Ruing the Day
Do you have any regrets? You’re probably saying ‘no, because there’s a lesson in everything,’ right?
Oh sure, there’s lessons we learn along the way, but you’re kidding yourself if you honestly think you don’t regret some of the dumb choices you’ve made in life. I have a whole village of regrets and a river runs through it! Here’s a little sample of things which will thankfully stay in the Bangs Vault of Shameful Things Past:
My Tie Dye/Doc Martin Phase
Whew Lord. I mean, I was young, but not too young to be bitch slapped. This ‘phase’ of mine lasted about 2 years. I had tie dye dungarees for God’s sake! Dungarees! Oh, for shame! In my mind, I was Angela Chase from My So Called Life (quick side bar: I’m still pissed that show got canceled after only one season), but the kids at school saw it differently. I went to school in Chav central, so my hippie chic was kind of lost on them. And unlike Angela Chase, I didn’t have a sexy ass Jordan Catalano following me around. None of the guys were turned on by the tie dye laces in my Doc Martins, I guess.
My Eye Liner Worn as Lip Liner Phase
This came right after the tie dye phase. I decided to go all the way to the other end of the spectrum. I cut all my hair off, wore jeans for the first time and decided that dark brown eye liner lining my lips would be a good look. Ahh, the sweet smell of rebellion. This time, my mother did try to tell me on multiple occasions that I looked like a wanker, but I was convinced that looking as scary as possible was the way forward. Ironically, there are many women with bad perms still rocking this look in Alabama.
When I was 17, no one was gonna stand in the way of me getting a tattoo. After lengthy discussions with my parents, I decided to get…oh yes…the Japanese kanji for ‘love’ tattooed on my belly. Does it get any more cliche than that? (Well, actually it does, I could have gone with the ‘rose on the shoulder’ or the ‘heart with an arrow through it on the upper arm’) The only saving grace here is that no one ever sees it (I tend to not roam the streets in just my bra, however tempted I may be to do so). If my life takes an unexpected turn and doesn’t go the way I think it will (ie, a lonely, barren existence that ends when I die) and I actually ever have kids – when I’m pregnant, this tattoo will just be a bunch of random lines on my belly. Or, Japanese people will think I’m an extremely loving person.
My Dating a Crackhead Phase
I’m referring to the actual, literal crackhead I dated when I was 19, but really pretty much any man I’ve dated falls into the crackhead category. But, for the sake of this ‘ruing the day’ exercise, let’s stay with the actual crackhead. Surely yes, we can say there were some lessons learned, but if I had my time again, would I date him? Hell to the motherbitchin’ NO!
There are countless more examples I can give from my 20s (mainly involving men I should have never even have given my phone number to, let alone dated), but I don’t want to bore you with all that.
So, what are some of your regrets?