Dear Aunt Cassandra,
This year I was elected school president, which has always been my dream. But now I’m not so sure it was a good idea. I thought that once I was in I would be even more popular than before, I would get to do what I want and I would never have to buy another drink. Of course I made all sorts of promises to get in, but isn’t that what everyone does? Now it’s even worse than I thought, the other guys really did use up all the money in the kitty, they weren’t just bullsh*tt*ng me. And everyone, including my homeys who are only there because I picked them, is nagging me about “what are we going to do now?” and “where are we going on the school trip?” Everyone has different ideas and they expect me to make a decision. That wasn’t part of the deal! I wish I could tell them all to p*ss off, but I don’t want to look uncool.
I am losing sleep, I keep waking up in a panic. I have nightmares that my friends aren’t talking to me anymore. What can I do?
When Mick Jagger sang that “it’s lonely at the top” he wasn’t complaining about trouble finding a girlfriend, was he?
You seem like a pretty pragmatic chap to me, even though you have shown pretty poor judgement in people. What you do really depends what you want out of life, and that is something only you can know.
You are not going to get the pool table for the canteen, or take everyone to Mykonos like you promised, that’s for sure.
If you’re worried about losing your “homeys”, don’t. You don’t need to prove yourself and you don’t need that passive-aggressive loser as your wing-man either. When it comes down to it, we both know the cool girls would rather own up to still liking Justin Bieber (#nightmare) than pick that guy over you. Especially when they realise that they’d have to give up their razors and deodorant.
As to who gets to choose where you go on your school trip, do you really want to visit cousin Kim’s firing range outside Pyonyang? Or spend a week swatting the mosquitos off uncle Vladimir’s torso on his annual Siberian camping trip?
I know your plan B was to organise a South American road trip on the cheap, sleeping on friends’ sofas. But you know Nicolás can’t even get beer and snacks these days, and Raúl’s place is crawling with the worst kind of yanquis. As for that Jeremy from the big school across town, even if he does get the keys to the country estate, he doesn’t really look like the partying type, does he?
Your Belgian pen pal may have had a point, even though you were just pretending to listen. This could be your opportunity to do something positive.
I’m not naive enough to think that kids go into school politics because they believe in the noble idea of public service (ha!). But your options are limited. From where I stand, you’re still popular enough that you could take the class to pick up garbage from the highway and still call it a school trip. Ever read Tom Sawyer?
I don’t really know you that well, but you seem to enjoy strategising. Instead of playing pool in the basement of the old guys’ bar during school hours, maybe you should try a real man’s game like chess. And if you show up for class a bit more you may pick up some basic maths – we’ve seen that you’re good at division, but there’s more to it than that.
As I said before, only you know what you want. You may think that what I’m suggesting is “selling out”. I will leave you with one final thought: If you’re thinking that at the end of the day you can still cash in your chips and trade your life comrade for a busty air hostess, you should bear in mind that we don’t own the airline anymore, and Ryanair girls have higher standards…