Remember that one time? Yeah, you know what I’m talkin’ about. That one time where you did the stuff that led to the thing with that one person – yep, the person with the hair and the teeth and the other distinguishing features? Dude, that was gnarly sick.
Introducing a new weekly segment called “I Regretfully Regret,” where yours truly divulges in one thing she regrets that week. Sounds exciting, eh? “Wait!” she says, flashing an OxiCleaned Billy Mays smile. “There’s more!” Move aside, Mr. Cockeyed ShamWow Guy.
This is going to be an experiment. Here on the wonderful world wide web, millions upon millions of people from all over the world are able to link in to their Internet-capable devices and explore and share in a mind-blowing plethora of information. The Internet is not an Information Highway; it’s an Information Orgy. If you’re reading this, you are a part of it. Giver, Receiver – it doesn’t matter what your role is. You are a part of it. And you should be proud. The mighty sophisticated Greeks and Romans of ancient times loved themselves a good orgy, so why shouldn’t you?
But I’m being misleading.
Let’s take all that sexually metaphorical language out and start anew.
Join me. Be the Clarice Starling to my Hannibal Lecter. I tell you something and you tell me something. Quid pro quo. [All right, admittedly not a much better parallel, but if you’ve read this far you’re probably a special brand of brilliantly weird yourself. High five.]
But through this whole mess all I want is to create a spot where whoever stumbles across an “I Regretfully Regret” post can share with me – and everyone else who reads – something they regret. It can be as personal or as vague as you want – doesn’t matter.
Just share. Because sharing is caring and caring is… something nice with rainbows and chocolate or whatever.
You can post about it in the comments or you can send them to me. I swear I’m an honest-to-goodness honest and good person and am not trying to create some sort of blackmailing scam. No, don’t send me your full name and social security number – I ain’t promising you a million dollars from some Nigerian prince. Send me your Regretful Regret and I’ll post it here. Sound fun? Trust me, I’ll make it worth your time and effort.
As I said up top, this is an experiment and with any hope, it’ll evolve for the better.
Without further ado, here is my first Regretful Regret:
“I regretfully regret not being more social. Being a social moron sucks. Being an emotional moron sucks worse, but that’s a topic for another time. Friends – or people I have ignored and must now call ‘previous acquaintances’ – I’m sorry for being a moron and not adding a smiley at the end of my snarky texts. Sarcasm does not translate well in digital 2-D. I realize that now. I really didn’t mean it when I said ‘your mother’s a $2 whore.’ I’m sure your mother is a wonderful, wholesome woman with a respectable form of daytime income. Sorry.”
Don’t leave me hangin’ here. Add your own in the comments (or you can e-mail them to me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I can share them so that you don’t directly have to). “I regretfully regret…”