Confessions of a Chick in Paris

Confessions of a Chick in Paris

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Regrets, I’ve Had A Few…

July 4, 2011 , , , , , , , , , ,

Regrets, they exist.

Maybe not in the late Frank Sinatra’s world, where regrets are too few to mention, but for the rest of us, they are apparent.

Why so glum, chum? You ask.

Well I wasn’t exactly feeling glum, but when I slipped and fell in a bathtub and bruised a couple ribs then watched a homeless man get hit by a garbage truck on an episode of Louis C. K. (and all within a twenty-four-hour period), my mortality sort of bitch-slapped me in the face.

It didn’t bitch-slap me in the positive “taking stock of my life and what would I like to do now?” kind of way, mostly because I’m not a wild-haired Jack Nicholson in a senior-citizen bromance called “The Bucket List.”

The truth is I believe in negative reinforcement; I believe that only when you punish yourself emotionally for past mistakes, can you live a better life for whatever days remain. It’s a stretch, I know, but without it I would be like those insufferable people who applaud all their choices as the ingredients for the recipe that “bakes” their current self. Because we all just wish we could enjoy a savoury bite of you, you’re so tasty and special! 

This kind of patting on the back is irresponsible and immature; it’s like fat-legged toddlers who wobble through the meadow unattended, then cry when they trip and scrape themselves on a rock. What did you think was going to happen, toddler? If those fat-legged toddlers criticized their wobbling in a safe training environment, never leaving until they graduated to long and confident fat-legged strides, many a scrapes would be avoided.

You know?

Of course you know.

So without further adieu, my top three regrets:

I never bought him in that auction: It was the year 2000, and Y2K was proven to be nothing more than an IT nerd’s wet dream. With a limitless future and a steady income from my job at Blockbuster Video, I should’ve purchased my shirtless, tanned and bow-tie wearing fellow classmate (and crush), during the high school charity auction to fight blindness or A.I.D.S. or speech impediments or something. Instead, as his abs glistened in the sunlight and I drooled, his pretty girlfriend bought him  (with her dad’s checkbook, no doubt) before I even had the chance to bid. That one forced-upon date between him and I could’ve changed the whole course of our future. Instead he married that girlfriend, and now they have two kids and live a stepford life in the suburbs. That should’ve been meeee…

I never ate different kinds of food: I had a very bad experience with vegetarian sushi in 1997, and from then on I shunned all unfamiliar food.  To this day, the mere sight of pink and bloody steak makes me gag, I run for the hills whenever I see a cocktail of slimy shrimp, I don’t even know what part of oysters is considered “food”, and I don’t care how rich it makes me look, caviar in my eyes, are little black bullets of death. In other words, I will never have the balls to be a guest judge on Top Chef (’cause obviously they would ask me). When I get sad about this fact, I usually eat a lot of cookies…

I never got into a cat-fight: As a teenager, there were so many opportunities to brawl “girly style”. Over boys, over clothing, over trendy fashion accessories (i.e. heart-shaped pendants on choker faux-velvet chains, which were the height of mid-nineties glam), over registered and accurate boob-sizes…the cat-fight potential was endless. I witnessed my share of cat-fights in the girls’ locker room, and what struck me more than the fistfuls of ripped-out hair was the lasting impact a pointy-nailed claw could have. The blood-red four-pronged scratch on a forearm grew into a frightening scar, and those  who wore it were survivors. It was brave and bad-ass.  I certainly wasn’t brave enough, in my paranoid and self-conscious youth, but I comforted myself with expectations of grown-up cat-fights. But…the thing about grown-up life is…unless you’re a guest on Maury Povich screaming out “Nah, you skank, he is MY man!“, cat-fights become obsolete.  And so I roam the streets with my scar-free dainty forearms, and everyone thinks I’m a weak-ass little bitch. As Rodney Dangerfield says: “I don’t get no respect!

And so I reach the end of Regret-Highway, and even though I can’t ever fix those ancient wrongs, my failures make me all the more committed, to make the rest of my days before the inevitable garbage-truck-collision turn out right…

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comments

If I could go back and change some things, I’d go back, way back, and change a butt load of stuff. I’m thinking preschool, and work my way forward from there. Had I only applied myself more at Duck-Duck-Goose. 😐

Peter Parkour

July 4, 2011

Duck-duck-goose was the key determinant to future success in life 😉

Romi

September 6, 2011

Oh Romi… if not for these regrets then you might have gotten everything you wished for in life. If you had that life of fulfillment and joy would we be able to sit and read these musings? Would Romi be the Romi we know and adore today? NO I say!! I will be the first to admit that I am appreciative and thankful for these regrets that have plagued your life. I love you big time Romi.

Justin

July 6, 2011

Love you too Justin! I’m so glad that me being screwed up has helped the world in some way 😉

Romi

September 6, 2011

Boo YA! Buck up soldier! You too are BADASS! That Louis C K is something else is he not?? I mean wtf is his deal? Gotta hand it to him for riding the edge of angry comedy. Genius at that. If I have to choose an image to replay in my head, it’s gonna be you in your tub, for reasons which are only too obvious, if not a little off putting. You know I mean that in the nicest way possible.

Right?

David

July 6, 2011

No worries on the tub envisionings, and yes this comment is two months late, and yes Louis C K is a genius at angry comedy! 🙂

Romi

September 6, 2011

I dislike the idea of spending my time regretting all the dumb and/or terrible shit I’ve done in my life, since there’s not a whole fucking lot I can do about it now. But if I’m honest with myself there are a ton of things I do regret and would change if I could. My list is pretty much the polar opposite of yours though, auctioning dates is weird to me and I hate Stepford lives, I live for new and unusual food, and I’ve certainly been in some fights.

Nope, I’ll ponder a sec and give you my list. Hmmm, ponder ponder. OK, I would have not been an alcoholic. That really screwed up my life badly, and I’m still dealing with the fallout of it all. Partying was pretty fun sometimes, actually most of the time, but it also made me a jerk to lots of people and got me thrown in jail a bunch of times. Secondly I would have had sex with a lot more people than I did. My fucked up religious childhood really screwed me in the head and made my transition into adult sexuality an awkward and unfulfilling one for most of my teen years and my early twenties. Being a late bloomer is lonely and it sucks, never do that. So I would have been a social drinker, but a slutty one. And third, I wish I had actually looked into my objection with church in an intelligent manner instead of just rebelling mindlessly for so many years. If i had discovered atheism as a teenager I could have avoided a lot of needless bullshit later, like when I was racist for a while, or when I struggled for years with depression and thoughts of suicide. Most of my problems pretty much fixed themselves when I recognized what I really believed about the world and then applied it rationally to how I lived my life. So if I could go back to my childhood years, I would have lived life as a light social drinker, a slut, and an open and educated atheist. Booyah, problems solved. I should probably have thrown going to college in there somewhere, but fuck it, that would have worked itself out in due time.

Josh

July 28, 2011

That is the best do-over combination I’ve ever heard! Love your comments, as always 🙂

Romi

September 6, 2011

I can’t top Josh’s list, but I would definitely try the reverse, positive version of Coldplay’s “The Scientist” video: no car crash, only b-ball greatness (unlike my brother, I did was not a fantastic basket ball player, though I enjoyed a solitary round of free throws in my day), fantastic music highlights and less of sluttyness on my part, that’s for sure!

theduffboy

October 19, 2011

How did I not read this before? You amuse me, friend 🙂

Romi

December 4, 2011

It is never too late to kick some ass. I too had the same regrets… missed highschool hallway opportunities to smack a bitch. Now, as a full grown woman I make it up with Jiu Jitsu practice several times a week! I get to choke people… and bend their joints at odd angles until they beg for mercy. There is always time for a second chance!

Jessica Khurana

December 1, 2011

LOL! Good job on the choking skills! 😉

Romi

December 4, 2011

You have a dark gift, my talented friend!

The Hook

January 29, 2012

muahahaha 😉

Romi

February 29, 2012

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