you to pose for a Guess ad. It might be fun. Also, Cherrise said she could get you a modeling job. You will later wish you had posed just once. Despite what you think, you were so lovely at 17.

On the day you get your driver's license, you will get your first parking ticket. Don't walk out while fighting with Erik. Try to sort through your feelings a bit and communicate them to him. Tell him plainly how it makes you feel when he yells at you. You will never meet any of his friends (he clearly being embarrassed by how young you look). Do your homework in Ann's class. I know those Joan Didion essays are annoying, but write your little comment papers anyway. And write whatever stupid piece of essay you can whip up for your American Film class. Otherwise you'll have to drop it.

David is the big one. I don't want to spoil any of the surprise in that relationship. Be honest about your feelings. Tell him when he hurts you. It's actually not normal to be unhappy that often. You have the power to get what you want and need if you can just figure out how to communicate it. He won't call you on Valentine's Day or on your birthday, so don't wait by the phone. Don't date Mike. Don't send him that silly picture of you. When he makes that crack about condoms, tell him you are offended and let that be that.

In Hawai'i with Alexandra, don't drive into that parking lot. Have her drive instead. Tell Taj that you find the idea of sleeping with him to be disgusting instead of feeling guilty for turning down someone who propositioned you after knowing you for five minutes. Saying no is a good thing, and I'm proud you did then, but you really shouldn't have felt bad about doing so.

Start working on your family tree. Ask Amah and Aunt Florence and Uncle Norman a ton of questions. Then tuck it away for a few years.

Now on to college. Do not hang out with anyone on the first floor. Don't buy so many presents for Sam, especially when you visit him over the summer; it's pathetic and he's probably seeing other women. Don't buy lounge music just to impress Josh; you'll never listen to it. When your roommate shouts that you are a slut in the hallways and you go to class crying, call you dad and ask him about suing her for defamation. There's some law about insulting a woman's virtue that you'll learn about on tv six years later and wonder why you didn't use it at the time. You're not a fan of silly litigation, but she will spend that entire year harassing you and then she will enroll you in $3000.00 summer school class which you won't learn about until you receive a letter informing you that you are failing it.

Pay attention to when your first music midterm is, so that you have time to study. Try to take that Plant Morphology class. Try to figure out how to export your Cindy movie with better sound quality. Don't take Digital Storytelling.

Ignore Ivan. He's a male slut and he's pompous. Ignore William. In fact, ignore William and Karlyn. Your time with them will turn out to be very unhealthy. William with unload all his negativity on you and save the positive stuff for everyone else. You will find a wonderful man fairly soon. Don't meet Karlyn's friend in LA. Then you won't get in a car accident. Pamela won't be your roommate; she'll duck out a week before classes start. If you don't meet with Cindy, you might get Matthew to move in with you in the spring, but I don't know if that will happen or how that will turn out. It's just an idea. You have enough money to make the rent by yourself. Give Jenny a birthday present. Buy the "Sexy Robot" posters you want from the local music store.

After you graduate, I have only a few suggestions. Keep dancing, or do yoga or go to the gym. One year later you will look in the mirror and discover that you have lost all of your muscle tone. You will put on just a little weight, but your breasts will get big enough to require you to upgrade all your bras from C to D. I've just bought my first half-dozen D bras. This is going to be expensive. Go to the gym and save all that money. Avoid the first flittering girly feelings of weight consciousness. When you move out of your apartment, pay attention to where that bag of leotards goes.

When you first start dating Matthew, you are wearing a silver watch with great sentimental value. Pay attention to where you put it. When you leave New York, you are wearing two gold rings with even greater sentimental value. Keep them in your purse or you will not see them again. Don't order that thing from the Sharper Image. When you make the kitchen smoky, don't lean on the radiator while trying to open the window. Take the Games magazine with the card game from France back to LA with you. Don't have that third margarita while out with John and Yvette.

Pay attention to when that PFA film screening is. This is the first theatrical screening of one of your films and you will be very upset that you missed it. If your Cindy movie had better sound then it would have been screened too at that documentary screening.

Don't go see Chicken Run. Your boss will ask you a trick question during your first presentation to her, which you won't get. Though she makes no indication, she means the node, not the process. Answer "No, not with this node." Don't suggest that Doyle come over in front of Gary. He will think you are talking to him. Kimball will always make you uncomfortable but TimC will be a treasure.

Send more e-mail to Ginkgo. Send your 2000 Christmas thank you card to Grampa P right away. Don't let you fervent letter-writing dwindle.

Figure out how to get off AOL and onto the web in 1994. Start an online diary then. Tell David to forget about the CD and don't go over there to try to pick it up. Get his roommate's e-mail address; you might want him to score one of your short films. In Europe, on the train, sleep with your wallet under your pillow. Don't have that art deco basin shipped to the US. Don't give Margarita a CD of your work. She will steal it and not pay you a penny. Don't agree to work for her. Just leave LA and head for your love.

There are things I want to tell you. For example, in elementary school, one day mom is going to tell you Reed died. He was in a car where everyone was drunk and they hit a tree and the engine exploded. You will be so shocked and uncomfortable that you will smile. I didn't want to tell you about it beforehand, because that was too much to think about when you were that little. I would have liked to have warned you, but I just couldn't. Most of these things are about your first relationship, but the discovery is the best part of it, and someday he will tell you that nothing was your fault -- that you couldn't have done anything different -- and you will believe him and feel better. Don't post part of his e-mail in your online diary; that isn't nice, even if those simple words heal all those years of pain.

Make more art. Go for more walks.

I'm sure there are a thousand more tips I could tell you to avoid things getting lost or broken and so that you can say the perfect comeback. But I'm tired. Tomorrow I am going apartment hunting so that I can officially live with the man I love. This relationship is better than you will ever fantasize. You will finally stop having acne [for the most part] after eleven years. You will be happier if you learn not to be haunted by the past so much. Will you please start working on that earlier so that I can be further along now and can write a much less specific message to send to my younger self...?