my favorite easy chair - it was torn, but I should have had it slipcovered instead
a collection of beer mugs from my college days that a GF thought were tacky
a lottery ticket I gave to my brother - no it didn’t win, but the tension killed me all week 
My virginity. Still regret that one to this day. NOT!
My first guitar.
Ditto.
I got my first electric for $40 at the local Mom and Pop music store “scratch and dent” sale. I covered it with stickers and other decorations, mostly to hide its shameful off-brand label. Once I finally bought a “real” guitar, I happily gave it away to one of my little sister’s friends who was learning how to play. Years later, realizing I’d given away the best friend I had in high school, I tried to get it back. Turns out she had given it away, in turn, to someone at her college. From there, the trail grew cold. Not her fault; I’d freely given it to her with no intimation I’d ever want it back.
I literally get misty-eyed thinking about that guitar.
While I didn’t *quite * give it away (I got $60 bucks for it, which was stealing), I still regret letting my first car slip through my hands. It was a 1965 Pontiac Tempest, and was just falling apart to the point where I couldn’t afford to fix it as a broke college student. But man, I totally could have parked it in my Dad’s barn for essentially the same amount of money.
When I was in college a gave my younger brother my older (and therefore uncool) record albums, like Meet the Beatles, the first Doors album and the first Stones album. The creep still refuses to give them back to me, too!
I had a beautiful bicycle that had cost me several hundred dollars, new. Since I rode it only a few times, I gave it to my ex when he moved out. Not realizing its true worth, he then sold it to someone for 20 bucks.
I used to draw people I knew and give them the sketch.
I thought I was good, although when I see one of the sketches today I cringe and want to take it back.
Okay really sappy, but I regret giving up so much time with my children growing up. Divorce and all, I could have spent more time with them. Physical item? I regret giving (and I gave them, not loaned them to a friend) A set of mechanics tools so he could finish tech college and get back on track, inside of a week he had converted them to cash and sold them for booze, at maybe 10% of what they were worth. Wasted effort at a rescue. I was never going to use them again, so it didn’t seem like a big deal, my children where offered it but turned it down, but I wish I had saved them for one of my grandchldren, if I ever get one.
In depression and desire to rid myself of useless possessions, I gave up my massive collection of Legos to a friend of mine who has two (now three kids); I was pretty sure I was going to regret it, but in fact I could pretty much care less, despite having been a total Lego fanatic, and the kids absolutely love them; I’m told they play with them every day, rain or shine. When I visit them (roughly once a year) I “play Legos” with them, and while it pains me slightly that they’ve broken or lost a few pieces, and don’t obsessively keep them in order and arrangement they way I did (yeah, I’m that kind of freak, bite me), I revel in their enjoyment of them and how much they seem to learn from them. They’re the best damn thing I’ve ever given away. No regrets.
The only thing I can remember regretting having given up is books. Somewhere I either lost or gave away my Stainless Steel Rat novels, and it pisses me off to no end, especially since they’ve been out of print for a while. Fuck.
Stranger
My fucking Babe Ruth rookie card.
My Rocky Horror “Columbia” costume jacket. A gazillion gold sequins gave their lives so that I might walk in sparklitude, and it fit perfectly. In a fit of very misplaced generosity, I gave it to the 12-year-old daughter of a friend. She had admired it aloud many times, and for some ridiculous reason I thought she’d enjoy it more than I was enjoying it at the time. I had a falling out with the girl’s parents over something else and didn’t see them again for years. When I did, I actually asked her mother about the jacket, to find out that the kid had sold it (for $400!!) even before we’d had our falling-out. The girl, now an adult, is in prison (for crimes not related to Rocky Horror, I’m glad to say) and for some reason that’s the part that infuriates me the most.
Well you should regret it. You shouldn’t give it away, you should have sold it to the highest bidder.
my favorite baby doll.
she was small and floppy and her head and limbs were vinyl and fairly realistic looking (I always hated dolls with purple sparkly eyes and tons of hair. no baby looks like that!) and she had a little sensor thing that sensed when you made a loud noise close to her (or, I think, hit her. but I never let anyone hit her) and it made her cry… then she’d say “mama” and then she’d be quiet.
At some point, my sister opened up the back of her and ripped the little battery pack/sensor thingy out. So she had a little velcro-able pouch in her back where I could hide things.
I loved that doll.
but, at some point, I totally reorganized my room and ended up with a whole pile of dolls and stufed toys that I had no idea what to do with. I pawned a good number off on my sisters and then took a bunch of them and gave them to kids I babysat.
That particular doll went to a little girl named Maddie. I had taken the doll over there before (I always like to have a toy that comes and leaves with me, so if the kid has trouble getting excited about the idea I’m coming to play, at least they can be happy I’ll bring a toy) and Maddie loved her, so I figured it was best a kid could enjoy a toy I was too old for.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do with that doll if I still had her. She might be in a box in a closet. But every once in a while I try to do a search and see if I can’t find another baby doll just like that one… just to have it.
I try not to have regrets, but some days I regret giving away (to the trash bin) a huge box of old diaries from when I was 10 years old up to when I was about 30.
I had moved several times (to different states) and about the 3rd time I moved I realized I was literally lugging around “my old self”. At the time I was in a “who am I” crisis, trying to find myself and all that blather (never did find myself…hmmm). I viewed chucking the box of old diaries as getting rid of who I didn’t want to be and starting with a clean slate.
Now I’ve got a collection of diaries that’s about 10 years and growing. And I don’t cringe too much when I go back and read them every now and then.
But every time I can’t remember “what I did back in '82” I wish I could go back to an old diary and look it up.
My first dagger. Given to a girl whom I was head-over-heels for, who, in the end, was just using me for emotional support until she ‘felt better’. Grrr.
My sword, and my baby blanket.
The baby blanket was actually lost to storage - as well as my baby book. I still curse my parents for that.
The sword was given to me by a now hated ex-boyfriend. I gave it to my dad. Now I regret it, because I could say “Don’t mess with me, I have a sword.” But no. My dad can.
Oh well. He probably enjoys it more than I do. I try not to have regrets anyway.
~Tasha
A cross that my mormor gave me for my communion when I was, I think, 13. I gave it to a “best friend forever and ever!!!111!” who of course I haven’t heard from since I was 15. :rolleyes:
What’s a mormor?
Some “Magic: the Gathering” cards, including some beta cards. My sister never really got into it, and I could have sold those for some nice money, about 8 years ago.