I went to see Harry Potter yesterday.

Yesterday, I went to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Pt 1. It was beyond any doubt, amazing. It was definitely the best movie in the franchise. I couldn't even complain about the parts that deviated from the book. There weren't many. And there weren't many that mattered. The story was still well thought out and well explained.

Oh! And the effects! The special effects were wonderful. I still gasped and screamed at certain parts although I knew what would happen. I still felt the suspense of the movie, despite knowing exactly how it would end. This was a movie where I could let my inner nerd out. lol.

Afterward, we went to Bojangle's (ewww) and discussed the movie and the books at length. It wasn't as fun as comparing theories, (which would have happened if we were waiting on the latest book) but it was fun all the same. I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

Afterwards, I met some friends at Waffle House. I hung out with my old friends frm high school. It was lovely knowing that we'll be able to do this next year as we'll all be at the same school. Vontavia and Jeremy are dating now, which is... different. I wasn't even aware that they knew each other. But if they're happy, I'm happy. We chilled and ate and laughed and talked.

It was an incredibly excellent day.

Live life with no regrets

lI think I might just naturally be an argumentative person. What other reason could I have for just disliking that phrase? In fact, I love the song "Damn Regret" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. So maybe it's just that. I like to argue.

But I honestly think we misunderstand what it means to live life with no regrets. I mean really? Regret nothing? At all? Then how do I learn my lesson? Do I not regret skipping my Politics class so often that I made a whopping 53 on the final? Hell yeah I regret that shit. I was wrong and I fucked something up. Don't get me wrong, I don't dwell on it, and I was incredibly lucky that most of the class failed the shit out of that final as well. The professor curved our grades so I passed the class with a B. That's good, but I could've done better. I expect more than that from myself.

So why should we live life with no regrets? We can't learn from our mistakes if we don't ever feel bad for them.

I think it's better if we don't take it literally. Instead of literally not regretting a single bad thing we've ever done in our lives, we should probably just not dwell on it so much that we obsess over it. Or better yet, be careful not to do things that you KNOW you will regret. Example, you may not regret going to a party and drinking with your friends, but you will regret robbing a bank and shooting the security guard. (provided you aren't a sociopath, but then you don't really care about the subject of guilt or regret anyway do you? Clearly this entry isn't for you.)

I understand that dwelling on negative things is bad for you. One day you fail a Politics final, the next day you're convinced you're an idiot and wondering why you exist at all. (that statement was only a tiiiiiiiny bit in jest. I do jump to extremes like that. -sadface-) I just think that expecting yourself to never ever regret anything you've ever done is a bad idea. I regret tons of things that I'm too lazy to list, but the big ole pile of regret that I have helps me to not make stupid ass decisions in the future. The next time someone starts declaring themselves to be my bff on Facebook even though we've NEVER hung out, I'm deleting the shit out of that motherfucker. The next time I think skipping a class that I very well may fail (-cough- Politics -cough cough-) so that I can hang out with someone I'm sorta kinda but not really in a relationship with I'm going to call at least three people to remind me of why I was an idiot last time.

I'm just saying, instead of saying "Live life with no regrets" you should either say "Learn from your mistakes so you don't look like a dumbass again." Or you should say "See that right there? That's a mistake, you're gonna regret it. Don't do it." Regrets are inevitable and I feel like punching the shit out of anyone who tells me they've never regretted a single thing they've ever done. Either that, or running away b/c Criminal Minds has me convinced that every sociopath ever is a serial killer who's gonna disembowel me and then eat my innards. Either that, or it's Lord Voldemort... But that's another story altogether.

I'm watching Criminal Minds again.

Dear Dr. Spencer Reid,

I love you. I really do. You're smart and incredibly cute. You have amazing hair and a great smile and did I mention how fucking smart you are? Gosh, you're a genius and it's so hot. Every time you spout off a statistic or correct some random fact it makes me love you more.

If you were a real character I'd marry the fuck out of you.

I love it whenever you use your immense intelligence to stop a killer, rather than just shoot them or use brute force. Your brain is your greatest weapon and I love you for it.

You're like a crime-fighting super genius sex god. Marry me and we can have like a gazillion babies. (or, a googol. I'm sure you appreciate the nerd humor. However, I doubt I can have that many babies.)

If you don't want kids, I am more than willing to learn at your (presumably hot) feet.

Sincerely,

Shayla.

Spencer looks all carefree and intellectual. I promise I'm not crazy.

I promise I grew up to be normal. Sort of.

This is my first entry and I'm excited. I feel the almost unbearable pressure to be hilariously funny. Unfortunately, I'm watching an episode of Criminal Minds so my attention is split. I can't make up some funny story to write, so I'll write about something real that happened to me as a child and hope that anyone who reads it will wet their pants laughing.

Okay, a commercial just came on for flood insurance, and I definitely thought I heard the woman say her company covered sluts. Who needs slut insurance?

Anyway, childhood story. Hopefully, hilarity will ensue.

So when I was younger, it was my family's tradition to go out to eat on my birthday. I can't remember exactly how old I was, maybe four or five, but that year I decided I wanted to go to Ryan's Steakhouse. (They had a make your own taco bar. Who doesn't love tacos?)

I was a rather... precocious child. I think I just didn't know I wasn't an adult. My mother and my grandmother both talked to me like they would an adult, and since I'm an only child, I had almost zero interaction with other children.

So there I sat, with a frilly pink princess dress on. (I also thought I was a princess. Keep track. I thought I was an adult AND a princess.) I wore my white tights and white Mary Janes with a little silver tiara. I waited for the waitress to come and ask us what type of drink I wanted and to possibly tell me happy birthday. I think I wanted to impress her with how grown up I was.

When the waitress came and took our drink orders I decided that the best method of impressing her with my maturity and intelligence was to talk to her the way my mom talked to me. So, when it was my turn to place my order, I turned to her with a serious face and said, "You know I'm an abused child?"

The waitress spied on us throughout the entire meal.