Regrets, I've had a few....

but then again,

let's leave the serious ones for another time, shall we?

Quasi-regret #1: I will never know what it was like to have "lived through the sixties."

Admit it, Baby Boomers. You relish your membership in this happenstance-of-birth club, and never tire of saying "you just had to be there." I cannot be the only member of my generation who feels somewhat inadequate about this.

Quasi-regret #2: Short legs are unlikely to ever be considered "desirable."

For that matter, clothing manufacturers seem unlikely to ever wise up to the fact that short-legged people exist.

Quasi-regret #3: Ever reading this article.

I was just contentedly reading my morning NPR last month, and this almost irrevocably spoiled my day. 22?!?! Are you kidding me?!?!

Quasi-regret #4: Being female, I am denied the distinctly masculine experience of growing a beard. At the risk of sounding Freudian, most people who know me sympathize with how cheated this often makes me feel.

Quasi-regret #5: I am not, nor am I likely ever to be, romantically involved with this man.

Okay, I'm going to go ahead and bump that last one up to full-fledged "regret." *sighhhhh*