Yet another thing Julia has written in her blog is a ten-minute conversation with her 17-year-old self. Now for her it's just over ten years ago, but if I were to address my 17-year-old self it would be bizarre. Or would it? What can you say to a desperate 17-year-old to make her listen? I would say: All your sorrows will go over and all the wounds will heal. To be fair, I'd add: There will be new sorrows and new wounds. I'd say: all your dreams will come true, but not in the way you think. I'd say: of all your bosom friends today, only one will stay with you through thick and thin. I'd say: You have just made a big mistake in your choice of education, but it will turn out well anyway. I'd say: Leave home as soon as possible and never look back. Although if she had followed the advice, I probably wouldn't be where I am now. I'd say: when they offer you that job in a student orchestra, take it! You will regret for the rest of your life that you didn't.
What I wouldn't say to my 17-year-old self, or to any 17-year-old, is: Your prince will never come, but there will still be moments of happiness.
And what would this 17-year-old, full of dreams and illusions, hopes and follies, say to me? Go jump the puddle, old hag, you know nothing about life.