everyone has something they regret.

"Never have regrets because at one point everything you did was exactly what you wanted."

I have been seeing this seemingly innocent blurb pop in and out of my field of view for quite some time. I finally digested it in my mind just to find it annoys the hell out of me. It is catchy and sounds correct enough, but when I think about the VERY FEW things in my life that I regret... it is most easily summed up by:

"When loving someone, never regret what you do, only regret what you don't do."

I somehow happened upon this gorgeous, fun girl when I was in college. She didn't actually go to school WITH me.... although throughout our friendship we would sneak her into my (very strict) dorm and/or I would stay off-campus in her apartment. We took road trips to crazy places and lived off virtually no sleep. We were both very generous with our time and resources and would spend all of our money getting out of town together, meeting people from everywhere and always being tourists. I remember making up hometowns on numerous occasions, since people had a tendency to think we were from California.

We remained friends until I got lost in a selfish cloud of potsmoke and my first love/ boyfriend (who would eventually need legal action taken against him to get him out of my life)... but I always thought she would be there. Until I never called or wrote. A year or so later I finally tried to reach her, and her e-mail address and phone number had both changed. I finally realized all I had was a bunch of amazing memories and no one to share them with. As quickly as we had become friends, I let her slip through life's cracks.... looking her up on Facebook and MySpace repeatedly with no luck. I got pregnant with Elek and I wanted her to know my hopes, fears, and irrational attachment to animals. I remembered becoming an ADULT with her (okay... that may be a slight exaggeration).... realizing that crashing on random people's couches wasn't always the best idea... knowing that all you needed was ten dollars, the mall, and some really great clearance racks to be the hottest girls in town for one night. I shed my "follower" skin and started figuring out who I really was thanks to this girl. Then, throughout my pregnancy, I started to wonder if she was even ALIVE... I heard all of these horrifying stories on the news and I would pray that one of my guardian angels would go spend the evening with her and make sure she felt warm and loved. I was terrified of all the possibilities and scared that she would never know that I cared about her happiness. I was so sorry for all those times I thought I should call but didn't have enough time to "really catch up".

Yesterday morning, our paths crossed again.... she has a little girl now.... and Elek is almost exactly one year older than her brand new daughter. I realized that not only had she missed MY pregnancy, but I had missed hers, too. Let me tell you, the emotional sobriety that came over me was hard to stomach. I just knew that she had always been there for me and that I just took that for granted in almost every way. I know our friendship may not ever be the same... but I still want so much for her to be surrounded with love and laughter. When I finally thought that I would never get the chance to say anything to her... somehow destiny allowed her to hear it from me: "I'm so sorry."

Please recognize people for who they are and how much they mean to you. We may not be lucky enough to have another chance.

How do you feel about regrets? Do you have someone you think about often who has "slipped through life's cracks"?

"Even the best fall down sometimes/
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme/
Out of the doubt that fills my mind/
I somehow find/
You and I collide."

"Collide" - Howie Day

seven. years. later.

So, practically out of nowhere, I get a call from an old college friend, muh muh muh my Sharona. I haven't spoken to her in at LEAST five years, but we have left a series of alternating voicemails for the past nine months or so. Around 5:11 pm yesterday, she calls at a slightly opportune time, and Houston, we have contact!

Sharona is the only person I know who doesn't wear a seat belt because getting thrown out of a Ford Expedition was one of the best things that ever happened to her. She introduced me to Kurt Vonnegut and marathon tanning. I am forever in her debt for holding on to the stair rail for dear life when a (much heavier) me was falling down the stairs barreling straight for her. I could have easily broken my back if it weren't for her Mighty Mouse-esque 100 lb. barricade on step number five. Her reasoning is hilarious, and in our day we convinced each other to do increasingly alarming things to our bodies/hair in search of obsessive-compulsive perfection. We are both Gemini, which means we can make the most ridiculous ideas not only sound feasible, but like it's the most ingenious thing we've ever thought of and must be implemented five minutes ago.

Which leads me to just one of her many incredible habits... namely shaving her entire body, every day.

Sharona was smooth, tan, and moist (as in LOTIONED, you pervs). I'll never forget the first day she shaved her arms, saying in complete awe of herself, "Nana, it's AMAZING! My arms have full contact with the world! None of that senseless HAIR stuff keeping from experiencing life fully! Feel it!" and I would look at her smooth arms and stroke one finger down the top of the area from her elbow to her wrist. It was amazingly soft and smelled like Suave Sun-dried Raspberry Lotion. Wow... I wished MY arms felt and smelled like that.... but I couldn't commit to the maintenance of shaving my whole body, every day. Sharona saw that covetous look in my eye, but she new better than to say anything of it. The next day, the same conversation ensued. I think I held out for about nine days of this sensational torture before I joined the Shave-Your-Entire-Body-Every-Day Club. There were only two members... Sharona and me. It was awesome... I was completely smooth and smelled of Suave Sun-dried Raspberry Lotion. After thirty minutes of making sure every square inch of my body had zero hair and then drying off and then lotioning.... I realized that this was not going to fit into my routine very easily.

It all went really well until our club went on hiatus for the summer. I got lax and started doing the whole routine once every other day... since I wasn't really TOUCHING anyone. So then I go on a youth trip to Dallas, Texas, as a chaperon, and I had to wake up at 3 in the morning. I get stuck in a 15-passenger van next to the mouthy seventh grade asshole who is like, "oh my god.... what is WRONG with your arms?!?" every time we hit a bump he would be like, "Diana forgot to shave her arms and now I have to pay for it!! This isn't FAIR." On this day, I vowed to myself that the arm shaving must come to an end.

After months and months of growing my coarse arm hair out... I realized it wasn't going to get any softer. I used some Nair, which took off all the hair.... and then it grew back... STILL prickly.... so I waited for it to grow out AGAIN.... all this time, inadvertently rubbing arms with people who would look at me with a question mark of disgust in their expression.... It took me a whole year to get my soft arm hair back.... this involved more Nair.... waxing.... and a ton of waiting. Last night on the phone, I was finally able to describe this process to Sharona. She was laughing so hard she could hardly stop... then I asked, "So you didn't go through this?!?" Her giggle subsided momentarily... "Oh... no.... no..... I still shave my arms." Seven. years. later. I was in awe of such dedication and commitment. To which I replied: "Well.. you won't be stopping any time soon."