Advice for an 18 year-old

I haven't posted in nearly a year, I know. But I was pretty proud of all the advice I could round up for giving an 18 year-old. I'm not sure about college or future plans, so it's a little generic, but I still like it. Any other advisors for what everyone should know at 18?
Never put an earthly man above yourself. Be nice to those who hurt or ignore you. Pursue your goals confidently but with caution. Be wise with your money so you can splurge once in a while. Be a lady: don't smoke, don't get drunk, and don't swear. Your manners and politeness will reflect well onto everyone who meets you. Begin your studies and work as soon as you are assigned it; you will avoid a lot of last-minute scrambles. Hold on tightly to those you love, even if they drive you crazy. Try new foods. Seriously, don't waste time worrying about your looks, especially since you are beautiful. Beware of lust, though - it's the most prominently accepted sin in the natural world, with the worst consequences. Don't be afraid or anxious about difficult things; take a break, figure out a way to accomplish them, and do it. Work hard and don't be ashamed of minimum-wage jobs. Real friends don't need to cling to drama for relationships. If you think you're hungry or if you're feeling sick, try drinking a glass of water before eating or medicating. If you still feel sick, take a nap. Don't loan anything that you expect to get back. Get in the habit of exercising now. Don't just "try" things - either do them or don't do them, and always make good on your promises. Read your books. And know that above all things, life will just keep getting better if you are obedient to the Lord.

Well, now that I'm back in the saddle...

...how about a little commentary about a Seattle greaseball?
Twice I've seen this guy as I walk through this breezeway in between buildings of the shady Seattle Design Center. They've got these three poster windows up, but no posters in them, so they just frame the brick wall behind them and reflect like lousy mirrors. Well this guy stands there combing his greasy mullet in the makeshift mirrors, and occasionally taking sips of his Sparks alcoholic energy drink. At 6:45 in the morning. Yikes!

Summer Rain and Hot Asphalt

I love the smell of summer rain on hot asphalt.
How beautiful a mixture
of old and new
of cold and warmth
of nature and man
of light and dark
of purity and filth.
There is nothing similar in God's entire Earth.

Phrases I Like

"Hit the ground running" and "Not one thin dime." I really like those phrases. I wish I had more opportunity to use them, but I've got to get back to work since my purse has not one thin dime in it, and I really need to hit the ground running since I have half an hour left of work and one-hour's worth to do.

Six-word Memoirs

I just read about a book called Not Quite What I Was Planning - a collection of six-word memoirs (written autobiographically). Here are some of my favorites before I attempt my own:

Seventy years, few tears, hairy ears.
Catholic school backfired. Sin is in!
Born in the desert, still thirsty.
And now it's my turn:
Loves: God, husband, baby, myself, Tacoma.
Once I'm dead it could be accurately changed to "Loved" and "children." I toyed with
Thank God for everything I’ve had. 25 and far left to go. I really really really like life.
but none of those captured anything specific. After Tacoma would be friends & family, I guess, but I'll have to save that for 8-word memoirs. What would yours be?

Writing Prompt #2: Best Prank Ever

The fifteen or so seventh-grade girls only haphazardly watched Interview with a Vampire. It was 1996 and they were way more interested in Brad Renfro or Jared Leto than Tom Cruise. Besides, it was kind-of boring. Alaina’s birthday sleepover was proving to be much more fun by pulling pranks on people or making sickeningly sweet sundaes. These more interesting pastimes resulted in the chaotic manner for watching the video, and only the few girls who were really into the storyline stayed undistracted. Thus when the movie finally ended (finally), the more adventurous girls rejoiced in an opportunity to spice up the slumber party by playing light-as-a-feather-stiff-as-a-board. And of course since the game never works, they quickly abandoned it for Ouija. Now until this point, the pranks had been mostly age-appropriate juvenilities: bras worn as hats, stealing the ice cream scoop, et cetera. But Alaina led two other mischievous rascals to help develop a much better plan – one that would combine all the activities of the birthday party until that point. One scoundrel proceeded to dominate the Ouija board’s planchette to form a rigged message, another rogue mixed strawberry syrup and red food coloring in a glass of water, and a third troublemaker replaced an identical glass of water with the blood-like mixture on the sly. By the time the pointer had indicated to LOOK IN AVIVA’S CUP no one was anywhere near it and every girl was playing Ouija, as though none had never left the room. Of course Aviva was one of the girls who had been really into the movie and she had already relayed the story of how she had gotten her blood drawn earlier that day, so her extremely genuine screams set off the other ‘fraidy cats who truly believed that was indeed Aviva’s blood in her water glass. When the birthday girl and her two cronies fell to the floor laughing, the jig was up and they had to confess to their deviousness. But never before the slumber party of ’96 had the timing and the mark been so perfectly matched, and never will they again.

Writing Prompt #1: Worst Meal Ever (in second person again!)

It’s Thanksgiving in your thirteenth year and you can’t enjoy your meal. You just got your braces on this Tuesday and your jaw sorely aches with every bite. Your pathetic attempts to chew the meat remind you of when that mountain of a kid Zion gave you a gum eraser in the third grade and told you it was real gum. Even the tiniest nibbles are like gnawing on a Michelin. But to top that off you have a cold. A bad one. The kind where you try to close your mouth so you don’t look like the billy goats Gruff’s troll, but you just end up gasping for breath every time. Your sense of smell left you ages ago and you are left with but five tastes: bland, flavorless, insipid, plain, and ordinary. The squishy cranberries taste like balls of bath oil, the mushy green beans might as well be overcooked slivers of drywall, and the soggy potatoes insist that they are papier-mâché props. You reach for the slimmer-than-usual celeries only to discover with your earnest (and painful) crunch that they are actually green onions and somehow your taste buds have suddenly kicked into action with a burning hatred. This is so far not to mention the fact that your pain medication leaves you desperately thirsty and no amount of refreshing water or sparkling cider is keeping you quenched. Your aunt brings out her homemade apple pie a la mode and you almost cry in anticipation of the dullness in both flavor and aching that awaits you. But you are surprised – sure the pie is apparently made from Saltine crackers and lemon juice, but the vanilla ice cream is perfectly cool as you delight in the sweetness that one kind taste bud has allotted you. With no chewing involved, that ice cream eases your sore mouth, soothes your dry throat, and raises your spirits as though you had been feasting all along. Ahhh…thank God for ice cream.