regrets. I have a few.

In the event life ever hands me a 'do over,' the following is a small sampling of things I've regretted doing and would rectify if given the opportunity:

• Stealing a completed homework assignment from my second grade classmate and passing it off as my own to my parents (In the column marked "I'm not a total jerk" it should be noted the assignment had already been graded - A+ - and I really just took it because I liked the way my classmate drew his relief map).
• The life of crime this one act unleashed in me later in life when I'd clean out sections of Walgreens' Wet & Wild makeup aisle as a teenage shoplifter. The irony? Wel & Wild makeup made me break out.
• My sophomore year of high school when I answered to the poorly chosen nickname Garbanzo Bean.
• Ruining a perfectly good leather jacket with the salty tears of love lost that poured down my cheeks every time I heard Whitney Houston's version of I Will Always Love You after my college boyfriend broke up with me. Over the telephone.
• Having a cassette of Whitney Houston's version of I Will Always Love You - and only Whitney Houston's version of I Will Always Love You - that I played virtually nonstop while driving (and crying) mindlessly after said college boyfriend broke up with me. Over the telephone.
• Suggesting to my not-yet-a-Tool Man we enjoy some Chinese food on the night we planned to consummate our burgeoning relationship, a move that would come back (up) to haunt me a few hours later when he untangled himself from me to dash to the bathroom, where he remained the bulk of the evening, moaning "It's not you, it's the mu shu" between each brief reprieve.
• Stringing along above mentioned former college boyfriend who came calling (over the telephone) to see if we might be able to repair our relationship and get back together a week after a healthier, permanently mu shu avoiding, not-yet-a-Tool Man had proposed to me. I did this so that I could break up with him. Over the telephone.
• Holding onto grudges longer than I should. I still can't eat mu shu.
• Going to a beauty school to have my hair colored and not speaking up when the color seemed far, far lighter than the shade I desired, thus setting the stage for the time known as "The Albino Era".
• My inability to run like anything other than a girl.
• The bags (BAGS!) of discounted Halloween candy I bought at Target this week. Get into ma belly, 60 cent bags of peanut M&Ms.
• All the times I've dropped whatever it was I was doing or stayed up late to watch Titanic on TNT. Psst....let me save you some time. Jack always dies in the end, Rose ends up a wacky old lady, and even though you promise yourself you're not going to duet with Celine Dion when she busts out with My Heart Will Go On, you will. You always will.
• My growing addiction to FiberOne toaster pastries. Dear Lord, deliciousness encased in a fantastic crust of regularity. What could be better?
• The fact that my kids only know Heart's Barracuda and Cheap Trick's Surrender as tracks on Guitar Hero.
• The appalling lack of linkage paid to Backpacking Dad here over the past couple of months.

Hardcore, eh? I know. No one expects a girl who answered to the name Garbanzo Bean to be such a romantic. Oh, you meant petty thief! Yeah, well, we all have regrets. Now I'm just old and have a desire to be regular. Seriously. Those chocolate toaster pastries are the tits. Or words that rhyme with tits.

Anything you want to get off your chest? You know what to do. Do not make me ruin yet another article of clothing with my burning tears of love!