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Dear Mean Girl,

Enjoy your moment in the spotlight. I mean it.  Embrace it.  Revel in the power you have over other people now, because supplicants won’t always do your bidding.  I’ve seen your lizard-skinned mother, your puffy father, your spoiled sister.  This research yields certainty: That eighth grade is as good as your life is ever going to get.  So drink up.  It’s all, literally, downhill from here.

Very sincerely,

Mean Mom

P.S. Enjoy your shotgun marriage to the guy who failed the bar four times and had to go work for your dad.